Chapter 38

The Gladiator Without Eyes.

To Weed, the young girl Britina was someone who saw the world for him.

She guided him through the arena, brought him food, and relayed essential information.

“Lord Helman bought Britina. Hahaha, paid a whole 20,000 crocks for her!”

“……”

“Britina, you should know what a big opportunity this is thanks to me. Do you even know how happy you’ll be living as a nobleman’s concubine? It’s a stroke of luck few ever get!”

In the gladiator’s waiting room, Weed was carving a sculpture, overhearing the managers and other gladiators chatting away.

“Everyone knows Lord Helman has a thing for little girls.”

“I heard he takes them as concubines, and once they turn 20, he sells them off to brothels.”

“A noble who knows no honor.”

“If one catches his fancy, the main wife ends up poisoned, coughing blood to death.”

Lord Helman had a notorious reputation, in many ways.

“Hic…”

Weed heard Britina’s quiet sobbing.

Maybe it was because he had relied on sound alone for five days.

Even amidst the noisy waiting room, her crying rang clearly in his ears.

“I didn’t expect things to get tangled like this.”

(If Britina leaves, the arena will provide another slave girl to assist you, Master.)

“Probably.”

(Even if Britina becomes a villainess, parting this way isn’t a bad thing.)

In the war-torn Delphiria Empire, orphaned children were common.

Even if she were replaced, it wouldn’t affect the battles he had to fight in the arena.

Earned 2,000 crocks in ransom, killed Duke Benhasmer as a bonus target…

Weed carved his sculpture while calculating in his mind.

Though it seemed best to let things proceed smoothly for his goal—

“Sir Gladiator, I’ll make sure to explain everything properly to the next girl who comes.”

“……”

“And if I win Lord Helman’s favor, I’ll ask him to pay your ransom.”

“……”

Even up until her departure, Britina was still worrying about him.

Weed, though blind, saw in his mind the image of his daughter.

What if she had become an orphan at a young age?

Wandering a cruel world, starving, searching for someone to rely on.

Having raised a daughter himself, he could easily empathize.

(Master, I advise you not to get involved.)

“I know.”

Later that afternoon, the matches at Kreta Arena were about to begin.

“In honor of His Imperial Majesty’s birthday, today is a day of celebration for all!”

The manager’s voice was unusually loud and rough.

“There will be 20 matches today, and big money’s riding on them! Fight with your life on the line!”

The arena earned money not only from audience tickets, but also from donations by nobles and gladiator training.

But the real money came from the gambling on match outcomes.

(They say on the Emperor’s birthday, nearly half the gladiators lose their lives due to how intense the battles get.)

(Match appearance fees triple on this day.)

“You can’t earn it if you don’t survive.”

(Correct.)

A brutal arena of survival and death.

Weed had been selected for the opening match.

“Pretty girl’s getting sold off to the Baron, huh?”

“If Lord Helman loves her, don’t forget us. Throw us some support or donations.”

“Always wanted a turn with her myself.”

Britina sobbed silently at the cruel words of the gladiators.

“Opening match starts now! Rosar, you’re up first!”

Weed walked to the arena holding Britina’s hand.

She had tried wiping away her tears, but her hand was still damp.

“Sir Gladiator, will I see you again?”

“Maybe.”

“Even if I become a noble’s concubine, I’ll survive. So please don’t die either. Not until you see the daughter you sculpted.”

He received a decent sword from the arena’s blacksmith.

Holding Britina’s hand, Weed stood at the center of the arena.

“Sir Gladiator, I have to go now.”

Right before parting, Weed raised his voice.

“I have a request for Lord Helman!”

Loud enough for all the spectators to hear.

(Master, I advise against this.)

He selectively ignored the AI’s advice.

“Today, to honor His Majesty’s birthday, we will hold the 100-Man Battle!”

100-Man Battle.

A signature Kreta Arena tournament where 100 gladiators enter.

Only one may survive.

The rest must die for the match to end.

And the lone survivor is granted a wish.

“If I survive the 100-Man Battle, may this girl be spared from Lord Helman?”

The moment Weed spoke, the noisy arena went silent.

While most viewed gladiators as trash or slaves, they were also public heroes.

Delphiria loved the strong, and nobles valued public favor.

Weed had just declared he would win and save Britina.

“Woooooooow!”

“He’s amazing!”

“I thought he was just blind, but he’s got guts!”

