Chapter 59

Rifragon (3)

A small hiccup echoed.

It came from the knights and soldiers who were lying flat beside me.

The attendant next to the Tyrant bowed his head to me in shock at the Tyrant's words.

Seeing this, Ashel hesitated for a moment before bowing to the Tyrant.

I glanced at her and opened my mouth.

"Just a bit of business."

"Is that so? If you were going to visit the capital, you should have at least let me know. We would have welcomed you with a grand reception."

The guy spoke in a familiar tone as if addressing an old friend.

Fortunately, he didn’t ask in detail about the purpose of my visit.

The Tyrant smiled and shifted his gaze to the knights and soldiers on the side.

"By the way, it looked like there was some kind of scuffle... What’s going on here?"

Their bodies trembled.

A knight who had turned to face me with a start bowed his head to the ground again. Then, in a voice trembling with fear, he stammered.

"M, my lord, I have committed a grave sin. In my ignorance, I failed to recognize your greatness. Please, have mercy..."

I stared down at him.

At that moment, the Tyrant burst into laughter.

He narrowed his eyes and smiled down at them.

"Yeah, yeah, I see. When I saw some bugs brandishing weapons at the Seventh Prince, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me."

Rip!

A gruesome tearing sound, and the knight's body split into several pieces.

Next, the soldiers lying behind him were also torn apart, their bodies brutally shredded.

Scarlet blood splattered, and pieces of corpses rolled on the ground. Ashel took a small, sharp breath at the scene.

"Seventh Prince, on my behalf, I apologize. We have greatly offended such a distinguished guest."

With a gesture as if swatting away bugs, the Tyrant turned the six of them into shredded meat.

I sighed inwardly as I watched the guy casually retract his hand.

'What a lunatic...'

I knew he was a madman, but seeing it with my own eyes, he was truly a complete psychopath.

A tragedy that unfolded in an instant on one side of the street.

But there was not a single scream from the surroundings. Some of the pedestrians lying down had their mouths clamped shut, barely breathing.

It seemed everyone knew that even the slightest sound could result in the same fate as the corpses scattered on the ground.

"U, uu..."

Then a small sound came from one side.

It was a child who couldn't hold back a sob.

The woman who appeared to be the child's mother turned pale. She clamped the child's small mouth and hugged him tightly, pleading in a desperate voice.

"Please, spare us. Please, spare us. I beg you..."

...It was a scene too difficult to watch.

I caught the Tyrant's attention as he turned his gaze to her with a smile.

"Consider the apology accepted, and I have a favor to ask, Sixth Prince."

The guy, who had turned his gaze back to me, tilted his head.

"A favor? What kind?"

"I want to take one of the slaves from the prison."

Ah... I didn't really want to reveal my purpose to this guy.

But in my haste to find something to divert his attention, this came out.

In any case, now that it's come to this, I should just ask him and get out of here quickly. It's a small request; he should agree.

The guy asked with an interested look.

"So, you came here to save a slave? Who are you looking for, and why?"

It's not good for him to take a deep interest in this.

I ignored his question and asked, feigning indifference.

"Will you agree?"

The guy, who had been staring at me for a moment, soon chuckled and nodded.

"Of course, who's asking? Take as many slaves as you want. But in return, I have one favor to ask."

What?

The guy looked at the arena over my shoulder and grinned.

"Actually, a match is in progress right now. How about taking some time to watch it with me? What do you think? Is that okay?"

"..."

I frowned silently.

What the hell is this all of a sudden?

***

The Tyrant's arrival seemed sudden, as high-ranking officials in Actipol rushed to greet him.

A huge circular arena, the size of a modern soccer field.

The stands were packed with people, as the sounds from outside suggested.

I sat in a grand chair, fit for an emperor, at the highest point of the arena, looking down.

The Tyrant, sitting right next to me, rested his chin on the armrest, grinning widely.

'Tsk.'

I clicked my tongue inwardly.

Somehow, I ended up in a situation where I had to watch the match with this guy for a while.

Was he trying to understand me, build a relationship, or just being capricious?

To avoid any conflict and just take the slave, I reluctantly accepted, but it was a really annoying and uncomfortable position.

"Are you not bored, Seventh Prince? How about having a drink while we watch?"

Drinks, my ass.

I held back my urge to curse and replied curtly.

"I don't need it."

"Heh heh, alright. The match is about to resume, so let's enjoy it."

The guy hummed a tune and was eating something brought by his subordinates.

