Chapter 5

At the command of the old man with white hair, the gates of hell were opened, and the adrenaline-pumped gladiators surged forward like hungry wolves toward the trembling, unarmed slaves in the center of the arena. From a bird's-eye view, it was as if five thin streams of water were converging on a stagnant pool, which immediately began to boil.

There were 999 people, one-third of whom were women. Most of these women were sitting on the sand, crying, while only a few were struggling to stand, their trembling bodies stiff as they stared blankly at the approaching gladiators. It was unclear whether they were preparing to fight to the death or to beg for mercy.

As for the men, about 30% were shivering and huddling toward the center of the slave group, deeply afraid of being the first to die. Another 40% stood there with blank expressions, likely stunned by fear. The remaining 30% still had some fighting spirit, but they were like a scattered mob, each one acting on their own—some looking for opponents, others seeking an opportunity to escape. Who knew?

"Don't scatter, gather together, and follow me!"

Zhang Huen, who was leading a group of about twenty slaves, turned around and saw a tall, muscular slave rallying a group of similarly strong slaves and moving toward the south side of the arena. The tall slave had a resolute and stubborn look on his chiseled face.

"Test gladiator 779—

Actor: Sun Zhaojin

Status: Healthy (BUFF: None)

Subconscious: Freedom Leader (Beginner)

Attention: 0

Income: 0"

(Hmm, there might be something here.)

Zhang Huen turned and ran toward Sun Zhaojin. Under his leadership, the twenty-odd slaves who were originally heading north hesitated for a moment and then followed Sun Zhaojin. Soon, no fewer than two hundred slaves had gathered around Sun Zhaojin, forming a small group that charged toward the southern group of gladiators.

The two hundred naked slaves quickly clashed with the forty gladiators. However, as soon as they made contact, the slaves on both sides fled, much to the frustration of Sun Zhaojin, who was in the center of the group. This was a mess; even at this critical moment, some of the slaves still harbored侥幸心理 (侥幸心理 means侥幸 psychology, which can be translated as "侥幸 mentality" or "侥幸 thoughts," but in this context, it means "侥幸 thoughts" or "侥幸 mentality" which refers to the slaves' unrealistic hope of escaping without a fight).

The gladiators immediately split into two groups of ten to chase the fleeing slaves. The fleeing slaves' desperate actions inadvertently relieved some of the pressure on the main group, increasing the chances of survival for the remaining hundred or so slaves.

The strongest slaves at the front were quite cunning. Just as they were about to clash with the charging gladiators, they suddenly stopped and kicked up the yellow sand, momentarily blinding the gladiators at the front. Seizing the opportunity, Sun Zhaojin raised his arm and shouted:

"Charge! Seize their weapons!"

Dozens of slaves rushed forward, hoping to overwhelm the gladiators' front line with their brief tactical advantage.

"Thud!"

Iron swords pierced the chests of the eight slaves at the front, and the temporarily blinded gladiators, unafraid due to their armor, slashed the throats of the charging slaves with their swords. The eight slaves fell to the sand, their throats gushing blood, and the slaves at the front, who had hoped to turn the tide, scattered like birds and beasts.

"Roar!"

The audience on the southern stands erupted in cheers, the already intense atmosphere reaching a fever pitch. Shouts, jeers, and roars filled the air, and the spectators were in a frenzy. Some male spectators pulled out tools from their wide robes and waved them wildly at the arena, while others, with a strong desire for mating, sat on the wooden benches, exposing their women's white, large buttocks, and openly moved them.

"What a fine group of citizens!"

The old white man on the stands, feeling very pleased (though it's hard to say what he was pleased about), muttered to the person beside him, immediately drawing a chorus of flattery.

Sulie hovered in the air above the arena, looking down at the audience on the southern stands. Suddenly, the audience on the southern stands erupted in even louder cheers. A few citizens who had been waving their tools jumped over the railing and joined the crowd, raising their arms and shouting:

"Kill, kill, kill."

(What's happening?)

Sulie turned her gaze from the "excellent" citizens and looked back at the arena. A tall slave passed by a gladiator, slashing a sword and causing a spray of blood. The head of the gladiator, wearing a pig's head helmet, flew off and landed on the sand.

