Ab Non, 8th Day of Cleansing

It had been more than eight days since Kalen’s first match, just barely under a week.

In that time, Kalen had constantly revisited the fight in his mind, and had come to the conclusion that his win had come only by a hair’s breadth.

‘If I had hesitated or tripped up at any point during that fight, he would have countered me. I would have died right then, during my first match as an arena slave.’

The realization had at first come to Kalen with a lot of anger. He hadn’t thought he was prideful before, nor had he ever thought he would go on to accomplish great things. After all, his goal in life had used to be becoming a village guard to protect his family in Willowhearth.

Yet the possibility that he could have died in the sands of the arena, nameless and inconsequentially, lit some kind of fire in his head.

Whether it was out of ego or because he thought the situation was unjust, he didn’t know. But he didn’t want this place to claim him like it had his opponent.

That realization had been numbing, but it had proved the advantage of his training.

Yes, Kalen owed much of his victory to luck, and to the faults of his opponent.

But had his training not factored into that?

Were the reactions and strategies ironed into him by Old Marshall not in any way responsible for his feat in surviving?

No, they were, and Kalen was thankful for that which had allowed him to triumph.

‘For so long I silently ridiculed his styles of teaching. The constant lectures, the stupid rituals. But I’m alive today because of him.’

Kalen wished he could apologize, or better, thank his teacher for all he had done.

But he wasn’t here. No one from his village was.

Kalen buried his head into his knees.

‘How much longer will I stay in this place?’

CLACK CLACK

“Get up! Time for your next match!”

Kalen jumped off his stone bed, seeing the guard knock his saber’s hilt against the cell door to get his attention.

They were required to fight weekly, Kalen remembered.

As he hadn’t volunteered at any point in the last week while he had been combing through his thoughts, Kalen realized that today was one of the last opportunities until he was required to fight.

Kalen followed the guards like last time out of his cell, looking at his side briefly to confirm that the source of the old voice still wasn’t there.

‘Where did he go?’

It wasn’t long before the sight of the Match Hall greeted him again.

Unlike last week, it was visibly less crowded today. He thought grimly that the matches from last week had culled most of the slaves he had arrived with.

Kalen grabbed his slip and set it down on a table, looking over the options.

A premonition of dread came over him as he looked at the list.

Match Request Form

Gladiator #322 (Tier 3)

Circle Match Type Below:

Classic Duel - 3 Points

Open Brawl - 4 Point

Andabatas - 5 Points

Venatio - 6 Points

Points Required For Release: 99

Would you like to store your points for Release? [Y/N]

Points Required For Promotion to Tier 2: 50

Would You Like To Store Your Points For Promotion? [Y/N]

The match request form was much different from how it had been a week prior.

“The matches are different? Some are even paying more?”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“O’course, can’t expect em to keep shorting us aft’ most the newbies are gone! These the normal rates!”

Kalen looked to his side, seeing another gladiator who had responded to his open surprise. It was a man just a few years older than Kalen, probably not even into his twenties, who was missing most of his teeth.

“And they change the matches every week?”

The man shook his head.

“Not even! It’s ery day! Gotta keep it fresh fer the crowd, I s'pose. Gives a good advantage to us who like ta browse.”

Kalen nodded, returning to the form.

He was also able to see his required points for release had gone down by only one, as true to their word, the gate attendants had charged him for the healing grease they had applied to his head by halving his earned points.

‘They had said it was infected, but I don’t feel any different. Maybe they were wrong, after all?’

It wasn’t at the top of Kalen’s priorities anyway. There was no way he was going to waste the points to get it checked when it hadn’t affected him so far. For all he knew it was just another plot of the arena to get him to invest in a promotion instead of freedom.

Besides, it could wait until after he was out of here.

And that day couldn’t come any sooner.

Kalen circled an option on the slip before heading to the back of the Match Hall, where he swiftly passed it on the table before a clerk.

“You circled Open Brawl?”

