The Sprex Gladiator Troupe, having discovered a new form of gladiator entertainment, enthusiastically set off for the next city.

"Only two more shows until the Gladiator Festival! Let’s bring our A-game!"

Following Sprex, who was more fired up than anyone, we proceeded with the performances.

Unlike the unusual Hanging Gladiator Troupe, our shows in other cities were successful without incident, and I managed to extend my winning streak.

Word of my name also began to spread, albeit slowly, through merchants and travelers.

Although, I was remembered under the nickname "Tyrant Matt."

After completing two more city performances, a week into our journey, we finally arrived at the royal capital.

As we approached, my jaw dropped in awe, unable to close it.

"Impressive, isn’t it?"

All I could do was nod in response to Sprex’s words.

What loomed before us were massive walls, with a few tall towers and a glimpse of what appeared to be a castle visible beyond them.

But it was the walls that stood out the most. Compared to the two-story buildings we’d seen in other cities, these walls seemed colossal.

The walls must have been at least 50 meters high and several kilometers wide.

The scale was on an entirely different level from other cities.

While staring up at the walls alongside Emera, Cradle shrugged and snorted.

"Hmph. Well, this is the royal capital of a major kingdom. It’s about what you’d expect."

"Hey now, don’t say it like that," Sprex chuckled at Cradle’s dismissive remark.

Though we each had different reactions, we continued onward to the city gates—massive gates that stood open but looked capable of being shut at a moment’s notice.

The gates, thick and imposing, made one wonder if they could indeed be closed in an emergency.

In front of the gates, a crowd had gathered—wagons heavily loaded with goods, merchants leading groups of slaves, and even other gladiator troupes.

"Ah! Trass!"

Sprex was quick to spot another gladiator troupe’s impresario and shouted out. A thin man with a bald crown raised a hand in acknowledgment, his brows furrowed.

"O-oh. Sprex? Fancy meeting you here."

"Fancy nothing, you idiot! A big-shot gladiator troupe like yours skipping shows to come to the royal capital? Don’t think you’ll make it to the Gladiator Festival!"

"S-sorry! Don’t get so mad, Sprex! I-I just couldn’t make it in time!"

"‘Couldn’t make it,’ huh? Why not just admit you were scared of the Hanging Troupe?"

Pressed by Sprex’s intensity, Trass gave a nervous laugh, raising both palms defensively.

"W-well, anyway... Did you bring in new recruits? Even as guests, we’re here for the festival. But honestly, do you think your troupe can participate?"

Trass’ cautious words made Sprex puff out his chest and cross his arms.

"Hah! Scared of the Hanging Troupe, you took the long way around to the capital, didn’t you? We beat them in every match! Almost no casualties, either! Well, a few rookies died, and some got injured, but still."

"Only three deaths? How did you manage that? Ah, you must’ve colluded with the lords to rake in betting money!"

"Idiot! We don’t do match-fixing—it’s all skill!"

As the two continued their bizarre exchange, we found ourselves at the gates.

Trass’ troupe passed through ahead of us, and Sprex called out as they left.

"Oh, and you might hear about it soon, but Hanging’s gladiators killed their own leader. Watch your back!"

Sprex’s bombshell caused Trass to pale and disappear into the crowd.

Watching this, Sprex let out a mischievous laugh.

"Serves you right, Trass. Enjoy the fear."

Sprex was likely just as afraid himself, though.

I sighed as I watched him and turned my gaze to the view of the royal capital beyond the gates.

The royal capital was both ancient and elegant. The main avenue was teeming with activity, and in the distance loomed a massive black castle.

This was Gong, the royal capital of the Kingdom of Noah.

Upon arriving in the capital, we stayed at an inn for the first time. Sprex’s troupe always stayed at a public lodging house on the first night in the capital, as part of tradition.

Though we shared a six-person room, it was a refreshing change from tents. I slept soundly, as did Emera, curled up under the same blanket.

The next day, we headed for the coliseum.

The coliseum shared the same general circular structure as others but differed significantly in design.

It had not just a second floor but a third, with seating several times larger than any other arena. Vertical openings in the walls allowed light to pour in regardless of wall height.

Though the stage wasn’t much larger, the coliseum itself dwarfed others, its grandeur surely stirring the hearts of gladiators.

Only top-tier troupes who participated in the Gladiator Festival could use this coliseum regularly; most could only enter as spectators.

To headline here was a gladiator’s ultimate dream. The festival’s final match was even said to determine the strongest gladiator in the world.

Our Sprex Troupe had never participated in the festival before, but with Cradle’s growing fame as a centerpiece, we were aiming for our first entry this year.

"Alright! Let’s go!"

Sprex waved his arm energetically and marched toward the coliseum entrance.

In the plaza before the arena, numerous gladiator troupes had gathered.

"Cradle, come with me. The rest of you, wait here."

With that, Sprex and Cradle disappeared into the entrance.

I could only hope we’d secure our spot in the festival.