In this world, there exist creatures called "monsters."

They possess high magical power and abilities beyond those of ordinary animals, though the specifics are unclear to me.

I had overheard stories from gladiators tasked with hunting beasts outside—they would occasionally slay goblins or slimes and sell their materials.

The highways connecting major cities, often referred to as the “Road to the Capital,” are well-maintained and frequently patrolled by knightly orders. As a result, encounters with monsters are rare on these roads.

Thus, when I first heard about goblins, I couldn’t quite grasp the danger they posed.

“You’re too complacent.”

Even when Cradle said this to me, I could only nod heavily in response.

“Sorry.”

Hearing my apology, Cradle sighed and held up his sword.

“A sword is our weapon. We don’t have sharp claws or fangs like animals. So we fight with tools like these. But monsters? They have their own weapons or something just as deadly.”

“Like a rhino’s horn or a crocodile’s teeth?”

“I don’t know what a rhino is, but yeah, something like that. Some monsters, like lizardmen, not only use their claws and fangs but can also wield swords and shields. If they bite you, it’s over.”

“You’re joking.”

I stared at Cradle in disbelief, but his expression didn’t waver.

“Do I look like I’m joking? Criminal slaves who don’t cooperate or gladiators tricked by shady promoters are often thrown into fights with monsters. Those matches usually turn into gruesome murder spectacles in underground arenas, away from public view.”

“Then why is such a match being held here in this city? Isn’t it unethical, even if I agreed to fight?”

Cradle scowled at me.

“It’s because you said you’d fight anything. That kind of bravado is usually reserved for washed-up gladiators or the unpopular ones trying to make a desperate comeback. Fighting monsters can earn a gladiator a lot of support from the crowd. If you win, you might regain your standing.”

As I listened, the reality of my situation started to sink in.

The underground matches he described were likely bloodbaths, with gladiators helplessly slaughtered by monsters for the audience’s twisted pleasure.

In contrast, my match was a legitimate, sanctioned fight for an audience seeking a proper spectacle.

“Well, that’s exciting.”

Hearing my comment, Cradle’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

Beside me, Emera tugged nervously at my sleeve, looking up at me with worried eyes.

“Monsters… they’re scary. Maybe we can ask Sprex to call it off?”

Emera’s voice quivered as she looked down.

“I can’t do that. A promise is a promise. I’d be lying if I didn’t at least fight once.”

Hearing my reply, Emera trembled, clutching my sleeve tightly.

“…It doesn’t matter what happens to me. You’ve given me food and a chance to mourn my brother. If someone must fight, I’ll do it.”

Her determined gaze met mine, her small hands trembling as she clenched her fists.

I smiled at her resolve and gently patted her head.

“Don’t worry. As long as you’re cheering for me, I’ll win.”

Tears welled up in Emera’s eyes as she threw her arms around me.

If this little girl is willing to stake everything to support me, then I’ll fight anything that comes my way.

She’s the best audience I could ever ask for.

As I smiled at the thought, Cradle let out an exasperated laugh.

“…Goblins attack in coordinated groups. Keep your guard up, and don’t let them surround you. Stay on the move.”

I nodded firmly at his advice.

“Leave it to me.”

The doors opened, letting in the light, and revealing the battlefield ahead.

The cheers from the audience sounded different than usual.

What they saw before them was not just another fight—it was a challenger daring to face monsters in combat. The mix of cheers and occasional laughter reflected their doubts about my chances.

As I stepped to the center of the arena, the opposite doors opened.

Emerging from the shadows were three goblins.

Standing about 140–150 centimeters tall, they had dark brown skin, disproportionately large heads, and unnervingly long arms. Their wide, round eyes glared, and sharp fangs jutted from their mouths.

The goblins wielded rusty shortswords and battered wooden shields, their bodies clad only in crude fur wraps.

With a shrill screech, they charged at me.

I raised my sword and shield, glaring at them. Two of them split off to flank me while the third rushed straight ahead.

Their movements were surprisingly coordinated.

Despite their grotesque appearance, their tactics suggested a degree of intelligence.

The lead goblin lunged at my torso with its sword.

I blocked with my shield and countered with a downward slash, driving my blade into its shield and knocking it to the ground.

Their strength wasn’t overwhelming, but as the first goblin fell, the other two closed in from both sides.

“Haah!”

I leaped forward, stepping on the fallen goblin to vault past its companions.

The goblins hesitated momentarily as they turned to face me again.

Instead of letting them regroup, I moved quickly to position them in a single line, forcing one to block the other’s view.

This was no longer a two-versus-one fight—it was two one-on-one fights in quick succession.

“Take this!”

I slashed at the closer goblin’s weapon, disrupting its stance before driving a powerful kick into its chest.

Lightweight as they were, the goblin was sent flying, crashing into its companion behind it. Both collapsed to the ground.

I maintained my guard but saw no movement from the goblins.

The audience erupted in cheers, calling my name among the roars of approval.

As I turned to leave the arena, I saw Cradle smirking in disbelief and Emera clapping so enthusiastically it looked almost painful.