Kalen sighed internally.

“Yes…”

“And you also chose to deposit your points for release, did…”

“Yes, yes. I’m aware of my choice.”

‘Just check the fucking slip.’

Kalen watched the clerk frown but penned it down for confirmation all the same.

“First left.”

“Mhmm.”

Kalen had long gathered that the clerks were only there to convince the gladiators to stay at the arena longer.

Checking slips? Why?

For organization, you said?

And since when did the arena care so much about the chaff?

Kalen shook his head as he entered a room full of armor. Multiple gladiators were already along the walls fitting on armor and making quiet small talk.

“Here for the Open Brawl?”

Kalen was stopped by a guard like usual. He nodded.

“Then just grab a suit of armor on the wall and pick a polearm. Attendants will instruct your team on the rest.”

Kalen stepped past him while looking around. None of the gladiators who had already arrived initiated conversation with him, though Kalen saw several glance in his direction.

Sure enough, it was the same type of room Kalen had passed by the first time before his duel. A room designated for putting on armor and testing weapons, as a few polearms hung from the racks along the walls.

Apparently, as Kalen had survived the first match, he was no longer considered as volatile in the eyes of the arena. Meaning that he now had the requisite trust of the arena to pick out his own armor and wield a weapon shortly before the match.

Though Kalen could see that the selection was still as shabby as his last set of equipment had been. The arena probably didn’t fear a slave much that both knew their place after their first match and only had access to poor equipment.

Though Kalen noticed there was only one attendant in the room this time as a precaution, so obviously chaff still weren’t trusted that much.

“Okay, everyone got their armor? Good. As you know from the slip, Open Brawls are objective matches, which means that while you will win if you eliminate all ten members of the other team, your primary goal is to hold onto the objective for a single minute.”

The nine gladiators around Kalen all nodded.

Everyone had suited up by now on their own, and were holding long polearms in their hands. Spears, halberds, pikes, and the like were the theme of the match today.

“What wasn’t included in the slip, is that the objective for this match is an inscribed item.”

Murmurs of shock reverberated through the room. Those that were unfamiliar with the term were quickly filled in. Except Kalen of course, who hadn’t yet spoken to any of the other gladiators.

“Yes, though normally you lot wouldn’t see one throughout the course of your entire lives, the arena has decided to lend out some of its assets for the sake of this week’s matches. So, be grateful! As this is an opportunity to handle something far beyond your own abilities.”

The attendant’s eyes narrowed as they finished explaining. From the way they looked at the gathered men in the room, it was clear they had their own opinions on the topic.

“So, you all got it?! Either kill the other team, or hold onto the objective for an entire minute. Simple enough, I should think.”

Everyone nodded as they started to discuss possible strategies for the fight ahead.

Listening in the background to the voices, Kalen tightened his grip around a spear as he prepared himself mentally.

Though it had only been a week, he didn’t know if he was ready for this.

CHICKCHICKCHICKCHICK

A moment later, the metal gate on the side of the room started to rise.

The gladiators instantly finished talking as they watched the gate, starting to check their own equipment and nod at each other.

It was clear a plan had formed. One that Kalen was only loosely aware of, not having been included in the discussion. He supposed that it was a social thing, as the other nine men in the room all seemed to be older than him, he realized he was the only one from the newest batch in the room.

‘Well, even if they won’t talk to me, we still have to get through this. I’ll just see how it goes, and jump in when I can. It’s clear that we have to avoid the other team getting the item above all else.’

Kalen planned in his head.

While an inscribed item being present in the match had at first seemed like a boon, everyone had quickly realized that the team on the other side of the gates was likely also getting the same explanation, and they were soon to enter a vicious battle for control over the objective.

Despite being called an open brawl, or an objective match, it really was a deathmatch between two groups of ten people.

Though Kalen couldn’t be sure before seeing it, from the context an inscribed item was most likely some kind of weapon.

So whoever got a hold of it first would wipe out the other team.