Lyle arrived at the independent room reserved for VIP guests. This area seemed to be originally meant for team gladiators to rest, with interior space slightly larger than the Necromancer Figure Club’s laboratory. The pillars supporting the vast space were of black rock etched with red magic runes, at the seams where the pillars met the ground, cracks of black and red were revealed. These were probably part of Black Abyss Arena’s central stabilizing barrier array, with the active runes proving it was still in operation.

Lyle thought of the intense battles that took place in this arena and found it difficult to imagine how an arena that could even withstand Mr. Raymond’s attacks maintained its stability.

"Where does the immense magic power needed to maintain stability come from?"

"The answer is, from Hell," a female demon from the Demon Race approached from outside the room, accompanied by two solemn-faced Guards of Fear, attesting to the exceptional status of this demon.

She wore simple, tidy attire, her collar and cuffs meticulously folded, an air of competence about her that contrasted sharply with the frenetic nature typical of the Demon Race. Her gaze at Lyle was more akin to the icy detachment of liches.

"Peace be with you, Mr. Plague Doctor," the female demon curtsied, "I am your caretaker for this competition. I am responsible for informing you of the rules of the Hellfire Invitational, as well as the construction of the gates to Hell. My name is Fema of the Black Abyss."

"Black Abyss?"

Miss Fema’s expression remained cool, her demon tail whipping through the air like a lash.

"By lineage, my family indeed owns this arena, but at this moment, I am merely a common caretaker. Mr. Plague Doctor."

"Alright, Miss Fema," Lyle noticed that Fema emphasized the word ’family’ in her speech, along with a hint of irritation in her eyes. This, combined with her neat attire and the meticulously arranged hair secured with seven or eight hairpins, suggested that she was an orderly lady.

Miss Fema of the Black Abyss was clearly a rebellious lady who went against the nature of her demon kin, though in a way that wasn’t displeasing.

Fema clapped her hands lightly, "Alright, Mr. Plague Doctor, please summon your vehicle. You can tune it momentarily; after we have established the teleportation gate, this will be the starting point of your race."

Lyle summoned the Spinal Giant Wheel, a ten-meter-tall behemoth with vicious bone spurs gently scraping against the ceiling, leaving a crack. Faced with such a colossal object, the demons were momentarily taken aback, as this Spinal Wheel was three times the size of ordinary models.

To such a vehicle, Miss Fema merely raised an eyebrow slightly. "Big doesn’t mean better, sharing the same thought pattern as my kindred."

Without further expressing her personal opinion, Fema approached a black pillar, pressing her palm against it. Moments later, a bright red mass of magic was extracted and condensed in Fema’s hand.

"Making use of what’s at hand."

The red magic twisted and took shape in the demon’s hand, stretched and spread out to form a high and low relief map. Lyle realized this appeared to be a topographical map.

"Hell Plane Number Six, the venue for this speed contest. All contestants will first be teleported to the map’s border. Your sole victory condition is to reach the end, which is the Hell Volcano at the center. We’ve set up a teleportation gate at the crater to return the victor."

It sounded fairly straightforward.

Fema hugged her arms, fingers tapping lightly, "As a lich, you are a being of chaotic nature, like the demon kind. But out of personal obligation, I still feel compelled to remind you."

"The only condition for victory is reaching the end, which means contestants may use any means to win."

"Destroy the opponent’s vehicle or the opponent themselves."

"Mr. Plague Doctor, you understand, don’t you?"

Lyle was now keen to sacrifice those Andrey bastards to Raymond.

The demons were just as he had thought; this wasn’t merely a speed contest, it was a fight for survival—a death race. However, it still qualified as a speed contest, albeit one mixed with death.

With things as they were, there was no choice but to accept and adjust.

"I understand."

Fema nodded and turned to begin constructing the teleportation gate. As a demon with peculiar traits, Miss Fema of the Black Abyss still had sufficient perceptiveness, dividing her focus between work and conversation with Lyle, sharing demon knowledge to pass the time during the mundane task.

"These pillars, we call them Hell’s Nails. They’re anchors that fix the world to the Hell Plane and also the devices through which we demons draw power from Hell. To establish a direct gate to Hell, we need these Hell’s Nails as well."

"The origins of these special devices?"

