Sprex's low voice reached my ears, and I tore my gaze away from Emera to meet his stern face.
As our eyes locked, Sprex glared at me with a grim expression.
“I heard from Hanging... Apparently, you seriously injured four gladiators from the Hanging Gladiator Guild. That true?”
At Sprex’s words, all the gladiators in the hall simultaneously turned their attention to Hanging. Sensing the stares, Hanging fiddled with his eyepatch and covered the corner of his smiling mouth with a hand.
“Hey, hold on. This is a setup, Captain,” one of the gladiators protested, trying to appeal to Sprex. But Sprex furrowed his brow and spoke sharply.
“You did it, didn’t you? You all know the rules. Private fights outside official matches are strictly forbidden. You understand that, right? Break that rule, and you can’t participate in the gladiator festival! Matt! Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t know!”
Sprex shouted angrily as he strode toward me, his expression harsh.
His steps faltered when he noticed Emera lying on the ground.
I stood before him, blocking his path, and looked down into his eyes before speaking.
“Those gladiators from the Hanging Guild ganged up on Emera and left her badly injured. Are you planning to ignore that?”
Before Sprex could answer, Hanging opened his mouth with a sneer.
“Oh? And where’s your proof of that? More likely, you just got carried away with discipline. Besides, even if some servant girl got beaten to death, that’s nothing compared to the value of our top fighters, don’t you think?”
As Hanging sneered, baring his teeth, Sprex turned to glare at him.
“If you laid hands on Emera, that changes things,” Sprex said, his voice cold.
At that, Hanging flashed a nasty grin and glared back.
“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re sweet on that kid, too? Changed your tastes, have you, Sprex? But even if your little pet got roughed up, it doesn’t change the facts, does it?”
Hanging mocked, but Sprex pointed at Emera and shot back, his glare unwavering.
“Emera’s a gladiator-in-training. If I make that public, your guild’s participation in the festival is over.”
“Ha! Don’t kid yourself. There’s no way that little brat is a gladiator-in-training,” Hanging retorted.
The other gladiators in the hall murmured in agreement with Sprex, their voices growing louder. Hearing their assertions, Hanging scowled, his gaze sweeping the room.
“Either way, it doesn’t matter,” he said, voice dropping. “One trainee doesn’t compare to four of our gladiators, does it? And let’s not forget—attacking them from behind is a serious issue.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Attacked from behind? Is that what they claimed?”
When I questioned him, Hanging snorted and glared at me.
“You intimidate them? Too bad for you—they don’t back down from a fight. Next match, you better watch your back.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“So, they couldn’t admit they lost in a fair fight, huh?”
Hanging’s eyes widened as he stared at me.
“Well, isn’t that something? Are you actually claiming you took down all four of them head-on? If you’re so confident, let’s make it official—a one-against-four match. That’ll pack the stands! It’ll be a goldmine of a show! Of course, one of you won’t be walking out alive.”
Sprex clicked his tongue and stepped forward.
“Hey, hold it! Hand-to-hand, maybe. But with swords? A four-against-one is madness. And whether they’re gladiators or trainees, this is a private brawl between guild members. Making it public screws us both over. You know that, right?”
Sprex’s words made Hanging scowl. With a huff, he turned his back on us.
“Say what you want. Even if this is swept under the rug, I won’t forget. You’ll regret this.”
With that, Hanging stormed out of the hall.
Sprex watched him leave, then turned to me, cursing under his breath.
“Damn it! Things just got way more complicated... If it’s come to this, Hanging won’t care about the consequences. He’ll rig every match to kill us. Matt! Emera’s alive, right?”
“Yeah. Beaten badly—broken bones and all—but nothing that’ll leave lasting damage.”
Hearing this, Sprex glanced at the gladiators around him.
“This means war. The only way to survive is to win. Lose even once, and they’ll make it look like an accident. Quit halfway, and no one in the neighboring towns will take us seriously again. So, we hold out for the month and crush them every single day!”
Sprex’s declaration made Cradle, one of the senior gladiators, frown and lower his head.
“Matt and I can win, but the others? It’s hit or miss. If one loss means death, we have to rethink who fights and how,” Cradle muttered.
At his words, most of the gladiators hung their heads, knowing full well the Hanging Guild wasn’t weak. Few had the confidence to win for sure.
Sitting beside Emera, I gently wiped the dirt from her bruised face.
Then, a younger gladiator spoke up.
“Matt! Teach me that weird move of yours!”
I looked up to find several pairs of eyes on me.
“That unorthodox style of yours could throw them off before they figure it out!”
Encouraged by the suggestion, more gladiators began nodding and voicing agreement.
Though skeptical of what could be achieved in a day or two, I nodded.
“Victory’s not guaranteed, but I’ll teach you what I can.”
Cheers erupted from the younger gladiators.
“For Emera! Let’s destroy the Hanging Guild and put them out of business!”
“Yeah!”
The hall filled with their energetic shouts. Sprex, raising both hands in exasperation, called out over the din.
“Fine, but no killing! Got it?”
Whether they heard him or not, the gladiators exchanged fists and rallied each other with roaring voices.
I didn’t think one technique would change everything, but I’d do whatever it took.
I wouldn’t let these young fighters fall to the Hanging Guild.
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