The Avengers returned to the slave camp with mixed emotions. The high of their victory in the Colosseum was tempered by the reality of their situation. Despite their success, they remained slaves, and their future was uncertain. Tyler knew a wrong step and a noble could have them killed without so much as a tap on the wrist.

Lysander, the camp overseer, wasted no time. He summoned Tyler to his quarters, a stern look on his face. The room was dimly lit, with the only light coming from a small window high on the wall. Tyler stood before Lysander, his posture tense but his expression calm.

"So, Tyler," Lysander began, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know how many nobles have offered to buy your team? Of course, Lord Varon would never allow that, not after all the prestige you have showered on his house."

Tyler smiled and kept quiet, deciding not to try and answer a rhetorical question.

"The announcer has been quite vocal about how the music and overall presentation were his ideas. Quite the show, really."

Tyler nodded, keeping his face neutral. "Yes, sir. He did a great job with the production."

Lysander's eyes narrowed. "And you had nothing to do with it? Nothing at all?"

Tyler shrugged slightly. "I might have given him a few suggestions, but the execution was all his."

Lysander studied Tyler for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "You have a week until your next match. Another team has already sent out a challenge. Any more ideas for the show?"

Tyler took a deep breath. "I do, but if I'm going to keep providing these ideas, I want resources and better conditions for my team. We need proper food, more cores, and decent living quarters."

Lysander raised an eyebrow. "You think you can negotiate with me?"

Tyler met his gaze steadily. "I'm offering a way to sell out every seat in the Colosseum next week, and your patronage will ensure our victory. That's a pretty good deal, isn't it?"

Lysander tapped his fingers on the desk, considering. "It's already sold out. Better conditions and resources for your team. But I want results."

Tyler nodded. "Agreed. The next part of my plan relies on selling team merchandise. Use the cloud symbol from our outfits. It will create a sense of identity for the fans and boost our popularity. Other teams should adopt the same idea quickly, and rivalries will start to form between supporters. This will boost admission sales in the long term. You also need to recruit two or three former fighters who are well-spoken; they should have a panel discussion previewing the upcoming fight, simply giving insights to the crowd regarding each team’s members, strategies, and betting odds. This will go a long way towards building interest in the fights."

Lysander's lips curved into a faint smile. "You think like a businessman. Very well, I'll arrange it."

Tyler allowed himself a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir."

Lysander leaned forward, his eyes glinting. "One more thing. You and your team are expected at a banquet this evening. It seems you've attracted the attention of some nobles. You will be washed and cleaned up for the event. Don't embarrass me."

Tyler's heart sank at the thought of mingling with the nobles, but he nodded obediently. "Understood."

Lysander waved him away. "You're dismissed. Prepare your team."

Tyler left the room, his mind racing with thoughts of the upcoming week. He had bought them some time and better conditions, but the real challenge was yet to come.

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The Avengers were herded into a large bathhouse by the camp’s overseers. Rough hands scrubbed them down with coarse brushes, the water quickly turning murky with the grime of battle. Tyler winced as the brush scraped against his skin. "You know, I thought exfoliating was supposed to be relaxing, not a medieval torture method."

Once they were scrubbed clean, they were groomed meticulously. Barbers trimmed their hair and shaved their faces, ensuring they were polished and presentable. Elric, still nursing his wound, received special attention from the healers. They carefully removed the arrow from his leg and used their magic to heal the wound, advising him to stay off the leg for a day to ensure complete recovery.

After the grooming, they were dressed in magnificently fine Roman robes. The robes were black, adorned with red and white cloud symbols that Tyler recognized immediately. Lysander must have had these made in the last few hours, he thought, shaking his head in amazement. He’ll probably make us pay for them, too.

As they dressed, the group was buzzing with excitement and conversation.

Tyler turned to Elric, who was getting patched up by a healer. “Fenris almost turned you into a pincushion. I’m sorry I could only stop three of them, my friend.”

Elric gave a half-smile. “I owe you for that, Tyler. Did you see the look on Garius’s face when I elbowed him in the nose? Priceless.”

Marcus laughed. “Not as good as when I hilt-checked Brutus in the jaw. He didn’t see that coming.”

Despite the light-hearted boasting, the conversation turned more serious. “Did you notice how they kept moving in that tight formation?” Marcus said, adjusting his robe. “It was impossible to split them up at first.”

Darius nodded. “Yeah, they definitely knew what we were planning. Someone must have leaked our strategies.”

