The Gladiator Festival spans thirty days, featuring battles between ten elite gladiator troupes.

For the first twenty-three days, it’s a round-robin tournament. Each troupe selects five gladiators to compete, with battles held twice daily—one in the morning and one in the afternoon.

By the twenty-third day’s afternoon, the round-robin results determine the top two troupes. These troupes face off on the thirtieth day, where the best gladiator troupe and the ultimate gladiator are crowned.

The remaining troupes battle again from day twenty-five to day twenty-nine, giving them another opportunity to showcase their strength to the royal capital's spectators.

This grand event is the most significant festival in the royal capital, drawing massive crowds and making it the most lively time of the year.

The festival's kickoff day is always particularly spectacular.

The streets of the capital were overflowing with people, and I had to abandon my plans to go shopping with Emera.

Since the Sprex Gladiator Troupe was scheduled for their first match on the second day’s afternoon, I had hoped to enjoy some sightseeing in the capital the day before. Unfortunately, the overwhelming crowds drained my energy.

"Sorry, Emera…"

"N-no, it’s fine! Just being able to see the capital was enough for me!"

With that, our sightseeing came to an abrupt end.

On the second day, when I arrived at the waiting area, I found Sprex nervously bouncing his leg. The other four gladiators were sparring in pairs, preparing for the match.

“Why are you so calm?! You were nowhere to be found all day yesterday!”

“I went sightseeing…”

“What?! While we were busy analyzing our opponents, you were out having fun? You’ve got some nerve!”

“Calm down, Sprex. Overthinking will only make your body stiff. If you’ve trained properly, it’s best to take a day off before the real battle to clear your mind. That’s how I do things.”

“You? A rookie gladiator already preaching strategies?”

Sprex was visibly flustered, a mix of anger, disbelief, and exhaustion. Clearly, he had a lot riding on this festival.

If Sprex couldn’t stay composed, then as the main fighter, I had to keep things steady. I patted him on the shoulder with a reassuring grin.

"Relax, I’ve got this. We’re going to win."

“Where does that confidence even come from…?” Sprex muttered, slumping his shoulders.

You can’t go into a fight expecting to lose—that’s just foolish.

Our first opponents were the Gut Gladiator Troupe, another team making their debut in the Gladiator Festival.

However, unlike us, the Gut Gladiator Troupe had a storied history. They had been contenders for years and were seasoned veterans.

But the Sprex Gladiator Troupe wasn’t to be underestimated. These gladiators, brimming with talent, had honed their skills under my guidance.

I trusted them.

“Listen, Hatch. You may be small, but your grappling techniques are top-notch, and you’re agile enough to evade attacks without needing to block. Stay calm and dodge—your moment will come.”

“Y-yeah, got it, Matt!”

I smirked as Hatch gave a firm response.

“Good. Now go out there and win!”

I slapped Hatch on the back. He winced but managed a nervous laugh before heading to the arena.

Meanwhile, Sprex was fuming.

“Wasn’t it my turn for that pep talk?!”

Ignoring Sprex’s protests, I focused on sending Hatch to the battlefield.

The path to the arena was lined with ancient carvings, dimly lit, and led to a heavy wooden door.

The closer Hatch got to the stage, the more the atmosphere changed.

This wasn’t just any arena. The oppressive weight of history seemed to emanate from the walls.

Hatch, visibly shrinking under the pressure, clenched his fists tightly.

“Don’t let it get to you,” I said, clapping him on the back loudly. “Your opponent is just another human, another gladiator. You’re the one who’s going to win. Right, Hatch?”

“Y-yeah! I’ll do my best!”

With that, Hatch pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the arena.

I had been confident.

Our fighters had a wider arsenal of techniques compared to the Gut Gladiator Troupe. I believed we had the edge unless nerves got the better of us.

But contrary to expectations, we suffered four consecutive losses.

The once-bold gladiators now sat slumped in defeat, while Emera watched them with a concerned expression. Sprex, meanwhile, was red-faced and livid.

I surveyed the scene calmly before speaking.

“I’ll show you how it’s done.”

With those words, I headed toward the arena.

As I stepped into the arena, the roaring crowd filled my ears.

The stage was a vast expanse of hard-packed sand, surrounded by walls just below chest height, and beyond them, tiered spectator seating that stretched skyward.

The entire arena was packed to capacity, with even the lowest sections crowded with standing spectators.

The cheers of the audience shifted as my opponent appeared.

“Mayer! Mayer! Mayer!”

From the opposite side, Mayer—the star of the Gut Gladiator Troupe—emerged.

He was an imposing figure, wearing a helmet adorned with goat-like horns and wielding a massive bastard sword.

Mayer radiated an aura of pure intimidation.

The clash began with Mayer’s impossibly fast strike for such a heavy weapon, but I managed to block it with my sword.

Sparks flew, and the ear-piercing sound of metal on metal echoed through the arena.

We exchanged blows, each testing the other’s strength and skill. Mayer’s attacks were relentless, but I was able to deflect and counter, using my shield to absorb the force of his strikes.

Then came my opening. Feinting a full-force attack, I let Mayer knock my sword away and closed the distance. Before he could react, I grabbed his arm, twisted it, and threw him to the ground with a resounding thud.

Even after such a fall, Mayer stood back up, his resilience earning my respect.

But he had lost his sword, and I cast mine aside to meet him on equal footing.

We exchanged punches, a brutal, primal brawl that ended when I landed a powerful uppercut to Mayer’s jaw, sending him sprawling.

As I raised my fist in victory, the crowd erupted in deafening cheers.

Behind me, I sensed Mayer stirring. Turning, I saw him raise a hand and murmur:

“...I’ll defeat you on the final day.”

With those words, Mayer passed out.

I smiled, impressed by his toughness, and walked toward Emera, ready for what lay ahead.