Alazamia, one of the four major cities of the Taurus Empire and said to be the hub of the northwestern region, has multiple arenas.
The largest of these is the central arena, which is used for battles between senior gladiators, special events such as tournaments, and special battles such as humans versus carnivores or humans versus monsters.
With a few exceptions, fighting in the central arena is synonymous with execution, so it was a place that was extremely feared by lower and intermediate gladiators.
The next biggest thing was one of roughly the same size, one on the east and west sides of the city.
It is also simply called the East Arena or the West Arena, and is mainly used for matches between intermediate gladiators.
In addition to the upper and intermediate gladiators, there are five arenas in the city for lower-class gladiators, and many battles are held every day, and someone loses their life every day.
It’s a loss for the showman to see a swordsman they have bought die, but the audience still comes to see a real fight and, above all, a real death.
Therefore, sometimes there were not only accidental deaths during battles, but also battles were arranged to dispose of useless swordsmen with no hope of promotion.
And the match I’m currently watching is one of those punishment matches.
“Haha, You are very persistent. But you can’t win just by being persistent or running away!”
The laughing gladiator is Battuza, the executioner.
Like me, Battuza is often treated as a villain or a barrier to intermediate level, but he is also often sent to punishment games like this.
It goes without saying that he has the ability to slaughter his opponents without fail, but it is probably because he knows how to kill in a cruel and helpless manner that satisfies the sadistic feelings of the audience.
Battuza was even more professional than me, and was hated by the other gladiators even more than me.
But, well, Battuza didn’t really matter.
What I came to see today was not Battuza.
It’s unlikely that Battuza, who is also on the wall to the intermediate level, will be scheduled to play against me, and even if he were, I don’t feel like losing.
It would be impossible for me to fight him while taking care not to kill him as I always do, but I don’t think he would ask me to do so in case I fight Battuza.
Rather than that, what I came to see was my opponent.
Right now, it was a gladiator named Tyrone who was forced to fight Battuza for punishment.
My relationship with Tyrone is not that of acquaintances or friends.
In fact, Tyrone probably hates me.
Although Tyron is a gladiator, he is not a southern barbarian but a full-fledged member of the Taurus Empire.
It’s not that swordsmen from the Taurus Empire are extremely rare, but he has a somewhat unusual background, and seems to have originally served as a private soldier for a nobleman.
I don’t know if he made a big mistake at work, or if he ruined himself by gambling or getting into women, but Tyrone was highly skilled for a novice swordsman.
Perhaps because he was such a talented person, Tyrone looked down on the lower grade gladiators around him and did not try to train with them, instead trying to rise to the intermediate and advanced levels all at once.
And it was me who prevented him from doing so, as I was the barrier to the intermediate level.
Tyrone was certainly quite skilled with a sword, but he was far from good enough to pass the intermediate level and reach the advanced level.
Low stamina, especially due to lack of training, is fatal.
Besides, I thought that if he trained a little more in the lower ranks, the quality of the lower-class gladiators that the showman had would improve as a result of Tyrone’s formally learned sword techniques.
That’s why I said,
“Hmph, trying to beat me with that level of skill is a pain in the ass. However, it’s been a long time since I’ve faced an opponent using Belgarat’s style of swordsmanship. I had quite a bit of fun. Next time you will have to train a little harder before coming back here.”
By saying such things, I had prevented Tyrone’s promotion to the intermediate level.
Even now, I don’t think I made the wrong decision at the time.
In fact, after that, Tyrone began to devote himself to training in a way that was completely different from before.
The showman laughed and said that he must have been very frustrated that he was surpassed by me in his sword skills, which is his specialty.
…However, a problem occurs during that training.
All I know is that a problem occurred during training, but I don’t know what actually happened.
Did he break his body through hard training, did he have an accident during training, or did something happen to another low-ranking gladiator?
The showman only said that there was a problem during training, so I had no right to pursue anything further.
In the end, Tyrone breaks his left leg and is unable to fight effectively.
Even so, if he were fighting an amateur, he might be able to fight even though he could not use one of his legs and could not step or stomp.
But as a gladiator, Tyrone’s opponent is a gladiator whose unfortunate defeat could lead to death.
If he knew that Tyrone’s weak point was his left leg, he would attack it.
Eventually, when Tyrone was no longer able to win, he was punished, and there he stands today.
With Belgarato’s sword technique, second sword, and Kaesakiri, he should have been able to slit Battuza’s wrist at this moment.
However, Tyrone’s left foot was unable to hold down, so he was unable to perform the Belgarato-style Kasekikiri, which is his specialty, and ended up injuring his hand.
Battuza’s expression twisted into joy.
Originally, it is fun to torture a swordsman of his own ability.
Battuza’s attack gained even more momentum and drove Tyrone closer to the edge.
And then..
“Aaaaaaaahhhh! Arm!- My arm!!!”
Tyrone’s arm, which had once unleashed a Belgarato’s sword technique, was severed, leaving only a piece of skin, and hung loosely.
The victory was already decided.
But the real thing is about to begin.
That’s why I don’t look away.
Tyrone’s screams, which had been screaming in confusion, stopped.
Battuza’s blade sliced through Tyrone’s neck, leaving only a piece of skin, just like his arm.
“Hee hee”
With a cruel smile on his face, Battuza kicked Tyrone in the chest, and his head was removed from his body on the ground, and the blood that gushed out stained the arena red in blood.
Loud screams, cheers, and voices mixed with various emotions poured into the arena.
This moment is probably the most exciting of the day in this arena.
I won’t take my eyes off it.
Even now, I think I made a mistake in blocking Tyrone’s promotion.
Battuza didn’t do anything wrong either.
It was the showman who made the decision, and Battuza simply followed that decision.
That decision was made because Tyrone was no longer able to win.
However, I will never forget this ending.