Elric, leaning against a pillar, added, “And they matched up perfectly against us in those one-on-one fights. It’s like they knew exactly what we were going to do.”

“We need to be more careful,” Tyler said. “Our strategies are being leaked, and we can’t afford that. We need to come up with new plans and keep them under wraps. But at least now we can use it against them.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, their expressions growing more focused.

As the team finished dressing, they admired each other's transformed appearances. The robes fit perfectly, accentuating their forms and giving them an air of dignity and power.

Elric, despite his injury, stood tall, his robe emphasizing his broad shoulders and strong build. Marcus and Darius, with their matching grins, looked every bit the part of formidable warriors. Tyler adjusted his robe, feeling a strange mix of pride and apprehension.

But it was Livia who stole the show. With her hair styled elegantly and subtle makeup highlighting her features, she looked stunning. The rough edges of their training and battles were gone, replaced by a refined beauty that took everyone's breath away.

“Livia,” Tyler said softly, “you look amazing.”

She blushed deeply, looking down at her feet. “Thanks, Tyler.”

However, she kept fidgeting with her robe, her eyes darting around nervously. Tyler noticed and approached her gently.

“Livia, you okay?” he asked.

She bit her lip and nodded. “I’m just... not used to this. The attention, the nobles... it’s a lot.”

Tyler put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hey, we’re in this together. We’ll look out for each other.”

The others murmured their agreement, their expressions a mix of admiration and surprise. None of them had realized just how beautiful Livia was until now.

The overseers entered the room, signalling that it was time to leave. The Avengers straightened up, preparing themselves for the banquet. They might be slaves, but tonight, they would stand before the nobles with their heads held high.

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The carriage pulled by massive lizards rumbled through the streets, their scales shimmering in the fading light of the setting sun. Inside the carriage, Tyler and the Avengers adjusted their fine robes, which added an air of elegance and dignity to their usual rugged demeanour. The rhythmic clinking of the lizards' claws on the cobblestones combined with the distant hum of the city created an atmosphere thick with anticipation.

As they neared the mansion, Tyler leaned out of the carriage window and caught sight of musicians gathered by the grand entrance. The group consisted of two cellists and several drummers, their instruments poised for performance. As the carriage rolled to a stop, the musicians began playing an instrumental version of "Thunderstruck." Tyler's eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned back inside.

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"I saw this exact thing on YouTube once," he whispered to the others. "It was a duo of cellists playing 'Thunderstruck' live. They've really gone all out for this."

The mansion before them was a sprawling estate of marble and gold, with towering columns and intricate carvings depicting mythological scenes adorning the facade. Guards in ornate Armor stood at attention, guiding the Avengers out of the carriage and towards the mansion's grand entrance. The powerful, haunting melody of the music followed them, echoing through the air.

As the Avengers stepped out of the carriage, they were greeted by a throng of nobles mingling outside the mansion. The nobles, dressed in their finest attire, clapped their hands and cheered, creating a path for the Avengers to walk through. The warm reception was both overwhelming and exhilarating.

"Welcome, Avengers!" a noblewoman called out, her voice filled with excitement. "Your performance in the arena was spectacular!"

Another noble, an older man with a richly embroidered robe, nodded in agreement. "Indeed, you brought great honour to the games."

Tyler and his team acknowledged the cheers with nods and smiles, feeling a surge of pride. Despite their status as slaves, tonight they were being treated with respect and admiration.

Inside, the grandeur of the estate was even more breathtaking. The floors were polished to a mirror-like finish, and massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the opulent surroundings. Tapestries depicting scenes of battle and victory adorned the walls, and the scent of exotic flowers filled the air, mingling with the aroma of sumptuous food being prepared in the kitchens.

As they moved through the grand hall, they passed statues of ancient heroes and gods, their marble forms so lifelike that it seemed they might step down from their pedestals at any moment. The hall led to a vast ballroom, where a throng of nobles and dignitaries awaited them. The room was alive with conversation and laughter, the clinking of glasses and the soft strains of music from a corner orchestra adding to the festive atmosphere.

The ballroom itself was a marvel of architecture, with high, vaulted ceilings painted with intricate frescoes of the gods and goddesses looking down benevolently upon the guests below. Tall windows draped with rich, velvety curtains allowed the last rays of the setting sun to stream in, casting a warm glow over the elegantly dressed crowd.

