Slaughterer

Two days passed in the blink of an eye.

Caesar's body had already been buried, and the Arena staff had not come looking for it. They were happy to leave the Gladiators with the corpse until it rotted away completely, leaving only bones and adding a touch of gloom to the cave.

The lights inside the cave would kill the germs produced during decomposition, preventing the Gladiators from falling ill and dying outside the Arena.

This Arena, this planet called Nuceria—their technological level soared above the clouds, while their moral standards sank through the planet's core.

Not until today, two days later, did this life of trapped beasts see the slightest ripple.

"What are the people outside doing?"

Oeno lay weakly on the cold stone, using the tattered shirt that had once covered his upper body to bind his abdomen tightly.

Other than Qin Xa and Angron, the other Gladiators were sprawled about in every direction, drawing weak, shallow breaths.

Oeno had said before that before Arena Day came the Feast Day, and for two or three days before the Feast Day, food would no longer be distributed, forcing the Gladiators to fast.

Now, everyone was so hungry they had collapsed where they lay.

Overwhelming cheers and shouts from outside reached every ear, but most of the people here did not even have the strength to stand and peer through the window.

Qin Xa was currently sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed. The only other person unaffected by this was Angron, who could go see what was happening.

So Angron stood and walked to the window, looking outside.

"A ceremony is being held in the Arena. People have gathered there."

Angron relayed what he saw outside.

"Five people riding mechanical warhorses have entered the Arena's combat grounds, but they are not slaughtering one another. They are parading around as though basking in glory."

"Then more people came riding biological warhorses, following behind those five golden, gleaming knights on mechanical warhorses."

After describing them, Angron looked at Oeno and asked, "Are they High-Riders?"

At the question, Oeno forced out two weak, helpless laughs. "They're no High-Riders... They've come to the Arena to fight. The next match will probably be them against us."

Angron tilted his head, clearly unable to understand why those riders, if they were Gladiators too, could ride around on great steeds flaunting themselves, while they had to be locked in a cave and starved.

The negative emotions born from the Gladiators' hunger tormented Angron and filled him with pain.

"They aren't Gladiators, even though they're taking part in the fights." Seeming to know what Angron wanted to ask, Oeno answered directly.

"Not Gladiators?" Confusion showed in Angron's eyes.

"They're nobles, nobles beneath the High-Riders. Some young masters from noble families come to the Arena looking for thrills."

Oeno spoke weakly.

"Then their families forge them powerful armor and weapons, letting these young masters who want to seek excitement together form an Arena team."

"The people you described riding mechanical warhorses should be noble children of the Tark Family. The knights behind them riding ordinary warhorses are their household servants."

"That little pack of bastards calls its Arena team the Plebeian Butchers."

After Oeno finished speaking, Angron looked out the window with a heavy heart.

Qin Xa, who had been sitting cross-legged in meditation, opened his eyes. "Plebeian Butchers? What the fuck kind of name is that?"

Oeno could only express a bitter smile through his tone. "That name is disgusting indeed, but they are still the stars among Nuceria's noble Arena teams."

Qin Xa wanted to curse, but swallowed the words before they left his mouth. He closed his eyes again and focused on exploring the use of psychic power.

"Why don't the Nucerians resist?"

A question filled with endless confusion reached the Gladiators' ears.

Hearing it, the Gladiators laboriously turned their gazes toward Angron.

"The Nucerians have resisted before," Oeno said.

"No... no..." Angron shook his head. "I don't mean whether anyone has resisted before. I mean... if a noble Arena team is openly called the Plebeian Butchers, if they make no effort whatsoever to hide it, why don't all Nucerians rise up against them together?"

At this, even Oeno, who had some philosophical inclination, lowered his head.

It was not that he lacked an answer. Rather, his answer tended to seek explanations in people's character and ways of thinking.

Most Nucerians had grown accustomed to being enslaved by the nobles, and Nucerians themselves were easily enslaved.

That was Oeno's answer.

"Maybe..." Oeno raised his head and stared into Angron's eyes, his expression indignant. "Those who resist are either killed, or locked in the Arena like us. The rest are those who don't dare resist the nobles. Like livestock penned up in an enclosure—the brave ones are slaughtered for meat, so aren't the ones left behind naturally cowards?"

Angron's features, which had nearly drawn together into a knot, eased slightly. He seemed to understand.

"Bullshit."

A somewhat cold voice came from beside Oeno.

Angron and the others turned to look at the speaker just as they had looked at Oeno.

Qin Xa opened his eyes again and stared at Oeno. "Brother, I admit you're good at thinking. You have the potential to be a philosopher, but only a little. And on this matter, you're completely wrong."

Oeno was not angered by the rebuttal. He had only given the matter some casual thought and, unable to find an answer, settled on one that would do.

He listened quietly, signaling for Qin Xa to continue. He wanted to hear the view of this learned man.

"We want to escape the Arena. Is it to die, or is it to get out of our predicament?" Qin Xa asked everyone.

"What kind of bullshit question is that!"

The female Gladiator who had once planned to leave the cave with Qin Xa and Caesar to gather information shouted angrily.

She did not think this was even a question.

"Everyone wants to get out of this predicament, not die," Oeno said. "Obviously, friend."

"Exactly." Qin Xa nodded. "Nuceria's High-Riders monopolize technology. This world reeks of barbarism and ignorance, like a world filled with primitive people, yet the technology used by the nobles is so advanced it inspires despair."

"The nobles here do not even need a large number of Soldiers to establish the force necessary for their rule."

"And iron men like the Security Automata will not betray their users, nor will they show mercy. They have become the nobles' most loyal butcher's blades."

"In such an environment, if people resist not to die but to truly change something, then endurance and waiting for a change in circumstances are necessary."

"This is a matter of material foundations and objective conditions. You cannot find the answer at the level of character and thought."

After speaking, Qin Xa looked at Angron.

Angron nodded thoughtfully.

The Gladiators also fell into thought.

But for mortals, their thoughts lasted less than two minutes, because the hunger about to devour their sanity left their brains capable only of maintaining basic bodily functions.