"They are made from the remains of the defeated and rebels. These two are exceedingly common resources among my kind, so there’s no need for concern, please feel free to expend them."

"You inquire about Hell’s location?"

"We ourselves are not certain where exactly the Hell Plane is. It’s a place without a sun. Theories about it being underground or in another world have not been confirmed to this day."

"The only certainty is that Hell is definitely not a place suitable for living. It was only after coming to this world that I understood there were other colors aside from the red of magma and the black of rock," he said.

"The reason for the Demon Race’s arrival in this world, they say, stems from the accidental summoning by some demonologists. Subsequently, they invaded the real world en masse, only to encounter the Crusaders who had just returned from slaying dragons, and many of the demon clans were destroyed on the spot. Sustainable development really is a mandatory course," he remarked.

As he discussed various topics about the Demon Race, Lyle felt he had become quite familiar with Hell, and some of his fear of this taboo word had dissipated.

Between the two Hell’s Nails, a massive teleportation portal with a black base and red rings formed. Fema Black Abyss moved her wrist to signal the completion of the portal and relayed the good news to Lyle.

"Plague Doctor, you may now board your Spinal Giant Wheel. When the war drums sound for the thirteenth time, that will mark the official start of the Hellfire competition. Don’t worry, I will notify you," she said.

"Thank you, Miss Fema," Lyle took a deep breath, readying himself to move inside the Spinal Giant Wheel.

"Please hold on a moment, Plague Doctor," she said.

Behind Lyle, Fema Black Abyss walked up briskly, grabbing his collar to straighten his attire. She meticulously smoothed over the folded creases on his leather coat, adjusted the tightness of his beaked mask’s strap, and straightened his askew hat.

She did not seem like someone from the Demon Race.

Lyle asked the question he had always wanted to know.

"Miss Fema, why did you become my caretaker?" he inquired.

To have a curator of the Black Abyss Arena serving as a caretaker for a Gladiator seemed utterly implausible unless it was of her own volition. For instance, she might want to see the son of a Fallen Angel up close, which wouldn’t be impossible for a Demon Race fanatic.

But for Fema Black Abyss, it seemed unlikely.

The look in Fema’s eyes as she regarded Lyle held no trace of fanaticism, even bordering on being overly cold.

"Becoming the Plague Doctor’s caretaker was indeed a choice I made willingly. I was very curious about the other Prince of the Black Abyss," she admitted.

"And now, I am certain," she continued.

"Plague Doctor, you won’t be coming back in one piece," she declared.

"So, please allow me to prepare your funeral appearance," she offered.

Lyle was left nearly choking on her words, but the ugly instinct to show off in front of a beautiful girl drove him to retort.

"How can you be so sure I won’t win the competition?" he challenged.

Fema’s eyes were clear and lucid.

"Because to my eyes, there’s nothing special about the Plague Doctor. I trust my vision more than rumors. Perhaps you have something hidden, but my judgment does not consider such baseless, unstable factors. If the Plague Doctor truly manages to surprise me, then go ahead and do it," she said plainly.

"Plague Doctor, you cannot defeat the Demon Race in Hell," she stated.

"The Demon Race are chaotic warriors who spread fear and bring destruction. Even holy light won’t shine in Hell. Although this notion can’t be proven, I firmly believe in our abilities as Demons," she asserted.

"Furthermore, Plague Doctor, you are already enmeshed in others’ malice," she added.

Fema Black Abyss leaned in to whisper in Lyle’s ear.

"The power of Hell comes from the fear of an inscrutable source. I hope you’ll remember this, Plague Doctor, and manage to survive well in Hell," she whispered.

This was not an excess of consciousness, but a wariness for unexplained kindness. With this thought, Lyle posed his final question.

"Miss Fema, why tell me all this, just out of curiosity?" If it were merely curiosity, there was no need for the warnings and advice that followed, he pondered.

The war drums of the Black Abyss began to sound, and Lyle entered the Spinal Giant Wheel to stand by.

Fema Black Abyss touched her chin and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. Before long, those ruby-red eyes that were as transparent as crystal looked towards the Spinal Giant Wheel, as if seeing through the flesh and skeletal frame directly to Lyle inside, and she gave her answer.

"Because the Plague Doctor is quite small and very polite, which are traits I like," she confessed.

"To assuage the guilt in my heart, I had to do something," she concluded.