Warhammer: Should I also sit on the Golden Throne?

0078 The aura of Slaanesh is afflicting high-ranking riders.

heat.

Diya has been getting increasingly agitated lately.

The red bricks were scorching hot, enough to melt the soles of sandals. Pale smoke rose from the ground, swirling in the air and dancing with the distorted air caused by the intense heat. With each breath, one could feel the summer heatwave rushing into the lungs, taking away every last breath of air from the body.

The strangest thing is that the heat doesn't seem to come from the sun, but from the air, from something beneath reality, as if some scorching heat source is hidden beneath Diya, baking her.

Many high-ranking riders share the same view as Lord Supra: this is because the gods are anticipating this 'war' duel.

His gilded sandals trod the steps of the arena, and silver metallic threads peeked through his golden hair. These were implants used by high-ranking riders to control silver vines, which coiled behind Lord Supra, shimmering in the bright sunlight.

Lasita stood guard beside Supra, his eyes scanning warily over the high-ranking riders who were taking their seats in the arena.

Each of them carried silver vines, and this was indeed the best time for them to cause trouble.

But they are no match for the Royal Guard. These high-ranking riders have long since fallen into decadence while indulging in pleasure. Their silver vines are still powerful, but can they still use them skillfully?

In contrast, every high-ranking rider in the Royal Guard was handpicked by Lasita, and some were even personally selected by Supra. They were all proficient in using silver vines and could also wield the more powerful weapons inherited from their families from the First Kingdom era.

Even if the high-ranking riders cause trouble, she can lead her personal guard to suppress them.

More importantly, the royal guards had their cattle in their hands.

The guards stationed at the arena numbered only about fifty men, while the main force of the guards were scattered throughout the city, guarding against enemies on the city walls, preventing riots among the free people, and, more importantly... guarding the "property" of the high-ranking riders in the Eighth District.

As for those gladiators... what's the difference between warriors who only know how to fight but not how to wage war and clowns?

Deepak's concerns seemed ridiculous to Lasita.

"Look at them, my Lasita." Lord Supra swept a sorrowful gaze over the high-ranking riders in the arena stands.

The high-ranking riders had already filled the arena's boxes, while those with less power and status had to sit in the open-air stands.

But this did not stop them from enjoying themselves. Every high-ranking rider was accompanied by at least three slaves: one to shade the rider from the sun with a heavy parasol, one to fan them, and one to feed them fruit soaked in ice.

The most outrageous people even had their slaves bring their own sofas to the stands, where they would lie down.

"How pathetic, Lasita, can you find ten high-level riders weighing less than 200 pounds?"

"My Lord, why don't you ask me to conquer the Coastal Alliance by myself?" Lasita said, looking down at Lord Supra.

Supra looked up to meet Lasita's gaze, and a smirk involuntarily tugged at the corner of his mouth.

His height had always been a lack of his imposing presence, while Lasita was a robust woman who was nearly two meters tall.

Supra felt uncomfortable every time he stood next to Lasita.

But Lasita's loyalty to himself was beyond question, and among the high-ranking riders, Lasita was one of the few who still retained some of the old martial spirit.

Compared to that, the slight awkwardness of standing next to her, and her quirks, are relatively tolerable.

"My lord, it's so hot today, and the night is unbearable. After this duel, would you be so kind as to invite me to my manor to sample the honey wine imported from the Coastal Alliance...?"

"I regret to decline, Ms. Lasita," Supra said, trying to keep her expression unchanged.

Last time I went there, Lasita used his own mouth as a wine glass for Super.

Besides extravagance and decadence, lewdness is also ravaging high-level riders!

This is what the great king thought to himself.

Lord Supra entered the box at the highest point of the arena.

The air conditioning was on in the private room, and various fruits soaking in ice were piled on the table. Deepak's worm-like body stood beside the table, waiting for Supra with a fawning smile.

Supra sat down behind the table.

"My Lord, look, these are grapes presented by the Coastal Alliance, melons presented by the desert cities, and honey presented by the mountain cities."

"And this, the locusts roasted until crispy and fragrant, presented by the high-ranking riders, are both sweet and spicy..."

Supra glanced at the roasted locusts on the table.

Once, their ancestor Tarka I was the prince of the First Kingdom among the stars, who conquered billions of stars; now, all his descendants seek is a pot of roasted locusts.

"I care more about that 'war' than any of these things."

Supra gazed at the red sand battlefield outside the private box and said.

"My Lord, my Bright Light, rest assured, I have made all the arrangements. You will be thrilled to watch." Deepak hurriedly bowed to Supra with his massive body.

"I would prefer my high-level riders to be really excited."

Supera let out a deep breath:

"You know what? I kind of regret letting you implant the butcher's nail in that slave."

"I think he might have a point."

"These past few days, I've occasionally seen blood, war, rising sulfurous smoke, and the god of war looking down on me in my dreams."

"Blood, slaughter, war—that's what the God of War desires. My high-ranking riders are far removed from these things."

"Hopefully this gladiatorial contest will result in a bloodbath, so that they can learn a lesson about war from these gladiators."

How can high-level riders learn from gladiators?

Deepak was stunned, unable to imagine how the high-level riders would react if they heard this.

But he dared not refute Supra's words; he could only bow, salute, and then connect to the Worm Eye.

"Honorable high riders, rejoice! Shout eight times for our glorious Lord Supra, for our radiant light!"

A burst of enthusiastic cheers erupted from the arena, and with it, the four iron gates on one side of the arena swung open with a loud crash.

The blinding sunlight shone on Zhou Yun's face, sweeping over the Butcher's Nail above his head, and scorching heat waves surged from the red sand, sweeping across his face and the faces of every gladiator.

"It's so hot..." Onomamus muttered softly.

Standing next to Onomamus, Angron nodded in agreement.

Compared to Onomamus, this Primarch reacted more strongly to the surrounding heat. His breathing became heavy, and the heat waves, swirling with distorted air, rushed into his lungs, making him slightly agitated.

It's subspace... As a psionicist, Zhou Yun could more clearly determine what caused this heat.

The warp energy generated by those gladiatorial battles was neither consumed by the demons nor shared with the high-ranking riders of Daisy. Instead, it accumulated beneath the veil of the arena, growing larger with each battle, eventually penetrating the veil and seeping into reality, creating this sweltering climate.

What a waste, you Khorne demons, wasting your lives just because you were scared a few times.

Since the Khorne demons won't eat it, Zhou Yun will use this warp energy to have a lavish buffet.