Half of the gladiators who show their faces in the Colosseum for the first time (in fact, more than that) retire quickly under the name of death in their first match.
The Colosseum was originally opened to gain the interest and support of the nobles, but now it has fallen into a “boring match” that fails to elicit a satisfying response.
The brutal matches in the Colosseum where the gladiators’ blood splatters, they gasp for breath, and flesh and bones fly about! …That is now a thing of the past, according to the nobles’ main opinion.
Red Stone had no choice but to admit it in the end.
Garland Hamilton. There was a secret hidden in this overconfident young prince’s proposal that he had not revealed to him. However, it was far too beneficial to refuse.
That was how attractive the tiger beastman named Surabar was as bait.
“A gladiator from a mercenary background specializing in monster hunting… This has topicality. It’s definite. He said he could hunt any decent monster alone. He wields a war hammer used only in sieges… Showing something like that in a sloppy kin-killing would be a loss instead. It’s a waste.”
Proper gladiators had all been sliced up by Archduke Greenwood’s champion, and the only ones left in the gladiator quarters were walking corpses kept for the occasional need to show blood. Red Stone saw it there.
“That’s the one.” Even if he added up all the male tail-bearers he had searched for across the kingdom and occasionally captured by raiding the Demon King’s Army territories, none could match this one…
Bound in chains, but with untamed eyes.
Rebellious, impure, and knowing what freedom is—how such a creature ended up captured by a greenhorn like Garland was a mystery… but it was a fruit far too sweet to refuse.
The King of Bers ultimately decided to accept the young Hamilton’s proposal.
“I can’t keep showing myself being pushed back by that Greenwood bastard. A former mercenary monster specialist hunter from an allied country… Surabar! I must put him forward and show who the true master of the Colosseum is. Do slave bastards in the Colosseum think they can stand against me just because they’re good at stabbing with swords? Unforgivable…!”
Archduke Greenwood was recently the existence that most irritated the King of Bers.
In the past, Archduke Greenwood was one of the most important sponsors who helped the current Red Stone ascend to the throne when Tolland Hamilton was still the “border count” of Mosul.
Their relationship had been decent enough until recently… but after he outright rejected the woman the archduke’s family had pushed as a queen candidate, their relationship had completely soured.
But he could not possibly take the woman the archduke offered as his wife.
A fat, ugly woman over forty, whose ability to bear children was doubtful, as his wife—and not even as a concubine, but as the queen?
Even without Medeya, it was an excessive demand he could not tolerate.
“I’d rather bite my tongue and die.”
“Your Majesty? What do you mean…?”
“…Never mind. I spoke out of turn. More importantly, are there no decent monsters? I need a truly terrifying and gigantic monster to shock the people in the Colosseum.”
“The guards are doing their best.”
“Best is not enough. It must be a monster so terrifying that the spectators just sitting and watching will have seizures from shock.”
“Yes, yes…!”
“Idiots.”
Red Stone sighed as he watched the guards rush out. Useful talent was dwindling by the day.
The racial alliance… no, the Demon King’s Army had changed from the time it sparked the great war in the past. The current racial alliance showed no hostility toward him, the Tar Kingdom, or the Human Empire. It seemed focused on recovering from the wounds of war.
However, passive resistance or surprise attacks through small units continued.
Every time he heard reports of useful, talented individuals dying to the strikes of separate units, it felt like the walls were crumbling bit by bit.
After the great war, both sides suffered heavy losses and agreed to a truce to observe the situation for a while, but that did not mean the war was completely over.
Even now, the Demon King’s Army forces in standoff were filled with disgusting creatures bearing blessings not only from Hokhma but from other racial gods or unheard-of evil deities.
If he ambushed them, they could ambush him in return.
It did not lead to all-out war, but the officially unacknowledged surprise operations and minor provocations (though for those involved, it was a matter of life and death) were accumulating damage no less than a full-scale war.
“…Surabar, if that bastard fulfills his role, this irritating standoff will end. While Mosul is subdued by the Emperor, I can swallow the Tar Kingdom. If that happens… I no longer need to fear the Human Empire or the Demon King’s Army. Hokhma’s blessing is mine. Mine…”
Red Stone, the ruler of Bers, looked down at the empty Colosseum.
Beneath the sand, the gladiators’ blood, flesh, and lost molars that obscured the view, a magic circle that no one knew about was hidden. It was a magic circle drawn by Medeya with the blood of living sacrifices.
“There’s no rule that only tail-bearers must be offered as living sacrifices. …Like our ancestors, the time to return as the glorious lords of the Black Lands is near.”
The foolish nobles cheering at the blood-splattering gladiator matches. Greenwood, who showed hostility toward him without restraint. And the young Hamilton’s champion, who knew nothing…
If the Silver Owl’s attention had drifted away, he would drag it down to the ground and forcibly teach it who the true master of the Black Lands was.
***
“P-P-P… P-Pleased to… m-meet you… Y-Y-Your… H-Highness…!”
“I’m going to lose it.”
Did she not listen to what he said yesterday? Or was her personality so passive that she bowed her head to him despite knowing?
