Chapter 8
The key points of this gladiator match can be summed up in three broad items.
1. Survive
2. Avoid Renoa
3. Quest
I had to survive while staying out of Renoa's sight, and at the same time make her interested in gladiatorial combat.
Separated, they were all shitty enough on their own, but together they formed a collaboration from hell. It really was a total shitshow.
Of those, the most important one—survival—had, as you could see, been successfully completed.
My shoulder was a little hurt, but I hadn't lost a limb, and it wasn't anything that would seriously interfere with daily life.
As for the second task, avoiding Renoa, she had come over while I was unconscious, so there was no way to stop it.
I thought I was screwed, but it ended up turning out well in a way I never expected. It gave me a lead on escaping this disgusting place.
And the final quest.
Well, that one goes without saying.
======
Master's order 『Make Renoa Edelheid interested in gladiatorial combat and satisfy your master.』 has been successfully completed.
A reward has been granted.
======
A blue message crossed my vision.
As expected.
The moment Renoa decided to personally sponsor me, it was practically a done deal.
With that, I achieved the great feat of completing all three goals.
Now it was time to reap the final reward.
Time to check the quest reward.
An A-rank skill, no less.
'What on earth would I get?'
I checked it with a pounding heart, like opening my very first Christmas present ever.
======
A reward has been granted.
[1. Weakness Insight]
You can see through a target's weakness. Eye strain changes depending on the skill gap between you and your opponent.
[2. Overclock]
Pushes the body to its limit and transcends its boundaries. After use, you are unable to act for 24 hours.
[3. Blessing of the Chains]
When you are a slave, growth efficiency rises dramatically.
======
“Oh.”
Line after line— the reward list filled the screen.
Maybe because the rank was high.
Up until now, it had only raised proficiency and nothing else, but now I was finally getting a reward worthy of a status window.
I looked over the skills one by one.
First, 'Weakness Insight.' In modern slang, you'd call it a thread of weakness.
Being able to see through an opponent's weakness is pretty tempting.
If this were an eroge, I would have picked this one without hesitation.
Like a strong-willed female knight's weak point being her asshole, or a sensitive spot that gushes like crazy the moment you touch it.
But sadly, this wasn't an eroge. It didn't seem like it'd tell me about weaknesses like the kind you're imagining.
Of course, even without that, it would still be a huge help.
For now, I'll hold off.
'Number two is kind of a no.'
Overclock.
In other words, 'Ireon, prepared to die.'
Once the skill ends, I can't move for 24 hours. The risk is far too high.
It might be useful as a trump card when there's no way out, but it's not time for that yet.
What I need right now is fundamentals.
This is a complete no.
That leaves either number one or number three.
'Growth efficiency rises dramatically when you're a slave...'
That's the most tempting one.
I don't know exactly how much it boosts growth efficiency, but it would definitely give my growth a huge push.
Besides, this was still the very early stage. Experience-boosting options are always most efficient when you grab them early.
'It's a shame it only applies while I'm a slave, though...'
I'm already a slave, though?
It's not like I have to go from commoner to slave. You couldn't even call that a risk.
Of course, it'd become useless once I'm freed, but I guess that's fine.
By then, I can just step away from fighting and enjoy a peaceful otherworld life.
[Would you like to acquire Blessing of the Chains?]
I gave it one last thought before deciding.
Weakness Insight is definitely good too.
But look at me now. Even if I can see a weakness, it's useless if I don't have the strength to strike it.
It would just be a pie in the sky.
It'd be better to crank up my fundamentals like crazy and make a late-game comeback.
I chose Blessing of the Chains.
[Blessing of the Chains has been acquired. When you are a slave, growth efficiency rises dramatically.]
'Did something change?'
I clenched and unclenched my fists repeatedly, but I didn't feel anything in particular.
Maybe I'd feel the difference once I started training.
Then let's test it right away...
“Gah!”
The instant I tried to sit up, a wave of searing pain hit me and I writhed.
...Looks like I need to finish recovering first.
