The seventh group battle royal had finally concluded, and the echoes of steel, screams, and shattering bones were replaced by the grim symphony of the aftermath.Below, in the vast oval of the arena, the slaves had already begun their morbid work. They moved in hasty, disciplined swarms, driven by the whips and barked orders of overseers. Bare feet slapped against the blood-slick sand, carrying buckets of water, shovels, and coarse cloths. The stench of iron hung thick in the air, mingling with the acrid smoke of burning flesh.