Either way, Redron covered his eyes with his palm and then dry-washed his face as he looked at his half-sister who had come to visit him (or rather, his friend).
Listening to Annabella speak made his breath catch.
Even if he brought in a person of great character, anyone dealing with Annabella would fail to contain their anger, and the back of their neck would throb.
However, he could not throw a tantrum like when he was young in front of Jasmine, who welcomed Annabella warmly.
“Endure… Endure it. Annabella is a child who will soon marry into another family. I can’t show an ugly side in front of Jasmine…”
“Come in, Annabella.”
“J-J-Jasmine.”
Annabella finished greeting the first prince and moved to Jasmine’s side in an instant.
…Was that child someone who could move so quickly and swiftly? As that doubt arose, Redron sighed at the same time.
It had been a good moment and a good day.
At this point, with childbirth approaching, he had not expected anything that could harm the baby anyway.
Still, the fact that the excitement was shattered and the ripening atmosphere was blown away by a strong wind remained unchanged.
It should be okay to sulk a bit… Thinking that, Redron kept a moderate distance ( Annabella still feared him. Or perhaps she feared everyone in the world except Jasmine and her personal maid) and cleared his throat with a “Ahem!” to signal the two women displaying intimacy.
He gave a “Ahem!” signal to the two women displaying intimacy.
First Prince Redron, still here.
“So, what brings you here today, Annabella?”
It was dreadful, something he should never have done!
“Good heavens! What have I done?”
Redron shuddered at the greasy, pitiful voice that was utterly horrifying even though he had said it himself.
Of course, that was only in his mind.
At his behavior, not only Jasmine but even his beloved half-sister looked more shocked and horrified than when he used to hit, pinch, and curse at her in the past.
“…I want to die. No, I don’t want to die leaving her behind.”
You’ve truly gone mad, Redron… He almost heard his father’s voice, who was not here.
But words already spoken could not be taken back.
Since Redron had started acting the part of a “kind older brother,” he decided to see it through to the end.
Trembling with awkwardness, embarrassment, and a shame he had never experienced before was better than showing Jasmine his wicked older brother side.
Probably.
***
KRRRRROOOAAAR! The fierce beast’s roar filled the Colosseum.
The King of Bers looked at the monster the soldiers had captured. It was a specimen far below expectations, utterly pathetic.
It was insufficient to satisfy the audience whose standards had risen so high.
But it wasn’t that bad. Shortcomings could be made up with numbers.
It was not a monster like a troll or ogre that excited the audience just by appearing, but a bipedal monster with a “real” beast’s head was perfect for providing a plausible spectacle.
The soldiers had done their job well. In their own way.
Capturing ten live dog-headed monsters as “practice opponents” to verify whether the young Hamilton’s words were true was worthy of praise.
Now, on the arena, two massive iron mobile cages faced each other.
One held Garland’s boasted “champion,” and the other held a restrained group of ten dog-headed monsters.
“There’s not a shred of refinement to be found. Disgusting mongrels.”
The dog-headed monsters were a horrific breed that, once the iron bars were opened, would charge at people indiscriminately and devour their blood and flesh alive.
They were perfect for unleashing the true nature of nobles armed with decorum and etiquette.
“Young Hamilton. Are you sure it will be alright?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Please trust my ‘champion.’ He can handle it in an instant.”
“Hmm… Very well.”
Nod. At the king’s gesture, the mage chanted a spell. The demonstration match began.
The magic locking the cage doors was released. Then, the dog-headed monsters, frothing at the mouth and thinking of Surabar on the opposite side as prey, charged without forming ranks.
At that sight, the King of Bers thought it might be fine to use those disgusting things for another match later. Meanwhile, Red Stone kept his eyes wide open to not miss the upcoming death (no matter the target).
The young Hamilton showed no worry at all, even though it was a demonstration match to prove his champion’s worth.
He was even savoring pre-prepared wine and acting boldly like the nobles of Bers. Whether it was bravado or true confidence remained to be seen…
“Grrrrr…!!”
“Woof! Woof woof!!”
“Grr! Woof!!”
“What a load of nonsense.”
Red Stone watched the dogs barking as they escaped the cage.
The anticipated “death” had not yet occurred. …Why? Red Stone belatedly understood what was happening in the arena.
“You were right.”
“I didn’t expect it to turn out like this… I apologize for failing to show a proper demonstration match, Your Majesty.”
“Your champion being exceptional is not your fault. I won’t blame you.”
There was no anticipated “fierce fight.”
The eyes that had been looking at something disgusting now turned to something pitiful facing death.
The dog-headed monsters that had charged at Surabar while frothing at the mouth were pushed back by his presence and returned to their cage.
Whimper, whine…! Their tails between their legs, begging to be spared somehow, was utterly pathetic.
They already knew. That even with ten of them pushing with numbers, it was not prey they could bite and hold a festival of blood over.
“There’s no need to kill things we can use later. Garland, tell him not to kill them all.”
“As Your Majesty commands.”
Red Stone stood and left the Colosseum.
The moment the king left and the door closed, the war hammer smashed the monster’s head.
KWAAJIK!