About a month had passed, and I had finally managed to organize the situation I found myself in.

I have come to realize two things:

• First, I was likely no longer on Earth.
• Second, I had become a slave known as a gladiator.

These were the most important things to understand.

I had also learned that gladiators were surprisingly popular, and watching gladiatorial combat was the most significant form of entertainment in this country.

As such, popular gladiators were promised exceptional treatment, and in some cases, they were even recruited into private knight orders by nobles.

For example, I heard that Cradle, one of the top 20 most popular gladiators, even owned his own home.

Apparently, I had fainted right in the middle of the road, and at first, I was mistaken for a thief and was almost cut down.

However, when the person who found me realized that I was genuinely unconscious, not faking it, they decided to load me into a carriage after seeing my physique and sold me to a slave trader.

I still remember the shock I felt upon learning that unconscious people could be sold so easily.

The slave trader who bought me sold me to a large gladiator group, an entertainment company that housed many gladiators, and I became a gladiator apprentice.

Most gladiators were prisoners of war, slaves, or criminals, so even someone like me, whose background was unknown, blended in without much issue.

Incidentally, Cradle was said to be a prisoner of war from a defeated nation, but he didn’t tell me much about it.

"Hey, Matt! Over here!"

Cradle called out, and I responded, following him.

As we walked along the stone-paved road, passing houses made of stone and timber, I noticed the two-story buildings and the frequent passage of carriages. This town must be quite large.

It seems the gladiator group travels around various cities, putting on shows. Our group does the same, moving from city to city.

But for me, this is only the second city I’ve been to.

Following Cradle, we arrived at a strange plaza where about 50 people, all armed, were gathered. The sight of so many armed and lightly armored people created an overwhelming atmosphere.

Though, the weapons were just wooden swords.

"Today’s opponent for you is Didete," Cradle said.

I looked up and saw a massive man over two meters tall standing there. The wooden sword he was holding was as big as an oar, matching his massive frame. His shaved head only made him look more intimidating.

"Hmph… So, you’re the guy named Yato? I heard Cradle took a liking to you, but you’re just a plain little shrimp," Didete spat as he approached, looking down on me.

"No, you’re just too big. I’m actually above average in height and weight," I replied, and Cradle burst out laughing, slapping my back.

"Ha ha ha! That’s true! Compared to Didete, everyone’s a shrimp. He’s just too huge!" Cradle laughed heartily.

As Cradle roared with laughter, Didete glared at me, his face turning red.

"Don’t get cocky, Yato… Cradle won’t be there to save you in the arena," Didete growled.

"I can’t even imagine Cradle helping me. If I were in danger, he’d probably just point and laugh."

"Ha ha ha! That sounds like something I’d do!" Cradle laughed again, this time even harder.

I shrugged, glancing at the laughing Cradle. When Cradle got like this, it was best to just let him be.

However, Didete, not knowing this, seemed to think he was being mocked and pointed his sword at me.

"Let’s get this over with. Don’t blame me if you die," he said.

"It’s a practice match, so let’s keep it non-lethal," I replied casually.

And there was Cradle, still laughing.

I was pretty sure Cradle was on the verge of becoming the first gladiator in history to die of laughter.

"Get ready!" shouted the master of ceremonies, who was also the leader of Didete’s gladiator group.

Being the leader, he held authority over us gladiators, who couldn’t defy the master, not even someone as popular as Cradle. No one could say no to the leader of a big gladiator group.

Because of this, even though it was just a practice match, I ended up facing Didete with real swords.

It was clear that the leader, who had a rivalry with our gladiator group, wanted to crush Cradle’s promising new recruit—me—and use this match to raise Didete’s reputation.

By the way, our group leader was currently off greeting a noble lord in town to arrange for our upcoming event.

In other words, this match was unauthorized.

"Come on, get ready!" Didete shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts as he raised his sword.

The sunlight glinted off the iron blade, and I let out a deep sigh, raising my own sword.

At least Didete hadn’t attacked right away, which suggested he was either a man of honor or simply underestimated me, as I hadn’t even debuted yet.

"Uuaaah!" Didete roared as he charged at me.

His massive frame hurtled toward me, swinging his large sword with the strength of his thick arms.

Was that a bastard sword? I marveled at how he could swing such a heavy sword with such force.

While thinking this, I parried his attack by striking my longsword against his, knocking it aside.

Didete looked surprised, but the master of ceremonies laughed mockingly and pointed at me.

"He doesn’t even know how to use a sword! Didete! Cut him down already!"

Hey, he really said "cut him down." That’s not okay.

Well, it’s true I’m not great with a sword, so I can’t complain about being mocked.

I looked at Didete, who had now become more cautious and adjusted his stance.

He was approaching slowly, sword ready, without any openings.

Hmm, that’s actually good for building tension.

Since we were both wielding swords, I figured a flashy clash would be more exciting.

With that thought, I swung my sword with full force toward Didete’s.

And both of our swords snapped in half.

"Huh?"

"What?"

I heard those voices from the master of ceremonies and Cradle as Didete and I stared at the broken pieces of our swords lying on the ground.

"…So, does this mean it’s a draw?" I asked.

Didete threw his broken sword hilt to the ground.

"Normally, we’d settle it with a fistfight… but I’ll admit defeat. You win," he said, turning his back to me.

The master of ceremonies, shocked, ran over to Didete.

As I stood there holding the broken sword, I looked at Cradle, who was pointing at the broken sword and laughing hysterically.

Where was the funny part in all this?