It didn’t take long to figure out about the suspicious gladiators—just asking the spectators who came to the arena was enough.
I merely questioned each person heading toward the arena and managed to gather information: a group of rough-looking gladiators had walked away laughing from the arena.

A cluster of large-framed gladiators huddled together like a lump and entered a nearby livestock shed at a brisk pace.
Did they really think such conspicuous behavior wouldn’t attract attention?

If this was some sort of decoy...

Propelled by both anger and unease, I swung the shed’s door open without a shred of hesitation.
What met my eyes was Emera, half-naked with torn clothes, blood smearing her mouth and cheeks.

Her thin frame, though starting to regain some weight, was covered in numerous painful-looking bruises.
Around her stood brutish men with intimidating appearances, their faces twisting into leering grins as they turned their attention toward me.

“Y-Yamato... I-I’m so sorry...!”

As Emera spoke, tears cascaded down her face, her voice breaking. That sight—her tears, her pain—made my mind go blank with rage and guilt.

“You bastards!”

From the depths of my lungs erupted a furious roar, unlike anything I had ever produced before.

“Damn it! How’d he find this place, this punk?”
“Idiot! There are four of us here! Can’t you even count, fool?”
“Hey, unless you want to die, grovel on the ground and beg! Say, ‘Please return the girl,’ and maybe we’ll think about it!”

The men stood smugly, mocking me with their cruel smiles as they turned to face me.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I drove my knee into the face of the man pinning Emera down, without so much as a warning.

“Guh!”

With a spurt of blood, the man flew backward, his body slamming against the wall in an unnatural arc.

“Ahhh!”

I rose swiftly, slamming my elbow into the jaw of the next man and grabbing his neck to hurl him to the ground.

“Y-You bastard!”

The two remaining men lunged at me, shouting something incoherent. I dodged, lowering my stance and slipping behind one of them.
Leaping into the air, I brought my legs together and delivered a powerful flying kick.

The impact reverberated like thunder, nearly collapsing the shed as the two men crashed through the wall and rolled outside.

I turned to the man who had pinned Emera earlier. Still bleeding and leaning against the wall, he stared at me with wide eyes.

“I will never forgive any of you.”

When I said that, the man’s bloodied face twisted as he drew his sword with trembling hands.
Without hesitation, he swung at me, but I countered with a thrusting kick that drove deep into his chest, faster than he could react.

The force sent him flying, joining the other two outside, their bodies limp and motionless.

Turning back to Emera, who sat trembling on the ground, I knelt beside her.

“Are you okay?”

At my question, she burst into tears, looking up at me with quivering eyes.

“I-I’m sorry! I... you... bought me... and I…”

She held onto her torn, dirtied clothes with trembling hands, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it. As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”

I covered her with my fur-lined coat, lifting her into my arms. Clinging to my neck, she sobbed uncontrollably.
As I carried her out of the shed, I stepped on the unconscious man’s groin for good measure.
The other three seemed to have passed out as well.
Without glancing back, I headed straight toward the arena, carrying Emera in my arms.

The streets were crowded, and people stared at us—me with a tear-streaked Emera clinging tightly to me. I ignored them, focusing only on the arena ahead.

“...I’m sorry for being late, Emera. I made you endure something so terrifying. Are you hurt badly?”

At my words, she shook her head vigorously, still crying.

“What the hell happened!?”

Upon returning to the arena, Cradle shouted in shock upon spotting us.
Emera had cried herself to sleep on the way, so I quietly made my way deeper into the arena.

“...It was the Hanging Gladiator gang. They did this to Emera. I’ll have her treated first, then I’m going to take care of them myself.”

On the way, I explained briefly to Cradle. His brow furrowed deeply, and his voice grew cold.

“The Hanging Gladiator gang? They did this to her? And what happened to those bastards?”

“I’ve made sure they’ll never function as men again.”

“You idiot, you should’ve killed them.”

At my response, Cradle spoke with a murderous intent I’d never heard before.
When I looked at him, he averted his eyes, then quickly regained his composure, his usual demeanor returning.

“It’ll spark trouble between gladiator gangs if you kill them. But if I ever end up in the same match as them, I’ll crush them to bits.”

“Yeah.”

Responding curtly, I headed toward the medics.
The gladiator guild often dealt with injuries, so at least one skilled medic was always available. Currently, two were active—a veteran and a younger one learning the craft after losing a leg.

Entering a room in the guild’s quarters, I spotted the medics among members of our guild, the Sprex Gladiators.

“Please, Emera’s been hurt.”

My words caused a stir among the men.

“Show me!”

The elder medic, Uncle, barked as he called me over.
I gently laid Emera on the ground, and murmurs of anger erupted around us.

“Damn it, this is...!”
“She’s been beaten hard. Really hard.”

The gladiators’ voices were laced with fury, and the younger medic gritted his teeth audibly.

“Why did this happen to Emera!?”

Hearing that, guilt stabbed through me.

“It’s my fault… I took my eyes off her, even for just a moment…”

“You... Matt!”

The younger medic lunged for my throat, but Cradle intervened, gripping his arm tightly.

“Stop it. Matt’s always by Emera’s side. If he took his eyes off her, it was for a brief moment. The real issue is the bastards who hurt her.”

“Y-Yeah! Who the hell did this!?”

The room fell silent, everyone’s gaze fixed on Cradle as he spoke with sharp eyes.

“It was the Hanging Gladiator gang.”

At that, several men sprang to their feet.

“Let’s go!”
“Yeah, we’ll kill them all!”

As the men grew restless, I stayed silent, watching Emera’s treatment. Cradle held them back as Uncle spoke up.

“...She’ll be okay.”

“R-Really, Uncle?”

The group turned to him, tension evident in their eyes. Uncle sighed lightly.

“She’s lucky. Her head wasn’t seriously hurt, and her neck and limbs are fine. But a few ribs are broken, so she must rest and move as little as possible.”

“Thank God…”

Relief washed over everyone.
As tension eased, I sank to the ground, exhaustion seeping into my body.

But just as we began to relax, two men from the Hanging Gladiator gang entered the room.