A golden cup filled with red cubes that looked like rock candy.

When I glanced at it, the guy picked up another cube, put it in his mouth, and chewed it, saying,

"Oh, this? It's a snack made from blood. Fresh blood is good, but blood that has been aged and solidified has a special flavor too."

...Disgusting.

The Tyrant, as the worst vampire, was a creature who never stopped craving blood.

In the game, it was said that hundreds of lives were sacrificed in Mahaea every year just for his meals.

Waaah!

I turned my gaze forward again.

The crowd's cheers grew louder as the match was about to start.

The iron gates at the end of the arena opened with a loud noise, and two slave gladiators walked out.

One was a human man armed with a sword and shield, and the other was a beastman carrying a massive greatsword as tall as himself.

- The monster rookie, Og, who has been on an overwhelming winning streak for 10 matches! And his opponent is the gatekeeper of the Third Rank, Gateri!

With the announcer's voice echoing throughout the arena, the duel began immediately.

As soon as the match started, the beastman roared and charged.

The human man dodged to the side and deftly deflected the attack with his shield.

For a while, a fierce battle ensued, but I could easily tell which side had a higher chance of winning.

【Lv. 26】

【Lv. 23】

Because the human with the sword and shield had a higher level.

The result came as expected.

After skillfully defending against the relentless attacks, he saw an opening and slashed the beastman's side.

The beastman, who had his arm and leg cut off in quick succession, fell to his knees.

In Actipol's gladiatorial matches, a match only ends when one of the participants is dead.

So, to end the match, the man had to kill the beastman.

However, instead of ending the match immediately, he approached the beastman with a wicked smile.

He then drew a dagger from his waist and thrust it into the beastman's eyes.

"......Aaaah!"

The beastman, with his eyes gouged out, rolled on the ground, bleeding. The crowd cheered.

The man waved to the stands and leisurely circled the beastman.

The beastman, feeling around, picked up his dropped weapon and swung it wildly with a desperate cry.

But with no sight, his attacks couldn't possibly hit. The crowd burst into laughter at his ridiculous appearance.

After thoroughly toying with the beastman, the man finally beheaded him when the crowd's excitement began to wane.

I watched the entire scene with a blank expression, though inwardly I was frowning.

'What a mess, really...'

Actipol's gladiatorial matches.

I knew from the game that the matches were like this.

The matches only ended when one of the participants was dead, and there were no rules. Torture or anything else was allowed.

Therefore, many slaves tried to kill their opponents as cruelly and provocatively as possible to provide a higher performance for the audience, which would increase their value.

Slaves of a certain rank in Actipol were not confined to the prison but had some freedom and could accumulate wealth.

Thus, they were not only fighting for survival but also for wealth and freedom.

The subsequent matches included various types, not just one-on-one duels.

There were team battles where one side fought until all were dead, and matches where captured monsters were released to engage in fierce battles.

In the team battles, the remaining one was chased and brutally killed by the others.

In the matches against monsters, a giant tiger, several times larger than the slaves, appeared, and all the slaves fighting it were killed, with none surviving.

Watching these series of matches, I felt nothing but disgust.

How could anyone enjoy this?

How could people be so enthusiastic about watching each other kill and die? I couldn't understand it.

Looking at the Tyrant sitting next to me, he was looking down at the arena with a bored expression.

I found it a bit ridiculous. If he was going to be this bored, why did he drag me in to watch the matches?

- Now, the next match is the highly anticipated Fifth Rank match!

Hearing the announcer's voice, I recalled the gladiatorial ranks in Actipol.

From the lowest First Rank to the Fifth Rank, and the highest is the Champion.

So, the Fifth Rank match was the strongest match in Actipol, excluding the Champion match.

- First, the gladiator who defeated the gatekeeper Rutton and recently promoted to the Fifth Rank, Iron Fist Pol!

With much louder cheers than the previous matches, a man walked into the arena, wielding a massive mace with a ball as big as his head.

- And his opponent is the gladiator who has survived for over half a year in the Fifth Rank! The de facto strongest gladiator, besides the Champion, Togui Riff!

Then, from the opposite iron gate, a short-haired woman with a regular sword appeared.

I widened my eyes when I recognized her face.

Because it was a familiar face.

It was the woman I had met in the alley, who had chased away the soldiers.

"Hmm."

At that moment, the Tyrant, who had been expressionless, suddenly smiled and laughed.

The audience in the stands were excited, shouting the names of the two gladiators.

'...Riff?'

I tilted my head and stared down at her.