As they walked in, they were designated an area where they were to stand and interact with the crowd. A stern-looking woman approached them, her demeanour that of someone used to managing large events with a firm hand. She had dark hair pulled back into an intricate braid and wore a deep blue gown that spoke of both authority and elegance.

"Welcome," she said, her voice carrying the authority of someone used to being obeyed. "I am Octavia, your liaison for this evening. My job is to ensure you know the proper etiquette and introduce you to the key figures. Follow my lead, and you will do fine."

The Avengers nodded, their expressions serious. They knew the importance of making a good impression.

Octavia glanced around the room and began listing the names of the people they would meet. "First, there is Lord Maximian, one of the most influential nobles. Then, you will meet Lady Seraphina, known for her patronage of the arts. Finally, Duke Augustus, a key military figure."

As the musicians continued to play, Octavia led them to their designated area. Tyler couldn't help but admire the precision and skill of the performers. "This is surreal," he muttered to Elric. "It's like being at a rock concert but in ancient Rome."

Elric nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Just stay focused. We're here for a reason."

The nobles began to approach, their expressions a mix of curiosity and excitement. Octavia stepped forward, ready to introduce the Avengers and ensure they acted appropriately. The night was just beginning, and Tyler knew they had to make the most of this opportunity. They might be slaves, but tonight, they had a chance to stand as equals, if only for a few hours.

As the nobles mingled and chatted with the Avengers, Tyler noticed the intricate details of their attire—rich silks, embroidered with gold and silver threads, and adorned with jewels that sparkled in the candlelight. The air was filled with the scent of exotic perfumes and the gentle hum of conversations in multiple languages.

Lords and ladies moved gracefully around the room, their laughter and animated discussions creating a vibrant tapestry of sound. The tables were laden with delicacies from across the empire—roasted meats, fresh fruits, and intricate pastries that looked too beautiful to eat. Wine flowed freely from ornate decanters, filling goblets with rich, ruby-red liquid.

As they stood in their designated area, Octavia efficiently introduced them to various nobles. Lord Maximian, a tall man with a commanding presence, was the first to approach.

"Welcome, Avengers," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "Your performance in the arena was most impressive."

Tyler bowed slightly. "Thank you, my lord. We are honoured to be here."

Next was Lady Seraphina, a striking woman with an air of refined elegance. Her eyes sparkled with genuine interest as she spoke to them. "I must say, the strategy you employed was brilliant. It added such drama to the event."

Elric, despite his injury, managed a gracious nod. "Thank you, Lady Seraphina. We strive to bring our best to every match."

Then Lord Varon, a stout man with an air of arrogance, approached, his daughter Cassia trailing behind him. Tyler's heart skipped a beat as he recognized Varon, the very man he had insulted and who had condemned him to slavery. He quickly composed himself, keeping his expression neutral.

"Ah, here we have the famous Avengers," Varon said, a forced smile on his face. "I am Lord Varon, and this is my daughter, Cassia."

Cassia's eyes lit up with excitement as she looked at Tyler and his team. "It's such an honor to meet you all! Your entrance in the arena was amazing, and the battle... I've never seen anything like it!" She spoke quickly, her enthusiasm barely contained.

Tyler bowed slightly, acknowledging her praise. "Thank you, Lady Cassia. We are glad you enjoyed the performance."

Varon, oblivious to the history between them, continued, "Cassia has been talking about your team non-stop since the event. She insisted on meeting you."

Cassia blushed, looking a bit embarrassed. "Father, please," she said softly. Then she turned to Tyler, her eyes wide with curiosity. "How did you come up with the idea for that entrance? The music, the choreography—it was all so... captivating!"

Tyler smiled, choosing his words carefully. "We wanted to create something memorable, something that would set us apart. It was a team effort, and we're glad it resonated with the audience."

Cassia nodded eagerly. "It certainly did! I hope to see more of your performances in the future."

Varon, sensing an opportunity, said, "Perhaps you could give Cassia a tour of your training grounds sometime. She seems quite taken with your team."

Tyler exchanged a quick glance with his team before replying, "We would be honoured, Lord Varon. We are always happy to share our methods with those who appreciate the art of combat."

Varon nodded, satisfied. "Excellent. We shall arrange a visit soon. Until then, enjoy the banquet."

As Varon and Cassia moved on to greet other guests, Tyler let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Elric leaned in, whispering, "Looks like he had no idea who you were."

Tyler nodded, his mind racing with the implications of this new connection. "We'll have to be careful," he murmured. "But maybe we can use this to our advantage."