This was the third gladiator Zhang Huen had beheaded. He had taken a short sword from a gladiator during the chaos and, using his agile movements, had killed three gladiators, who were slow and poorly trained. These three gladiators had contributed 30% to his sword skill bar and 15% to his melee skill bar.

Speaking of the skill bars, they were similar to experience bars. In his eyes, each time he killed a gladiator, two semi-transparent yellow bars would appear, and he wondered if he would level up when the bars were full.

"Follow me, you fools!"

Zhang Huen dodged a spear, landed like a tiger, and kicked over a gladiator who was trying to sneak up on him. He shouted at the slaves behind him, who were still in shock and hesitation. The situation had become a chaotic mess, with slaves fleeing and gladiators chasing them everywhere.

Blood had clouded everyone's eyes. The gladiators had abandoned any semblance of formation and were now focused on hunting down the slaves. Blood, entrails, severed limbs, and heads fell onto the sand.

"Charge, follow him!"

Sun Zhaojin, true to his valuable beginner-level subconscious, led a dozen brave slaves to Zhang Huen's side, picking up weapons and joining him in surrounding three gladiators with spears.

"Rakre, save me!"

The gladiator with the spear shouted, but his cries were drowned out by the screams and cheers of the audience. Soon, the three gladiators, after killing four slaves, completed their mission and were beheaded by Zhang Huen.

Licking the blood from his short sword, the strong smell of blood made him feel inexplicably excited. His deliberate display of bloodlust made Sulie, standing beside him, shudder and raise his rating by one bronze star.

"Kill!"

This was a cry from the depths of a slave's soul. Zhang Huen charged alone at a gladiator who was hacking at three slaves with a shield and sword by the wall. Sun Zhaojin ordered his armed subordinates to help, while the remaining slaves defended against other gladiators and began to strip the gladiators of their half-armor, striving to survive as long as possible.

With the help of the other slaves, Zhang Huen quickly dispatched the shield and sword gladiator, but only one of the three slaves survived. They were now close to the soldiers by the arena wall, and Zhang Huen looked up at a soldier standing about five meters away, fully alert.

"Marco Na—

Major Character (Medica Arena Guard)

Status: Healthy (BUFF: None)

Difficulty: Moderate

Reward: Minor increase in strength

Effect: Causes the guard to join the fight."

Zhang Huen abandoned the idea of attacking the soldier. There were at least three hundred guards in the arena, and if they joined the fight, it would only lead to the quicker deaths of the slaves.

"Andepias, your gladiators seem to be having some trouble."

Romola and Andepias were the owners of the two largest gladiator training families in Medica and also competitors. Seeing Andepias' gladiators being killed by the slaves, Romola felt a sense of satisfaction and couldn't help but taunt him. Andepias' gladiators were always showmen, focusing on flashy techniques rather than combat awareness, but his silver tongue had won the hearts of many noblewomen in the territory, allowing him to rise to an equal position. What a despicable man, a eunuch who had risen through his tongue.

Andepias' already pale face turned even paler, like a demon from the depths of hell. Watching the armed slaves on the southern side continuously surround and kill isolated gladiators, loot their equipment, and repeat the process, he saw that at least twenty of his men had already fallen. In contrast, Romola's side was like tigers entering a sheepfold, with the cowardly Lakrasians being cut down and dismembered, and the screaming and crying Lakrasian women being ravaged by the sexually active gladiators. This made him feel ashamed in front of the magistrate, so he called his servant and said:

"Signal with the flag, tell that fool Rakre to stop playing around and take care of those barbaric Lakrasian scum."

The servant obeyed and soon a sharp whistle sounded from the southern stands. A man in a white robe stood on the railing and waved a black flag with a white double-headed snake embroidered on it, which seemed to come to life in the wind.

A gladiator wearing an eagle helmet chopped the head of a kneeling, begging slave in two, splattering his armor with red and white. Hearing the whistle, he looked back at the black flag and gestured to two gladiators who were impaling people on their spears. Moments later, seven gladiators with various weapons gathered around him and marched toward the group of twenty-four armed slaves led by Sun Zhaojin.