**'Abyssal Sovereign: The Demon's Dominion'**

Chapter 538: Chapter 537: Perfect weapon

A few seconds later, the arena shook with deafening shouts as Keith felt his body naturally relax.

No one knew whether the crowd was shouting because they had lost their money or cheering because they had won.

But regardless of them, Keith had just been introduced to a new world.

Was this what it felt like to be the stronger one?

The crowd cheered for him.

His opponent was gone.

He couldn’t help but imagine how he himself had once been treated.

Only one thing had changed.

He had gained strength.

And after that, he had seen the heaven-and-hell difference in how people treated him.

He couldn’t help but wonder...

If he had been stronger...

Would his father and mother still be alive?

Safe...

Well...

Keith couldn’t help but feel his heart tremble as the walls of the arena shook and the exit appeared.

He left the arena, dropping the severed head with a heavy heart.

Keith didn’t even realize when he returned to his room.

It had been three days.

Three days, and he had killed two people.

Was he a murderer?

An evil being...

Just like the people from his town?

Keith felt his head ache as conflicting thoughts swirled through his mind.

He didn’t even know when he fell asleep.

It wasn’t until night that Keith woke up.

His gaze couldn’t help but linger around the room.

This was the most luxurious place he had ever experienced.

And according to Jeso, there was still something even better than this.

He clenched his fingers as he sat up from the bed and walked over to the desk.

"Me... killing him got me this..." Keith muttered, thinking about the giant man who had tortured both his body and soul.

"And... me killing... that boy... helped me keep this."

Keith clenched his fists as his eyes turned cold.

Anyways...

He had always received nothing but pain and cruelty from the world.

Everyone who had ever been kind to him had been killed.

So why should he be kind to anyone else?

"Witch’s son..."

Keith muttered as a grin slowly spread across his face before he laughed wildly.

And so the days passed, one after another, as the legend of The Devil grew stronger.

With each battle, Keith became more efficient...

And more brutal.

No matter who his opponent was...

Keith...

No...

The Devil killed them all.

Not a single gladiator lived to tell the tale.

Yet the other gladiators still heard stories of his terrifying deeds, and an unknown fear slowly spread among them.

It had been more than three months since Keith had become The Devil of the arena.

He noticed that with every kill, he was rewarded.

Stronger armor.

Better food.

And his once-thin, malnourished body gradually recovered.

Even the guards treated him with more respect.

His strange power also seemed to grow even stronger.

Now, he could coat his knife with a deep crimson aura that made it several times sharper.

Or he could coat his feet, greatly increasing his speed.

Everything had brought him into a new world he had never known.

And today...

He had won his thirty-sixth match.

Now, according to the records, Keith had killed more than thirty humans.

He had also long since earned the right to choose his own weapon.

At this moment, he and Jeso walked into an entirely new area he had never seen before.

Intense heat brushed across his face again and again as the constant clash of metal echoed throughout the place.

"This is our blacksmith division, responsible for forging our weapons," Jeso introduced with a smile as they entered.

Keith was shocked.

The room was much larger than he had expected.

More than twenty men with bulging muscles continuously hammered glowing metal as waves of heat spread across every inch of the room.

The moment Keith stepped inside, large beads of sweat rolled down his face one after another.

Jeso smiled.

"You’ve won your thirty-sixth match, so you’re more than qualified to have your own weapon."

"You are now granted the privilege of choosing any weapon you desire."

With a smile, Jeso introduced another man to Keith.

"Our Head Blacksmith will be at your service."

As the loud sounds of metal striking metal filled the room, an elderly man slowly approached.

He smiled politely before speaking in a deep, resonant voice.

"Young man..."

"What type of weapon do you want?"

The blacksmith asked as Keith narrowed his eyes.

Ever since his twentieth victory, he had been wondering what kind of weapon he truly wanted.

A sword?

A blade?

An axe?

A mallet?

What exactly?

He had faced all of these weapons before.

He knew their strengths and weaknesses.

Yet...

He still felt something was missing.

He couldn’t decide.

The old blacksmith noticed this and smiled once again.

"Follow me."

He led them into another room behind the blacksmith workshop.

Jeso and Keith followed closely behind.

The instant they entered, Keith’s expression changed.

A sharp pressure rushed toward him, causing his body to tense.

"Hahaha..."

"He’s a good lad."

Seeing Keith’s reaction, the old blacksmith couldn’t help but laugh.

It seemed this young man truly was talented.

He could actually sense the sharpness radiating from the weapons stored in this room.

Behind them, Jeso also smiled after seeing Keith’s reaction.

No wonder he had managed to win every one of his matches.

This kid...

He was a rare talent.

"In here are all the weapons you could possibly think of."

"Take your time."

The old blacksmith stepped aside as a vast collection of weapons spread out before Keith.

Keith gulped as he slowly stepped forward, calming himself while examining one weapon after another.

From behind him, the old blacksmith’s voice sounded once more.

"Kid..."

"A weapon isn’t just a tool for defeating your enemy or defending yourself."

"A weapon can also be your partner..."

"Your most trusted companion in times of crisis."

"A weapon is not just a tool..."

"It is a representation of who you are."

"A great warrior is often remembered by his weapon."

"And in some cases..."

"His weapon speaks before he does."

"Choose wisely," the old blacksmith’s voice sounded as Keith’s hand paused just as he was about to grab a large halberd.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed another weapon.

The old blacksmith’s eyes widened.

Jeso’s expression froze as both of them gulped.

The instant Keith grabbed the weapon, they felt his entire aura change.

"A scythe?"

"Kid, this weapon is..." the blacksmith wanted to advise Keith, but then Keith raised his eyes, and the old blacksmith’s heart skipped a beat.

He saw a vision of thousands of humans grimacing in pain as a river of blood surged across the land. An individual held a long red scythe coated in black coral-like crystals as he stood like the reaper of the realm, a terrifying aura spreading from him.

His words disappeared as Keith spoke.

"This weapon is perfect."

Keith raised his head as he spoke.

The scythe was more than two meters long, over twice Keith’s height, yet watching the boy hold it made it feel as though it had been made specifically for him.

"Then, kid, take it and make a name for yourself with this weapon," the old blacksmith said with a laugh as Keith nodded and left with Jeso.

Watching the boy’s back disappear, the old blacksmith couldn’t help but laugh.

"The arena’s structure will likely be changed by this kid," the old blacksmith laughed as he spoke.

---

Outside, Jeso said goodbye to Keith. After all, he had other things to do.

As for Keith...

After spending three months here, he knew his way around as he headed back to his room.

Just as he turned the last corner and his feet touched the ground, his expression froze.

His eyes widened.

His heart pounded violently as every nerve in his body tensed, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

A warning flashed through his mind.

If he moved...

He would die.

Sweat dripped from his forehead as he couldn’t help but wonder what was happening.

"Ah..."

"Great... instincts."

A voice that sounded like death whispered into his ear.

Keith’s entire body trembled as every muscle tightened.

Then...

It was gone.

"Ha... ha..."

Keith took sharp breaths as his face became drenched in sweat.

"At that moment..."

Keith hurriedly looked back, but there was no one there.

He knew...

Someone had walked past him.

But who could possibly give him that much pressure?