“He’s missing his eyes and arm, but he’s got something that matters!”

“Lord Helman, honor the gladiator’s request!”

“Now this is exciting! Fighting and dying alone is boring—this gives it spice!”

The crowd quickly caught on and roared in support.

Sitting in the noble’s box, Lord Helman was flustered.

Refusing such a brave proposal would brand him as petty and cowardly.

And nobles with shaky reputations were especially sensitive to such matters.

With magical assistance, Lord Helman responded:

“Rosar, you fear nothing! But I, in my mercy, grant your request. Survive the 100-Man Battle, and the girl is yours!”

“He just chose his own grave.”

“Doesn’t he know how dangerous the 100-Man Battle is?”

“They say the top gladiators from all over are gathering for the Emperor’s birthday.”

“Each arena sends their champions. He’ll die a meaningless death.”

Back in the waiting room, the other gladiators were buzzing.

The arena manager cursed furiously.

“Rosar. You blind fool, you’ve lost your mind!”

“……”

“I thought you could be the new face of Kreta Arena. And now you throw away your life for a slave girl?”

“……”

To outsiders, it might sound like he cared.

Just days ago, Weed was food for orcs.

“Anyway, you’re now in the 100-Man Battle. Make that 20,000 crocks worth it.”

Ding!

⚔️ Special Match of Kreta Arena ⚔️

100-Man Battle

Held to celebrate the Emperor’s birthday, 100 handpicked gladiators from across the Empire fight.

Battle continues until only one survives.

No surrender—only death or victory.

Do you wish to participate in this dangerous match?

Reward for the sole survivor: honor, power, and a unique personal epic.

Additional gifts provided by Kreta Arena.

Difficulty: Optional Scenario Battle

By choosing to speak up, the quest has been automatically triggered.

You can no longer cancel it.

“Sir Gladiator, you risked yourself because of me. You shouldn’t have…”

Britina kept crying.

Weed didn’t offer kind words.

“I’m not entering the 100-Man Battle because of you.”

“But you’re trying to save me…”

“That’s part of it. But I’m doing this for me, too.”

Blind and missing an arm, Weed didn’t feel satisfied just surviving.

If there was a chance to grow, he couldn’t miss it.

“Time to go all in.”

Until now, Weed hadn’t fully developed his combat skills.

In Hell difficulty, he had earned many traits and skills, and most enemies fell to strength and basic swordsmanship alone.

He had also secured rare techniques like Dark Rule and the Abyss Mirror.

Now, with extra Legend Points after sculpting a masterpiece, he chose to spend them.

“Another Sword.”

A secret sword art from Royal Road.

He knew it well from experience. In Roanoke, character growth was nearly limitless.

And as this skill leveled up, it changed dramatically.

(The number of floating swords increases, and they move faster.)

(They automatically attack and defend. Their area of effect expands.)

“How much exactly?”

(At master level, 100 swords fly within a 200-meter radius.)

(Their power scales with level and soul energy.)

“Isn’t that broken?”

(Some people think so. A few skills like ‘Another Sword’ break the standard balance.)

No user had mastered it yet, but some were already reaping huge rewards.

From powerful monster hunts to large-scale battles, it was extremely useful.

(Skill proficiency for sword secrets increases slowly. You’ll need Hero Points to raise it fast.)

“Still worth learning now.”

Rather than a forbidden skill with limited use, a practical skill like this was far better.

Hard to level—but immensely powerful when it did.

(To maximize your sword arts, I recommend acquiring mobility skills.)

“I’ll need them.”

(Also, get a few more sword techniques.)

In Roanoke, you could earn skills based on movement and behavior.

Hero-level skills were difficult to acquire, but getting useful short-term ones was doable.

“Britina.”

“Y-Yes, Sir Gladiator.”

She answered with a trembling voice.

“Take me to the combat training ground.”

Gladiator Combat Training Room, Arena

“What’s it like?”

“Pardon?”

“Describe it to me.”

“The floor’s dirt, a wide open area. There are wooden scarecrows here and there, and old gear left behind by dead gladiators.”

“Scarecrows, huh…”

Weed recalled his old memories from Royal Road.

Whacking scarecrows, grinding stats—those moments.

It was tedious, but now felt nostalgic.

“Back in my day, hitting scarecrows was the foundation.”

“Huh?”

“To get strong, you’ve got to hit scarecrows.”