The night continued, filled with conversations and introductions, but the encounter with Varon and Cassia lingered in Tyler's mind. More nobles came and went until finally, they were introduced to Duke Augustus, a stern man with a military bearing. He scrutinized each of them with a keen eye. "I expect great things from you in the future. Your tactics in the arena were...unexpected. You know I offered to buy your entire team, but the pompous ass Varon wouldn’t sell you. Even after I offered him ten major mana cores."

Tyler met his gaze evenly. "We aim to keep our opponents on their toes, Duke Augustus. As for not being able to buy us, I am sure Lord Varon has his reasons."

When Duke Augustus left, Tyler turned to Elric. “Is ten major mana cores a lot?”

“I'd say you could buy a hundred slaves with that,” Elric said in resignation.

“Well, shit. Doesn’t look like we are ever buying our own freedom. Guess we will have to figure something else out.”

As the evening progressed, the atmosphere in the grand ballroom remained lively, with nobles engaged in animated conversations and enjoying the sumptuous feast. Tyler, ever observant, noticed Lord Varon's eyes lingering on Livia more than once. A sense of unease settled over him, and he knew he needed to gather information and prepare for any potential problems.

Taking a moment when the nobles were otherwise engaged, Tyler approached Octavia, ensuring their conversation remained casual and discreet.

"Octavia," Tyler began, "this banquet is quite an experience. I'm curious, though—how do the nobles typically interact with slaves at events like these? Are there any unspoken rules or things we should be aware of?"

Octavia raised an eyebrow but nodded, understanding the subtlety of his question. "It's important to remember that while slaves are here to serve and entertain, there are boundaries. For instance, it's generally frowned upon for nobles to take slaves to bed publicly. Discretion is key to maintaining one's reputation."

Tyler nodded, processing the information. "That makes sense. Thank you for the advice."

With this knowledge, Tyler returned to his team, sharing what he had learned. "We need to be prepared," he said. "Varon might try to keep Livia overnight. If that happens, we need a plan."

Later in the evening, as the festivities continued, Lord Varon, having had a bit too much to drink, approached Tyler and his team once again, his eyes lingering on Livia.

"Tyler," Varon began, his tone slightly slurred but still commanding, "your team has impressed me greatly tonight. I have a special request. I would like Livia to stay behind and keep me company overnight. She has caught my eye."

Tyler's heart raced, but he maintained his composure. He stepped forward, his voice calm and respectful. "Lord Varon, I'm honoured that you think so highly of our team," Tyler said diplomatically. "However, Livia is an integral part of our preparations for the upcoming matches. We cannot afford to have her away from the team, especially overnight."

Varon frowned, clearly not pleased with the refusal. "Surely, one night won't make a difference. I insist."

Tyler knew he had to take a stronger stance. Lowering his voice so only Varon could hear, he said, "Lord Varon, I must remind you that taking a slave to bed is a matter that should be handled with discretion. Publicly, it is frowned upon, and any indiscretion could harm your reputation severely. People talk, and rumours spread quickly."

Varon's eyes narrowed, but Tyler pressed on. "Furthermore, if anything were to happen to Livia while she is under your care, it would be a scandal that could ruin you. You have many rivals who would not hesitate to use such information against you."

Varon glared at Tyler, his expression a mix of anger and frustration. He knew Tyler was right, but he didn't like being challenged by a slave. "Are you threatening me, boy?" he hissed.

"Not at all, my lord," Tyler replied calmly. "I am merely advising caution. We all want to maintain the peace and avoid unnecessary complications."

Varon clenched his fists, clearly enraged but unable to openly retaliate in front of the other nobles. He forced a tight smile and stepped back. "Very well, Tyler. You make a compelling argument. Livia may return with your team tonight."

Tyler bowed slightly. "Thank you, Lord Varon. We appreciate your understanding."

As Varon was about to leave, he leaned in and whispered to Tyler, “I won’t forget this, boy,” and turned away. The look in Varon's eyes promised retribution. The team would have to be on guard, knowing that Varon would not let this slight go unpunished.

Tyler turned to his team after Varon left "I don’t think Varon is going to forget what happened tonight," he warned. Livia nodded, her face set with determination. "Thank you for standing up for me, Tyler."

The team agreed, their bond stronger than ever. They knew they would pay for challenging a noble, but they also knew they had each other's backs. Whatever Varon had in store for them, they would face it together.