On closer inspection, the dragon kin gathered within the city could be obviously split into two groups.

There were those who wore well made and colorful sets of armor, some with furs and tassels lining their outfits, as well as the occasional gemstone here and there.

Then there were those who wore the most basic gear, made from simple leather. Their weapons were nothing more than iron swords or hatchets, and these people appeared to be thinner in general than the ones wearing the more extravagant gear.

While the gear of the first group was certainly more expensive, it did not strike as excessively so. It appeared to be as if a middle class family had passed down a nice set of armor for their sons to use when going into battle.

As far as the distribution between these two groups who were scattered throughout the crowd, it was roughly 50 50.

This was because the city of Merphol had a two class system.

There was no upper class, so to speak. Aside from the Hosts of Sin themselves, there were no 'nobles' within the city of Merphol. Rather, roughly half of the population was made up of middle class workers- though there was a discrepancy in the relative wealth from person to person even within this class, giving a sense of nobility.

The other half of the population were slaves.

Each middle class family usually owned around as many slaves as the number of people within a household.

What were the duties of slaves in this city?

Their roles were twofold.

Female slaves would tend to the homes and assist the household mother in the preparation of meals, housework, shopping, and other basic chores.

Male slaves tended to go out to work in the fields, which lay on the ground sector of the city. On a daily basis male slaves left their homes to work below.

As far as the families who owned such slaves were concerned, the men would work in workshops, stores, or other higher establishments in the upper sector of the city.

A typical family within the city of Merphol consisted of both a middle class family as well as a number of slaves.

As such, many people had gathered here regardless of class. Answering the call of their ruler, Gormand, known as the 3rd Monster King, all people had come together with one heart.

"I understand well that I'm not exactly the smartest guy in the world. As a matter of fact.... I'm pretty dumb. I don't really know anything about strategy or war or anything like that..... but I will tell you all one thing."

With firm resolve, the blue dragonic man stared forth, pointing his cleaver at the crowd.

"I know how to fight."

Carrying a half asleep pink dragonic woman in his free hand whose hair fell as he moved around, he spoke out to the hearts of the people.

"I'm ranked as number 5 among the Hosts of Sin in terms of power. Compared to Huberos or Apathia or even Envidia.... I'm nothing special. As a matter of fact.... the only reason why I even took the position of the 3rd monster king....."

"Was because I was too lazy to take on that responsibility.", the girl in the hands of the man murmured.

"Yep. That's right. Apathia should have by all means taken that spot, when considering her power. After all.... she may be ranked at number 2 among the Hosts, but she is really more like number 1. Her power could defeat even Envidia's in an instant."

"But I didn't really care about when the ranking was being decided. I just didn't wanna have to do anything else."

"Mhm. So here I am, standing as your..... King. Why then is Apathia with me?"

At this the girl frowned ever so lightly, her fierce eyes peeking through her lime green strands of hair.

"Because.... I'm kinda pissed."

At this statement the people of the crowd gasped and began to whisper among themselves.

"To think that they went as far as to piss off Lady Apathia...."

"I can't believe it...."

"Those antiheroes are in grave trouble now...."

"I said before that I'm not too smart. That's true. But you know who is smart? Huberos. He's a freaking genius. So he's going to be acting as our strategic commander. We're going to join forces with the devils and whatever troops he has mustered up, and he will act as our mastermind while me and Apathia act as the rook and the queen."

At this statement, many of the people continued their whispering.

"To think they would provoke a military alliance among this many Hosts of Sin....."

"This has never happened before...."

Gormand grinned as he looked onto the people, shouting with fervor.

"Do you all know what I really want!? I want to come home to a nice meal, a comfy chair, and I want to feast!! Don't you all want the same thing!?"

The people began to shout at this, voicing their agreement.

"Of course, King Gormand!"

"But I cannot feast when there is something tugging at me like this. I've lost my appetite, and nothing will taste good until I go out and take care of the people who stole it from me."

Holding out his hand, Gormand looked to the people.

"So will you help me?"

At this the people shouted back in agreement.

"Of course!!"

"We will fight for you, King Gormand!!!"

"We will help you take back your appetite!!!"

"We will help Lady Apathia to once more sleep peacefully!!"

Soon enough, the people of Merphol set out to meet up with Huberos at the decided location.

Clenching his fist, Gormand reminded himself of his task.

"Envidia.....Vex..... Avarco..... Even if we have to consume this entire world to do so.... we will avenge you all."

----

500 dragonic demons flew as a single unit, headed to the South in order to meet up with the forces of Huberos.

At their head, Gormand flew while still carrying Apathia in his arms as her hair fluttered about in the wind.

Grumble.

"Oi. Your stomach is too loud. And the wind is moving too fast. It's hard to relax."

Apathia opened one eye, peeking at Gormand who merely nodded.

"Bear with it."

"Geh....."

Turning back to the forces behind him, Gormand waved to a certain man.