***
“The treatment is complete. Please try moving your arm.”
The female priest in white vestments quietly withdrew her hands. The gentle glow lingering at her fingertips scattered into the air.
I waved my arm around as she told me to.
“How does it feel?”
“Wow... it doesn't hurt at all.”
“I'm glad to hear that as well.”
I had to spend the entire three days since Renoa became my sponsor lying in bed.
Bruises and cuts covered my whole body, and the muscles torn beyond their limits had left me in much worse shape than I looked.
My recovery was lousy, too.
Not even three meals a day—just two. And even those were nothing but thin stew with no solids and hard bread.
There was no way my body could get healthy. Since I couldn't eat properly, recovery was painfully slow.
And who am I?
'A man whose price was cheaper than the treatment bill.'
I couldn't even hope for medicine.
It would be far more rational, from Vardic's point of view, to toss me aside like a hamster written off as a total loss and buy a new one.
Or I'd be dragged into a match in this half-dead body and die without even being able to struggle.
In that sense, the three-day recovery period was actually on the short side.
It was all thanks to Renoa. At her request, a cleric dispatched by the church treated me.
Thanks to that, I was able to get back on my feet quickly.
Once Renoa became my sponsor, the surroundings started changing rapidly, and the first change was Vardic's attitude.
“Oh, Leon! How's your body? Are you still having trouble moving around?”
“…Who are you?”
“Ho ho, who else would I be? I'm your master, of course. If you're joking, you must be all better now.”
Apparently I'd taken a serious hit to the head in the Minotaur fight, because Vardic looked downright friendly.
Even divine blessing can't cure madness, huh? Poor me.
“Any problems?”
“I think I hit my head. I'm seeing things.”
“What? You hurt your head? That's serious... Should I call the cleric again...?”
“I'm fine.”
Well, not all madness is the same.
It's better than being cursed to die every day; even if it's creepy, I'd rather have someone smile and worry about me.
I'll live with the madness.
“About the last match, I watched it very closely. I haven't seen such an exhilarating fight in a long time!”
“Ah, yes...”
“Thanks to that, Lady Edelheid has decided to sponsor you as well. It was worth trusting you and sending out the Minotaur!”
What? It was worth it?
Some guy comes back from high-fiving the ferryman of the River Styx, and he has the nerve to talk about it being worthwhile right in front of the person involved.
The other slaves who fought alongside me all died horribly.
The fact that I could casually spout that kind of bullshit meant my head was probably fine after all. This bastard was the problem.
The next thing that changed was the food.
I got my meal in the dining hall like always, but what was on the tray was on a completely different level from my usual food.
Instead of hard black bread, there was freshly baked white bread, stew packed with chunks of meat, and even a fresh apple.
“What's all this?”
“It's the young lady's order to feed you until you're full. She said there's no way you can be a gladiator with a body that thin.”
“Oh...”
It was the most welcome news I'd heard since coming to this world.
I already put my body through hell, and on top of that my meals had been pitifully meager.
Putting taste aside, I was so worried that eating this badly during my growth years would leave me dwarf-sized later on.
It was something I'd begged for months to no avail, and Renoa changed it with a single word.
'Renoa... is she a goddess?'
As the saying goes, if you're good at games you're the older brother, and if you buy someone food you're the older sister. From today on, Renoa was my noona.
The gladiators looked at me with envious eyes. Afraid someone might snatch it away, I hurriedly wolfed it down.
“Ahh~ now this is sex.”
For the first time since coming to this other world, I ate until I was stuffed. Food really is sex.
My body had healed too.
I even got a skill.
My belly was full.
I guess... it's time to train?
***
There was one question I'd had ever since becoming a gladiator slave.
'Why wasn't I gaining any combat-related proficiency?'
It had been two months since I became a gladiator slave, and I'd fought in more than ten matches, yet I hadn't gained a single useful proficiency.
At best, I had [Indomitable]. It helped in battle, but in the end it was only a support skill.
