The crowd gathered in the arena clutched thin, leather betting tickets tightly as they watched the stage.

On that stage, a female gladiator with flowing golden hair wielded her sword. Her beauty, with its luminous golden locks and pale, radiant skin, seemed out of place in the violent arena. She wore a simple helmet that covered half her head and lightweight armor that offered only minimal protection for her torso, shoulders, arms, and legs.

The petite gladiator moved with lightning speed, her taut body a blur, confusing her opponent.

With swift swordplay, she feinted, prompting her opponent to stop and guard, then quickly circled behind him and leapt into the air.

Midair, she twisted her body horizontally and delivered a powerful kick aimed at her opponent.

Her iron-plated shin struck the vulnerable spot between her opponent’s neck and the back of his helmet, sending a resounding shockwave through the arena. The large man in heavy armor collapsed forward with a crash as the woman landed gracefully.

The crowd erupted in cheers as she raised a hand, shaking the arena with their roaring approval. She basked in the fervent applause before confidently striding off the stage.

In the dim corridor behind the bright arena, a muscular man stood smiling.

"Good work, Emera. Another flawless victory," he said.

The female gladiator removed her helmet, revealing a radiant smile on her delicate face.

"That makes it sixty wins in a row! Only forty more to fulfill our promise, Yamato!"

When Emera spoke, Yamato scratched his head and gave her a wry smile.

"To think you'd get this strong… But maybe you should reconsider that promise. Just the other day, some noble’s second son came proposing marriage, didn’t he?"

At his words, Emera puffed out her cheeks and glared at him.

It had been a year since Emera had debuted as a gladiator. Her record of flawless victories had earned her various titles, such as “The War Goddess,” “The Golden Blade,” and “The Daughter of the Gods.” But now, she was fuming like a child as she waved her arms at Yamato.

"A promise is a promise! Who cares about some noble’s proposal?"

As she yelled, a man dressed in black with slicked-back golden hair appeared behind Yamato.

"A promise is a promise, Yamato. What’s the harm? She’s turned out stunningly beautiful, hasn’t she?"

At this, Emera’s face lit up with a dazzling smile, and she nodded enthusiastically.

"Exactly, Cradle! See? A promise is a promise, Yamato!"

Cradle and Emera both pressed him, and Yamato shrugged, sighing deeply.

"I really don’t know what you see in an old guy like me…"

"Yamato, you said you were twenty back then, right? Now you're twenty-five, and I’m fifteen. See? It’s not that big of a difference!"

"It’s a massive difference. And I said I was about twenty. I could be forty for all you know."

"Why would you lie about that?!"

"Why wouldn’t I?!"

Emera and Cradle shouted in unison, exasperated by Yamato’s deflection.

At fourteen, Emera had pressed Yamato into promising marriage if she achieved a hundred consecutive wins. Although he had reluctantly agreed, neither he nor Cradle had anticipated her extraordinary growth.

Now, Yamato found himself edging closer to an impending wedding he had never taken seriously.

As the trio bickered, they left the arena, stepping into a bustling square outside. A group of young workers called out to Yamato.

"Boss! The setup’s ready! Hurry up!"

Quickly, Yamato made his way to the square, where a raised stage had been constructed. Four tall wooden posts framed the platform, with thick ropes strung between them.

It was a ring, standing about a meter high.

A burly man was testing the ropes, his massive muscles rippling as he pulled.

"How’s it looking, Pile?" Yamato asked.

"Nothing beats ogre-hide or great ape leather! The tension’s perfect!" Pile grinned, tugging the ropes with satisfaction.

As Pile continued his rope checks, Yamato surveyed the crowd. The square was packed with people leaving the arena and those who had come specifically to see the matches in the ring.

"Alright," Yamato directed the workers. "Anyone with a betting ticket, let them in. Those without one, send them to buy tickets."

The workers responded promptly, splitting up to manage the crowd.

As night fell, torches illuminated the ring and the surrounding square. A pathway flanked by more torches led to the ring, where the anticipation of the audience reached a fever pitch.

Suddenly, a deep, resonant drumbeat broke the silence.

The sound elicited cheers and boos in equal measure from the crowd.

A young gladiator carrying a torch raised his sword as he marched along the pathway, followed by Cradle, draped in a black cloak.

Half cheered and half jeered as Cradle climbed into the ring and shrugged off his cloak. The slave brand on his chest and back drew whistles and shouts.

He taunted the crowd, climbing the ropes to pose as the drums sounded again. This time, the rhythm was lively and energetic.

From the opposite pathway, a young man in a red cape and a plumed hat dashed toward the ring.

To thunderous applause, he leapt into the ring, tossing his hat high into the air as he shed his cape.

Cradle scowled in distaste at the boyish hero.

The fight between the villainous Cradle and the fresh-faced youth captivated the audience.

In the end, the young man triumphed, sending Cradle tumbling out of the ring.

As the victor raised his hands in celebration, a bell tolled.

The chime echoed throughout the capital, silencing the crowd.

Most of the torches were extinguished, leaving only the ring illuminated.

A second chime sounded, and torches flared to life at the end of one pathway. Backlit by the flames, a massive figure emerged.

The giant, clad in a black trench coat, loomed as he approached.

The youth in the ring froze in terror, and some in the crowd screamed before recognizing the figure as a famous retired gladiator.

Watching from a distance, Yamato nodded in satisfaction as Emera approached, carrying a wooden bowl of steaming soup.

"You never run out of ideas, do you, Yamato?" she asked.

Accepting the bowl, Yamato smiled wryly.

"Not all mine, to be honest. Cradle’s role as the disgraced would-be assassin, Hatch’s acrobatics, and then the unexpected appearance of the giant… It’s all just good storytelling."

"How did you convince Bardict to join?"

"He's retiring from gladiator life. When I suggested this, he jumped at the chance. Said he’s glad to still have a way to perform."

"...I wish I could’ve participated," Emera muttered.

"You’re too small, Emera. Maybe if you doubled your weight."

"Double? I can’t gain weight no matter how much I eat!"

"Haha, some things you can’t change. Oh, by the way, Rain’s started his own gladiator troupe. We should ask about doing a joint show."

"Gladiators?"

"Nope. Pro wrestling."