This man was wearing the same outfit as most of the other slaves, however he came forth with a large platter of food, opening it up to release a burst of steam.

The fragrant aura of freshly cooked meat filled the noses of all around, and Gormand licked his lips as he grabbed the platter.

"Mmm...."

"Didn't you just say that you lost your appetite?", Apathia said without emotion.

"Well losing my appetite doesn't mean I'm not hungry. It's just...."

Shoving the food into his mouth, Gormand chewed and then swallowed in one large gulp.

"It's not satisfying."

"Was the food not to your liking, King Gormand?", the man asked.

"Nah. It was good, chef. It's just....."

Thinning his eyes, Gormand's expression became saddened.

"It's impossible for anything to taste good these days."

"Were you.... especially close to those three who died?", the chef asked.

"No and yes.", Gormand responded. "I can't say we were exactly close..... but the seven Hosts of Sin.... we share a bond."

"A bond?"

"Ah, that's right.... I guess you don't know about my past, chef. Do you know why I enjoy eating all types of different foods so much?"

"You've never told me. Is it not simply that you are a food lover?"

Gormand merely chuckled at this.

"There's a reason for everything. Let me tell you a little story."

----

Many years prior, in the city of Merphol.

A young dragonic male was born to a family of slaves.

Being born to a family of slaves, he was destined to work for his entire life.

He was sent to the fields as soon as he was old enough to work.

He would spend most of his days separated from his family, only ever seeing them after he came home from a long day of work. He did not work with his father, as his father had been worked to death and as a result had become very sick.

Forced to work 16 hours of the day, tilling the fields was all he ever knew.

Whether it be harvesting vegetables or fruits or planting seed, he was worked and worked to the bone.

Depending on the work which slaves performed, the families which owned them were rewarded in kind for their profits. As such, the ownership of numerous male slaves was beneficial to any family, allowing them an increase in overall household income.

Even so, the middle class family which owned Gormand's family was not a caring one.

Some families who owned slaves worked under the mindset that their slaves were precious assets, and as such they were to be taken care of so they could produce more income over the long term.

Other families saw only the immediate benefit, greedily putting their slaves through as many hours of work as possible in order to increase their immediate profits at the expense of the health and well being of the people they owned.

"Work him as long as you want, and give him the work that will ensure us the most profit. I don't care what you do to him, just make sure he gives us the highest profit possible."

These were the words of the head of the household towards the labor manager as the two shook hands one day, grinning as their eyes glistened with the idea of financial gain.

"Then..... how about you transfer him to work here permanently? He will begin to live here, and we will send you your share of the profits. If he remains here, I will be able to completely ensure that his hours are maximized."

"Oh? You can do that? That would be wonderful.... and it would be one less mouth to feed....."

"Indeed. So? What do you say?"

"Of course."

Gormand merely watched submissively as he was traded from one owner to the next.

Having spent his entire life working up to this point, he knew well his own place in society.

He was a slave.

Destined to be worked to death, his existence would be that of suffering.

"Come now, boy. With me."

The man who had purchased him took Gormand away, and from that point on he was truly and fully separated from his family.

'What is.... the point?'

Wondering this, Gormand walked off.

Soon he was introduced to the other slaves who worked under the man he had been sold to, and was instructed of the work he was supposed to perform.

"You are not to work in the fields.... but rather in a meat processing factory."

And so, Gormand was transferred to a far different lifestyle.

His hours remained high. Excessively so.

Both the man who was working him to death and the family which had sold him off made great profits from his work, while Gormand made nothing.

He was fed a single meal at the end of the day with the other slaves, and complaints were not ever allowed.

On one particular night when the man brought the food for the slaves, a single small bowl of soup for each, an incident occurred.

"One each. Half for children."

The man stood before the slaves, carefully managing as the food was distributed to the people.

Each person stepped forward, receiving their allotted portion. A single bowl would be given for two children to share, and one by one each received their rations.

It was late night, almost midnight at this time. The slaves would wake up at 6 am to begin their work, leaving them only 6 hours to sleep.

Gormand stood at the back of the line beside another boy who had been sold off in similar manner.

"I'm..... hungry....."

With low energy, Gormand held his stomach as it churned.

He had been trained to work in the meat processing plant, but the work was excruciating.

The machinery was dangerous and it was not uncommon for fingers or even limbs to be lopped off.

Very often these limbs would fall into the meat mixture, only to become a part of the batch.

It was then that a man who had lost his hand walked forth with hateful expression.

"Give me..... two bowls."

"No. I just said that you are to each have a single bowl."

The slavemaster immediately denied the man, reaching for the whip by his side.

"I suppose you need to learn some manners."

"I'm.... starving!! Give me two bowls!!! Just don't give those kids over there anything!!!!"

The slave shouted out in anger, pleading for his own portion to be increased.

"Absolutely not. As a matter of fact.... you need to be taught a lesson."

