That brat had a look on his face.

          I know that look.

          Every time he got it, he’d end up getting punched in the face sooner or later. Usually by me, but other people have caught him before as well.

          Quenloc was skilled at scheming, but he had a major flaw.

          He liked to gloat.

          There was a moment right before she handed him a cookie that he looked over at me, tilting his head and smirking like a seagull that had just made off with your last piece of mermaid’s flesh completely ruining your seafood platter, never to be seen again. 

          I’ve avoided the sea ever since.

          What I wanted to happen was for him to bite into it without looking, but sadly he wasn’t that dumb.

          As they watched the fight down in the arena, I watched the guard movements. There were shadows following several key individuals, including that Lace brat of hers.

          If I sent out my own to survey, they’d notice. Boney probably wouldn’t care, but the brats were sensitive and shadow control was never my specialty. Wraths might work, but the angels went around purifying the souls before we got there.

          Tapping on the chair, I thought about my options. Aena was making a commotion, her excitement building. The four parasites hanging around were getting nervous as she got more worked up. The crowd was starting to get infected by her as well as they started getting more chaotic.

          “Knock him flat, Steve! No, no, don’t back up! Take that axe to the face like a man!”

          While she distracted them, I sent a low-level dead rat I keep in a space, a different one from the food of course, to run around. He’d be purified if he got too close to a high-level angel when he’s too far from me, but he could still find some information. Sadly, anything higher would be vaporized by Boney again.

          I’d swear she does it on purpose, but last time she was dead asleep so I don’t think it’s conscious on her part.

          “Come on! It’s not a fight till we see blood!! Get back in there, Steve!”

          I heard a faint whisper from the arena, “…it’s Sephr”

          “Go Steve!”

          “I don’t think they’re even trying.” I commented as I looked at the demoralized Steve and his opponent, some brat from the army that my successor trained.

          “They’re just warming up.” She frowned at me, squishing her face to her nose again, “You’ll see the vengeance and hatred left from the war fuel them as they fight, for now it is only glory, but soooooon it will be for their lives.”

          “Umhm.”

          “Go for the throat!”

          “Aim low!” Why not add to the fuss? “Did they announce rules?” I asked her “quietly”.

          “Not really, just some nonsense about honor on our end and something about getting skinned alive on yours.”

          “Ah yes, the slap on the wrist method.” I nodded. Skin grew back after all. If you lived.

          “Are you an idiot?! Dodging is the most basic maneuver out there, don’t just stand there and let him hit you!” She yelled at the boy who looked over at her with such utter baffled outrage.

          “Quick! While he’s distracted!” The demon was wasting time pitying his opponent. As fun as this was, we didn’t want to be here for days. “Don’t gak boy! Attack!”

          “He might have poison, watch out for sneak attacks with small weapons!”

          “Poison your main blade when the referee isn’t looking!”

          “That’s cheating, you foul demon!” She smacked me before turning back to the fight, “Use light flash to blind him when the referee isn’t looking!”

          “Amateur, anyone would be able to see the light.”

          “Fair enough, insult his mother and call him names!”

          I paused to look over at the angel stands and noticed that around half of them were just silently waving lights and signs with various names on them. They weren’t looking in this direction so it was possible they didn’t know we were here….or rather hear…

          “Pin him down or find a way to restrict his wings! That unit specializes in using their wings!”

          “Use your legs! It’s the last thing they’ll expect!”

          “Isn’t that counterprodu-” Olven quietly muttered to Pelk, but he got shushed.

          The fight had almost stopped, they both looked defeated, so it was hard to tell who was winning.

          “The loser gets to come up and get comforted by our dear White General.”

          Both jerked their heads towards me after I spoke, Boney gleefully bounced in her seat.

          “Oh, that would be lovely! Steve, we haven’t talked in ages! And the young demon child seems like fun to talk to as well! We’ll have a great time no matter who wins or loses!” Her smile reached a bit too far across her face as her eyes curved into almost nonexistent crescents.

          Desperation creeped onto their faces with all the force and subtlety of a typhoon. A certain section of the angel cheering squad looked a bit confused, but quickly started waving and bouncing with excitement as the fight picked up.

          We continued to jeer, I mean cheer, from the sidelines. She just bubbled about getting to “chat” with the loser and I encouraged cheating as any adult should with chil-brats.

          I scowled at the area and watched the demon brat, one of ol’ Mammon’s descendants I think, flinched. The angel practically cried in relief as he went for the opening with all the gusto of a lemming into an active volcano.

          The angel won, setting off a furious wave of flashing lights, and a few vocal cheers from the cooking section, oddly enough it seemed like there weren’t many deaf cooks. Knowing her past, I would have thought chefs would be high up there on the list of people for her family to harass.

          …unless that was why they were left in peace, rather than in pieces.