The day after my main fight, I regretted walking around the town.
It seemed my name had spread significantly after yesterday’s match. Thanks to that food stall lady describing both my and Emera’s features, I quickly became the center of attention.

I appreciated the greetings, but Emera shrank away, and more importantly, it was difficult to walk around.
By the time we finished walking through the main street, Emera and I were each holding skewers of grilled meat and a red cape. I had no idea what was going on.
Well, the skewers were a gift from the food stall lady, and the cape was from a clothing store owner.

“That... that was incredible...”
“Yeah...”

With that brief exchange, Emera and I returned to the arena.
Later that evening, I tried on the cape in secret, only to be caught by Cradle, who burst into his usual laughter.
Personally, I thought it suited me, but apparently, Cradle found it hilarious.

Two days later, our performances in this town came to an end, and we moved on to the next.
Though my gladiator troupe members teased me about it, the cape turned out to be quite useful during our travels. However, it was too large for Emera, so she used it as a makeshift sleeping bag at night.
After about two weeks on the road, we arrived at the next town, which was located by the sea. We walked along the coast of the Dragate Sea, eventually reaching the bustling city.

The town, called Lucha, was the most vibrant one we’d visited so far.
Upon entering, we noticed the colorful buildings, a stark contrast to the previous town. Large and small sailboats dotted the sea, with numerous ships lining the port.
As we passed through the lively town and reached the arena on its outskirts, we found another gladiator troupe already gathered there.

While my troupe didn’t exactly exude refinement, this one had an even rougher vibe.
Sprex frowned as he saw them.

“Damn it, why are those Hanging Gladiator Troupe guys here...”

As Sprex muttered this, a man with slicked-back white hair and an eyepatch approached from the other side. He was intimidating and seemed to be around Sprex’s age—about fifty.
The man smiled broadly and spread his arms as he got closer.

“Yo, Sprex! Long time no see!”
“Oh, Hanging! Finally caught up, huh!”

As the man, apparently called Hanging, greeted him with a loud voice, Sprex plastered on a smile and responded in kind.
The two embraced briefly and shook hands.

“I thought it was going to be the Trass Gladiator Troupe today.”
“Yeah! Trass had something come up last minute, so they’ll be here in about a month!”
“Let me guess, he’s got a new mistress or something!”
“Wahaha!”

The two laughed heartily, arms around each other’s shoulders.
As I tilted my head in confusion, Cradle leaned in and whispered quietly.

“Hanging was a gladiator promoter in the same era as Sprex. Neither had the best reputations, but Hanging was notorious.”

“Notorious?”

When I asked, Cradle nodded gravely.
“He’s known for teaching his gladiators to kill their opponents whenever they have the chance. That’s the creed of the Hanging Gladiator Troupe.”

“And yet they still operate as a gladiator troupe?”

“Gladiators are ultimately disposable. Those brutal deathmatches can bring in a lot of money in some circles. But most gladiators aspire to compete in the King’s Gladiator Festival, which is why even brutal troupes like theirs put on public performances in ordinary towns.”

“Is performing in towns a requirement to enter the festival?”

Cradle blinked at me in surprise.
“Wait, you didn’t know? There are countless gladiator troupes, including smaller ones with just five members. Out of all of them, only one from each of the ten major cities gets recommended for the festival. Thanks to your performance in the previous town of Libre, we stood out quite a bit. We might even get recommended from Libre for the festival.”

Cradle looked at me with a slightly exasperated expression.
Apparently, it wasn’t just about having strong gladiators. To fight before the king, a troupe needed to deliver captivating performances and gain public support.

In each major city, several troupes are recommended, and the final selection is carefully reviewed to avoid overlaps at the festival in the royal capital.
Typically, gladiator troupes travel between cities monthly, and those recommended for the festival move to the capital the month before it starts.

Troupes not chosen for the festival spend the end of the year performing in other towns, ensuring they don’t go broke.
“That’s why the Hanging Gladiator Troupe has never been recommended,” Cradle concluded, ending the discussion.

Indeed, after hearing his story, I noticed the members of the Hanging Troupe had an intense, predatory glint in their eyes.

“Well... if nothing else, they’re very gladiator-like.”

After all, gladiators make a living by wielding swords in battle.
Reducing the number of opponents increases one’s chances of survival.
But when it comes to fighting as entertainment for spectators, it’s a different story.

If they kill promising gladiators who could attract a following, it’s a tragic waste.
If it were up to me, I’d change the mindset and rules of gladiatorial combat—not as a gladiator, but as a professional wrestler.

I’d aim to create more diverse and exciting battles, ensuring everyone survives. With some ingenuity, even battle royales could become a reality.

As I watched Sprex and Hanging laughing together, I sighed at my own lofty thoughts.
These weren’t things a mere gladiator should be concerned about.
I gently patted Emera’s head as she clung nervously to my clothing and gave her a reassuring smile.