Chapter 5
‘That can’t be right.’
Leon, who had watched the slaves dying up close, felt sick to his stomach.
It would be a lie to say he had expected anything.
That one of the slaves would be a hidden master, pull off an incredible feat, bring down the Minotaur, and save everyone.
The beginning of a hero’s tale.
He had never even imagined such a thing. One look at their trembling figures made that clear. Whatever hope he’d had vanished completely.
However, he had judged that they would at least be of some use.
He could work with them to wear down the Minotaur’s stamina, or use them as bait and have them deal meaningful damage.
And after that, even if they died, his own odds of winning would go up, if only by a little.
They could call him a coward all they wanted. If it meant surviving, Leon was willing to sell his soul to the devil.
But they died pointlessly, having proven useful for nothing. They vanished after becoming a fleeting source of amusement for the crowd.
Thanks to that, it turned into a one-on-one execution match between Leon and the Minotaur. It was as if the two of them had been the only ones there from the start.
-Uwoooooooo!
The Minotaur roared as if it meant to bring the arena down. The monster’s oppressive aura, enough to freeze the weak in place, crashed down upon him.
He caught sight of spectators foaming at the mouth and fainting at the edge of his vision, but Leon had no room to spare to worry about them.
“Kkh….”
He bit his lip and crushed down his fear. The metallic taste of blood wet his tongue.
If not for the status window’s assistance, the sheer violence of that sound would have had him pissing himself and collapsing long ago.
If his legs froze here, it was over. A moment’s carelessness would lead to irreversible consequences.
-Grrrr….
The Minotaur lowered its stance. Its muscles tensed taut, signaling the start of a charge.
Leon leapt on pure instinct, without thought. An instant later, the spot where he had been standing exploded. The ground literally burst apart.
-KWAANG!
The blast of wind felt as if it would tear his skin apart. Though he’d escaped by a hair’s breadth, Leon’s body drifted through the air like a fallen leaf.
Dust rose like a storm in the wake of that terrifying mass, and the arena wall behind him screamed as it showered down fragments.
A bitter chuckle touched Leon’s lips at the sight of such a purely brute-force charge.
‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’
There was a limit to how much of a thrill-seeker you could be. How the hell was he supposed to win against this?
At this point, it almost seemed like match fixing, but even if it was, Leon was the only one with any reason to complain.
-Uwooooo!
Slaves weren’t even allowed the luxury of complaining.
Having only smashed the innocent wall, the Minotaur kicked off the ground again.
-KWOONG!
Leon’s reaction came a beat too late. His body was flung into the air with the dust, then rolled helplessly across the floor.
“……Kheuk, kkeok!”
The air in his lungs rushed out all at once. Agonizing pain crashed over his whole body like a wave.
Replacing his brain, which had ground to a halt, the instinct to survive forcibly moved his limbs.
-Roll, roll-roll.
Leon rolled across the dirt floor in a pitiful dodge. Scrabbling, he got back up on all fours like a beast.
When the Minotaur swung an arm, he threw himself down as if burying his face in the ground; when it brought its weight down, he crawled like a dog; and when he still couldn’t get out of the way, he rolled again.
A desperate struggle that could hardly be called skill, and which looked almost comical at first glance.
To the arena crowd, that sight was nothing short of comedy.
“Puhahaha! Look at that, he’s totally a rat!”
“You want to live that disgracefully? Just get stepped on and die already!”
Laughter rolled in like waves, battering the boy’s back.
Even that mockery never reached Leon’s ears. Only the pounding of his own heartbeat rang out, as if it would burst his eardrums.
“Huff, huff, huff….”
Leon gulped down air in a panic. His mouth was full of sand, but he didn’t even have the luxury of spitting it out.
‘At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before I get caught.’
He was fine for now, but he couldn’t keep running forever.
Trying to wear down a monster in this frail body, one that couldn’t even get proper meals, was a fool’s errand.
The conclusion one reached to survive a gladiator match was always the same.
‘I have to kill it. I need to settle this while it still has stamina left.’
If there was one thing Leon realized while running, it was that his physical abilities weren’t entirely inferior to the Minotaur’s.
It was thanks to the skill [Spartacus]. In the arena, his physical abilities increased drastically during combat.
Even so, he was at a disadvantage, but if he put everything into fleeing, escaping itself was possible.
‘But would there be an opening to attack?’
The Minotaur’s body was sturdy. With no one-hit kill move, he had to keep attacking until it went down.
If he slipped up even once in the process, it would be over. He couldn’t bet his life on some vague possibility.
‘I need to find some way….’
As Leon searched his surroundings for anything that might help, his own upper body suddenly came into view.
