Despite losing the first match, my overwhelming victory over Mayer significantly boosted the morale of the Sprex Gladiator Troupe.

Our second match was held on the morning of the fourth day.

Our opponents were the Choke Gladiator Troupe, a regular participant in the festival. Known for its large roster of skilled gladiators and a few standout stars, the Choke Troupe was popular and well-established.

However, their size worked against them when facing the unconventional tactics of the Sprex Gladiator Troupe. Unlike the first match, four of us, including myself, secured victories, resulting in an overwhelming win.

Our third match took place on the afternoon of the sixth day.

This time, we faced the Northern Gladiator Troupe, a small but elite team of about thirty gladiators, the smallest group in this year’s tournament.

Despite their size, all five representatives were highly skilled, making them formidable opponents. A lucky break—one of their shields broke during the battle—allowed us to scrape by with three wins and two losses. Without that mishap, we likely would have lost two to three.

Unfortunately, one of our members sustained a serious arm injury during this match and was replaced by a seasoned 30-year-old veteran gladiator from our reserves.

Our fourth match was held on the morning of the eighth day, against the Ace Gladiator Troupe, a team notable for having a female gladiator among its representatives. This was only their second Gladiator Festival appearance.

While most of our fighters managed to win their matches, one young member fell prey to the charm of the female gladiator and was soundly defeated. Even so, we emerged victorious with four wins and one loss.

The fifth match on the afternoon of the tenth day marked the tournament's halfway point. Our opponents were the Sloyder Gladiator Troupe, a powerful team that had won the championship two years prior and was a favorite to win again this year.

Perhaps due to their reputation, Sprex started to lose his composure once more.

"Listen up, everyone!" Sprex shouted. "Don’t shrink back just because they’re stronger! Run them down and bash their smug faces in with your swords!"

Fired up by his words, the troupe members tightened their grips on their swords.

"Ease up," I interjected. "If you rely solely on swords, you’ll be at a disadvantage. Remember the grappling tactics we practiced—use your sword as a decoy to close in and wrestle them down."

One of the veterans looked at me with a sour expression.

"Matt, we’ve finally made it to the stage of our dreams as gladiators. We’ve fought all these years with our swords. Giving up our swords now feels like throwing away our pride."

Several others nodded in agreement.

I crossed my arms and turned to Sprex.

"If everyone agrees, that’s fine. But isn’t winning what really matters?"

Sprex, flustered, glanced around at the group.

"Well… yeah, of course, I want to win…"

"Hey, Sprex," I continued, "didn’t you once make a name for yourself as a gladiator? As a swordsman, how do you feel about this?"

"O-of course, I want to win with my sword. I’ve taken down seasoned gladiators in past tournaments with it, and it felt amazing…"

Hearing Sprex recount his past achievements, some of the gladiators’ eyes lit up with admiration.

"Let’s fight like true gladiators—with our swords held high!" someone shouted, prompting a rallying cry as the group raised their swords in unison.

Sprex looked at me, clearly unsure of what to do. I simply shook my head slightly.

This wasn’t my decision to make. Any dissatisfaction had to be addressed by Sprex, not me.

Even as a former slave, a gladiator who has wielded a sword for over a decade inevitably develops a deep sense of pride. Forcing them to suppress that pride could fracture the troupe.

If they were content just to have made it to the festival, their hunger for victory would vanish.

The first gladiator, full of spirit, charged recklessly at the former champions. He was completely overwhelmed, suffering a humiliating defeat and a severe injury that would take months to heal.

The second gladiator was similarly determined to win with his sword but met the same fate.

The third, however, was Hatch.

Due to his small stature, Hatch wasn’t particularly successful as a gladiator and struggled to gain popularity.

But in this tournament, his fortunes had shifted. Having learned wrestling techniques, he had already secured three wins.

As Hatch prepared to enter the arena, he glanced at me with a serious expression, bowed silently, and walked toward the stage.

"Don’t push yourself too hard, Hatch," I called out.

He gave me a wry smile and nodded.

"You’ve got this, Hatch!" Emera cheered, her voice filled with encouragement.

Hatch nodded firmly, stepping onto the stage.

As Hatch moved to the center of the stage, his opponent from the Sloyder Gladiator Troupe appeared—a towering man with an imposing presence.

"Not good," I muttered instinctively.

Hatch had always struggled against larger opponents. Their sheer size and power often left him on the defensive, and such matches had become a source of trauma for him.

Nevertheless, Hatch charged forward, sword in hand.

His opponent, a seasoned fighter, raised his shield defensively, meeting Hatch’s blade with practiced ease.

Hatch, undeterred, ducked under the man’s arm, trying to close the distance.

"Nice move!" Sprex exclaimed, leaning forward.

But I wasn’t so optimistic. Hatch was moving too quickly, giving his opponent little opportunity to overcommit or expose himself.

The veteran gladiator, staying calm, countered with a swift knee strike. Though it missed Hatch’s face, it hit his shoulder hard enough to lift him off the ground.

Hatch barely managed to block the follow-up attack with his shield, but the sheer force sent him staggering back.

"Stay calm! Make him lose his patience!" I shouted.

Hatch nodded, his breathing heavy, and charged again.

But it was clear he was losing focus. His movements lacked the precision and strategy he typically employed, and his opponent soon caught on.

As Hatch attempted to grapple the man’s arm, the veteran seized him and slammed him to the ground.

The audience gasped as the match ended with Hatch lying unconscious.

We quickly retrieved him from the stage and returned to the waiting area.

This marked our third loss and our second defeat in the tournament.