Stepping forth the slavemaster began to furiously whip the man, beating him into submission.

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

The sounds of the whip echoed in the ears of the slaves as it came into harsh contact with the skin of the man, who was forced to the ground while he raised his hands to defend himself.

"To think you would disobey me like this, and even bother to ask for more than what you deserve.... you are nothing. You are nothing. You are a tool. You are a machine. You are nothing more than a cog in this factory which could be replaced at any moment. A machine does not beg for more oil than necessary, and neither will you. That goes for all of you. Take a good look at this man!!"

As he continued whipping the man who had been beaten to the ground, the slavemaster addressed all those around him.

"You are all nothing more than replaceable parts to this machine. If you begin to squeak, I will not give you any oil. Rather, I will throw you out. Do you all understand how many slaves there are out there to replace you? I pay out families based on the profits you reap. Do you understand what that means? It means it costs me nothing to replace my labor. You all could die for all I care, and I would not lose a thing. Therefore....."

Placing his foot on the head of the man, the slavemaster looked down on him with disgust.

"It would be best that you remain worth keeping around."

With a grin, the man chuckled to himself.

"This man has lost a hand, and as such his productivity has been relatively low recently. I suppose I should simply throw him out now that he has shown me that he is more of a liability than an asset."

Grabbing the man by his collar, the slavemaster began to drag the man out.

"Agh!!! NO!!! STOP!!! LET ME GO!!!!"

The man began to flail about as he was dragged away, and he knocked over the table which the soup was being served at.

The soup spilled onto the floor as many of the people in line watched, falling to their knees as they tried to save it.

"Our soup...."

"No...."

Many began licking the dirty ground, trying to savor that which had been spilled, yet it was unsalvageable.

"Stop this!!!!"

The cries of the flailing man were met with another furious set of whips by the slavemaster and a disgusted glare.

"Look at this. Wasteful piece of scum. Now you've just ruined the meal for the night."

Looking to the people who had yet to receive their meals, the slavemaster merely waved them off.

"It looks like you all will have to deal with not having a meal tonight. If you wish to blame anyone, blame this fool."

Holding his head which now ached from the hunger and thirst, Gormand fell to the ground, sitting on the cold brick wall.

"Ugh..... I'm so hungry....."

"I... am too...."

His friend spoke out in agreement, and the two merely sat in pain as the hunger overtook them.

The slavemaster left, dragging the man off. It was then that many of the hungry adults began to walk over to the people who had already received their meals.

"Share.... some with us....."

"Give it over....."

"No!!! This is mine!!!"

"Stop this!!!"

A brawl proceeded.

The slaves began to fight one another. Hair was pulled, people were bitten and scraped at, and soup was spilled.

Gormand and his friend merely hid in a corner, terrified of the people around him who had gone mad with hunger.

They watched as the battle occurred, and eventually things quieted down.

By the time the fight had ended, they only had a few hours remaining to go to sleep.

The next morning, the people were like zombies.

Weak from hunger and injured from the fighting last night, a significant number of injuries occurred that day.

The blaring of the machinery overwhelmed the cries of pain as people's fingers and limbs were sliced off.

It could be said that everyone left the factory that day weaker than they were before.

It was as he was working, his ears overloaded by the sounds of the machines, that Gormand took a good long look at something.

It was a cube of meat which had been produced.

What went into that cube of meat, he did not know. It was nothing more than the mashed up bits of animals and whatever else went into it.

It slid along a conveyor belt, mass produced with hundreds behind it and hundreds in front of it.

"I wonder..... what this tastes like....."

Grabbing a piece of the cube, Huberos stuck the chunky flesh into his mouth.

It was horrible.

It was disgusting.

It was nauseating.

But it was delicious.

"Mmm....."

Gormand began to feast on the meat, grabbing more and more chunks from the cubes as they flowed past him on the conveyor belt.

Never before had he felt so disgusted and satisfied at the same time.

It was very likely that feces and all other sorts of horrid chemicals were present within these cubes of meat, yet even so, with his massive hunger it was the highest quality meal he had ever consumed.

"It's..... so good....."

He ate and he ate, continuing to take pieces from each cube.

With a smile, Gormand fell back, patting his stomach after he had filled it for the first time in his life.

"Was it good?"

It was then that he heard a voice behind him.

During the time in which he had been eating, the worker in front of him had noticed each cube having a piece taken out of it, and had quickly snitched to the slavemaster.

Gormand merely looked up to the man who stood above him, arms crossed and veins bulging.

"If it was so good..... then perhaps I've found a certain.... missing ingredient."

The people around were tired and injured, yet even so they watched with terror as the boy who worked among them broke one of the most obvious rules.

"You are not under any circumstances to consume the products of the factory. For that is not yours to consume. Is that not correct, boy?"

Letting out a burp, Gormand merely looked up to the man in fear.

"Come with me. It seems that you need to be given special treatment."