The blood from the wound he’d taken earlier had soaked his clothes red. And right in front of him was an enraged bull.
“…….”
One thing came to mind.
A way to overturn this absurdity.
This was also close to a gamble.
Whether it would work was uncertain.
‘But do I have any other choice?’
The answer that came back even when he asked himself was ‘NO.’ He had to do it. He had to pull it off, hoping it would work.
Otherwise, he’d die.
Leon staggered to his feet. His legs were shaking, but he could still stand.
He roughly ripped off his leather breastplate, now reduced to rags. If the Minotaur landed a direct hit, it would be over anyway. It was just a nuisance.
And then his shirt as well. He hooked the blood-red shirt over the head of the pickaxe.
Then he waved it back and forth like a flag.
“Hey, bull head.”
Forcing the corners of his mouth upward.
toward the Minotaur.
“Come here.”
***
In the third-floor VIP box overlooking the arena, Renoa watched the match with a flat expression.
A chaos of swords clashing against swords, and flesh and hide being torn apart.
In a world with almost no entertainment, gladiator combat was the greatest amusement, something men and women, young and old alike, all went wild for.
But this was Renoa’s first time watching a gladiator match.
Just as a bird in a cage couldn’t leave without permission, she too had been born to that fate.
Today too was an outing she could manage only once a week at most. She had spent that precious time on a gladiator match.
“I never imagined the young lady would be interested in gladiatorial combat.”
Her escort knight, Jain, spoke in surprise.
It was strange, given that she had no interest in the social circles young ladies went crazy over, nor in luxury goods.
“Not really.”
But Renoa’s answer was cold.
“Pardon?”
“I’m not interested. Did you think I’d like something like this, Sir Jain?”
“If not, then why….”
“Just to kill time.”
She’d just come because it was said to be the latest spectacle among the nobles. The result was disappointing.
It was nowhere near enough to pique Renoa’s interest.
“To spend money on such a ridiculous game… They must have money to burn.”
At Renoa’s biting criticism, Jain fell silent.
Of course. He’d wondered why she would suddenly take an interest in it.
Soon, the fighters for the next match entered.
“It’s that boy from earlier.”
Among the fighters entering the arena, Renoa fixed her eyes on the black-haired boy.
A boy her own age with a delicate face that didn’t suit a gladiator at all.
A moment ago, he had trembled when he saw her, as if he’d seen a ghost.
She didn’t know why.
And she wasn’t particularly curious, either.
“Why is he carrying something like that?”
What caught Renoa’s attention was the pickaxe Leon was holding. Everyone else had weapons, while he alone had a pickaxe.
“Before becoming a gladiator slave, that one worked as a miner. He says a pickaxe feels more natural in his hands than a weapon or something. He’s a strange one.”
Bardic added from the side, with a sycophantic tone.
A pickaxe in the arena, of all things.
Thinking it quite a ridiculous sight, she watched the match begin.
But what followed could hardly be called gladiatorial combat.
It was a slaughter.
The slaves crumpled before the Minotaur’s overwhelming violence. They fell like autumn leaves and were reduced to pulp.
The boy named Leon, who had barely survived, fled in a posture with no trace of dignity.
“Yeah! Kill him!”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
The audience, drunk on that sadistic slaughter, let out frenzied cheers.
Renoa let out a short sigh and glared at Bardic. Even while his own slaves were dying, he was grinning.
“Looks like you picked the wrong ones. Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Haha, why would I do something like that? They’re all money, after all.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course. I just trusted them, and the results weren’t good at all. I suppose I expected too much of them.”
“Hmm.”
One of the few strengths Renoa possessed was her keen powers of observation.
She was often able to see through another person’s hidden intentions from minute details like facial expressions, manner of speaking, tone, and breathing.
To Renoa, Bardic’s words were a blatant lie with not a shred of sincerity in them.
He had sent them out against the Minotaur knowing they would lose.
Did he have some personal grudge? Or was it simply to create a more sensational scene?
Whatever the circumstances, it was none of Renoa’s concern. She rose from her seat.
“Let’s go back. This is a waste of time.”
“Huh? You’re leaving already? The main event is still left, so if you could watch that before you go….”
“Forget it.”
This sort of simple, sadistic slaughter was something Renoa could make anytime if she wanted to.
Just as Renoa, after standing up, was about to leave the arena.
“……?”
The cheers that had been shaking the arena all this time suddenly fell silent. The spectators, drenched in madness, all held their breath.
“Young lady.”
Jain called to Renoa and motioned toward the arena. His expression was rather serious, so Renoa turned her head in confusion.
In the middle of the battlefield strewn with corpses.
Leon, who had been fleeing miserably just moments ago, was swinging his pickaxe and toying with the Minotaur.