When I worked as a miner, just swinging a pickaxe on my own gave me [Mining] proficiency. Thanks to that, I could mine much more easily.
But now, no matter how much I fought, nothing changed. Even if I swung a sword in the training yard, I didn't gain [Swordsmanship] proficiency.
'What on earth is the difference between then and now?'
After long consideration, I came up with one hypothesis.
'A proficiency only accumulates if it's something worth accumulating.'
Pickaxe work in the mine was something I could do on my own without any teaching.
It was primitive labor: just swing down, break things, and dig them out.
Of course, that still required some skill, but the bare minimum needed to mine ore was something I could figure out on my own.
The system recognized that rough work as a proficiency called [Mining].
But swordsmanship?
A sword is a weapon for taking lives. Swordsmanship is the skill of swinging a sword to kill living things.
There was an immense gulf between simply swinging a pickaxe and swordsmanship, which draws every arc with murderous intent.
That's why, no matter how many days and nights I swung a sword alone, I wouldn't gain proficiency.
Because that wasn't swordsmanship.
I was just a guy swinging a sword around.
That was the hypothesis I'd come up with.
And to prove it, I needed to run an experiment.
“Please teach me swordsmanship.”
I went to find the drunken Dovan.
Dovan had once been a mercenary, but apparently he retired after losing one eye and one leg from a single mistake.
By now, he was an old man doing odd jobs in the arena while spending all day drowning in booze.
Dovan, who had been peeling and eating an apple, frowned the moment he saw me. He worked his mouth, then spat out the rotten part of the apple.
“I wondered who it was, and it's you again. I'm pretty sure I told you dozens of times not to come back.”
This wasn't the first time I'd come looking for Dovan. Forget three visits; I'd gone to him thirty times and been turned away every single time.
The reason was always the same.
“There's nothing to teach someone who's going to die soon like you. Get lost.”
“That's right. You said that before too—that I was going to die soon. The first time you said it was two months ago. And I'm still alive.”
“You were just lucky. Can't say that'll keep going.”
“Maybe I was lucky because I was meant to learn swordsmanship from you, old man? Looks like even heaven felt sorry for me.”
“Hah. You've certainly got a silver tongue.”
I had to be good with words. I was a slave with nothing but my body.
If I couldn't talk my way through things, I wouldn't survive. Flattery is a survival skill for slaves.
“Why on earth do you want to learn swordsmanship from me?”
“Because I don't want to die.”
“No, I mean why me?”
“I'm pretty good at reading people. You look the strongest here, old man.”
That was a lie, of course.
I didn't have some sixth sense that could see through people's essence, and he wasn't some famous NPC from a game either.
It's just that Dovan was the only one who might be willing to teach a slave like me swordsmanship.
“...You greenhorns do have decent judgment. These days, so-called gladiators only care about looking flashy. They don't even reach the toes of my prime.”
As long as the listener was satisfied, that was fine, right? Dovan snorted and nodded.
“You said you wanted to learn the sword, right? If I help you, what can you do for me? Do you even have money to buy me drinks?”
“Have you heard that Lady Edelheid is sponsoring me?”
“I heard the rumor, but you're telling me that was you?”
“Of course. If you help me, I'll repay you once I become a great gladiator. It's a kind of investment.”
“What if you die before then?”
“That would be a shame.”
If I die, that's the end of it. Nothing I can do about that.
Dovan wore a nonchalant expression, but I didn't think he'd refuse.
Teaching me might be a hassle, but backing a promising fighter sponsored by Renoa was a no-lose deal.
Even if I died and the investment failed, all he'd lose was a bit of time.
The risk was close to zero, and the return was infinite.
Come on, repeat after me.
Buy low.
Sell high.
“Fine. I'll teach you. You seem different from the others.”
Nice!
I clenched my fist and let out a silent cheer.
Dovan took a sip of liquor.
“But keep the words you just said. The people I hate most are the ones who skip out on their debts and run.”
“You made a wise investment.”
You bought in at the bottom just now.
I'll make sure you can sell at the peak.