----------------------------------------

A week after Zeph came into the dungeon, the servant brought news of a coming event in the arena, a month later. I didn’t know what the point was in telling him, unless he was participating in the fight, but then I heard he was invited to the private viewing booth of the manager. He was also told he could use the occasion to “freshen up”.

Lucky him, I doubt I'll be part of the show. The gladiator school that owned me closed, and I wasn't sure how they would handle me; I just hoped they didn’t take out the lights.

However, soon after, I was proven wrong. I received a lot more food starting from the same day the news came in, and the next morning a few guards took me out to the training field next to the arena through the underground tunnel.

They just told me to train, and nothing else.

No lanista, and no training partners. Well, at least I got the training weapons. And it's not like the lanista was of much help the last few years. I took turns with all the wooden weapons to remember their feel. I couldn’t maintain the same intensity of my previous training, but I tried to push as much as I could while avoiding injury - which wasn’t much for the first week.

By the end of the month, while I didn't reach my previous level of fitness, I was able to make a good recovery.

The day before the fight, the other gladiators who were participating were brought into the dungeon, and we had the traditional feast - for some, it would be the last good meal in their life. There weren’t many people from outside, since the gladiators weren’t from around here. And since we weren’t acquainted with each other, no one exchanged more than a greeting and a few words, so it was a much quieter feast than what I was used to.

It was around the time I was wondering if I should do something to liven up the atmosphere that I saw a guy approaching.

“Hello, Silvester,” said the man. White garb with symbols of this country's pantheon depicted on it in gold treads, and an air of friendliness so fake I could see it with my eyes closed.

“Oh, hello there, it’s been a while, did you go pester someone else these last few months?” I asked the guy, of whom I never bothered to remember the name. "As I already said, you must change job, man. You have the eloquence of a drunken dwarf and half the charm."

I would even do him a favor and change his Class to 'Corpse'. Nice and quiet, and as fertilizer he'd be a thousand times more useful than alive.

“No. Fortunately, there aren’t people around who need... so much enlightenment, let's say. You are the only one I have seen in my life,” he said, not even trying to conceal the disdain in his voice — as usual.

I wonder why he even bothers to talk to me at all. Probably just to feel superior.

“Yes, I don’t doubt it’s hard to meet people as awesome as me.”

I was also sure that all those who popped out were nicely taken care of.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“I see you haven’t changed at all. I wanted to convince the First Oligarch to change the plan for your fight if you had, but I see that, sadly, I won’t need to,” he said, not sounding sad at all. “Well, while it’s not been a pleasure, I’m glad I was able to talk to you today. It will be the last time after all.”

Ominous much, huh? I would rip that smile right off his face if I could, but I knew he wouldn’t come near me if he didn’t prepare something for defense, and the guards were everywhere. Not that I'd waste my life to kill this shitstain anyway — It'd be execution, after all, even if I succeeded. “What did you do this time?”

He kept his fucking smile as he answered, “I didn't do anything aside from what I always do. I just advised the First Oligarch to show people the importance of having faith in the gods… and how foolish it is to reject them. And since your ownership was transferred to her... well, you'll see.”

“Enjoy your meal,” he said, walking away.

Fucking priests and their fucking gods. The gladiator school wasn't as willing to waste my life for nothing until I could make money for them. The oligarchs are another story, though.

I'll deal with it tomorrow. Nothing I can do about it, anyway. I damn well enjoyed the meal, regardless of the bastard's words.

The following morning, I heard the buzz from inside the arena. The other gladiators were probably awake too, but none talked.

Zeph was looking at me when I lifted my gaze. He was sitting in front of the door, probably waiting for the one who would take him out.

“Do you need something?” We had a few conversations this month, but not many, since I was occupied with my training and was too tired in the evenings to stay awake.

“No, I was just wondering… you don’t seem nervous.”

I waited for him to keep speaking, but after a few seconds of silence, I asked, “And why would I be?”

"You have a fight coming up, and you have just recovered. Considering that you also don’t have a Class, I would think your chances are quite low in the upcoming match. What makes you so confident?"

I just shrugged. “I got some food in my stomach and got some strength back in my body. Also, I never had a Class, so it's not something that bothers me.” I then looked him up and down. “You have a Class, but I bet that I could take two or three of you at the same time anyway.”

I was being modest by saying just three, but he scoffed. “I have been called a prodigy since I took up a sword, and I leveled my Swordsmanship Skill faster than anyone. I have also been trained by the best Swordsmen and Warriors alive, and I took all the necessary time to unlock the Skills needed to support my fighting abilities. There’s no way a slave, and one without a Class, like you, could compare.”

“Eh, ok genius, you’re a tough guy,” I said, not really caring. “But anyway, the fear will disappear after a few battles, and I had a lot of them. I’m also feeling quite happy that I can have a fight; it’s been too long since the last one.”

He huffed and went silent; I also wasn’t really in the mood to talk, so the conversation died off. Soon after, the same guard that brought him here came to pick him up. Just before they left, he turned to me. “Today you will understand your mistakes, heathen. Too bad you won’t be alive to appreciate the lesson.”

That was nice of him.

“Thanks for your concern, dear, but you're not the first one who’s told me that!” I shouted at his departing back. Some people really make me want to kill.

Well, who knows, maybe he'll be my opponent today. He's probably too high-level for me to kill, so that's a good way to ensure I lose the upcoming fight; if there's too much disparity in physical capability, technique will not matter much after all.

The first half was usually dedicated to the hunts, so I didn't expect to be called in the morning, but I still had to wait for most of the afternoon to be taken out — I was in the last fight judging by the time.

As I walked out of the cell, fear and excitement came in equal measure. I had lied before to Zeph; fear doesn't disappear, it's just not as crushing as it was before. It was my closest and oldest friend, always there to warn me of the danger ahead, helping me to stay alert and ready.

I walked down the tunnel like always, ready to face what may be my last fight.

----------------------------------------