Caring and Being Cared For

The next day.

The cave gate of the gladiators' quarters opened, and the slaves who had delivered food on feast day had come again now.

Only today wasn't a feast day before a major arena match, so the slaves brought only very ordinary food.

Like the bread and fresh water Oeno had once given to Qin Xa and Angron.

Qin Xa paid a bit more attention and noticed that the female slave whose son was a gladiator had also come.

"Distribute the food and fresh water." The female slave was clearly a slave of high status; she spoke softly to the slaves she had brought with an air of dignity.

Then each gladiator received their portion of food and fresh water.

Qin Xa noticed that the food and fresh water were placed in a square package, one per person.

This meant that the food Oeno had given out before was his own, thrown out by him, not shared among the gladiators.

"Gentlemen." The female slave bowed to the gladiators and said with dignity, "The schedule for the regular arena matches over the next few days has been released."

As soon as she finished speaking, a young boy who looked only eleven years old walked into the cave.

The boy didn't dare meet the gladiators' gazes; he feared these executioners.

While avoiding all eyes, the boy came to the gate and prepared to stick the arena schedule on it.

When the boy used all his strength only to paste it at a height of about four feet, Oeno stepped forward and helped him stick the schedule at a height easier for the gladiators to read.

"Thanks," the boy whispered.

"My brother is forever your age in my memory." Oeno crouched down to look at the boy. "What's your name, buddy?"

"Yochuka," the boy replied.

"Alright, Yochuka." Oeno gestured for the boy to look at the other gladiators. "We're just forced to stay here; we're not bad people, so next time you don't have to be scared."

The boy turned to look at the gladiators around him.

Kleist smiled at him.

Qin Xa sat cross-legged with his eyes closed.

Angron nodded.

When Yochuka's gaze fell on a pair of twin gladiators standing in the middle of the cave, something in their icy stares sent a chill down his spine.

But Yochuka still forced himself to look around, then nodded at Oeno. "Mm-hmm."

As the two spoke, the high-status female slave carried two packages of food over to Angron.

When Angron looked up at her, the female slave smiled and handed over the two parcels. "The overseer said you should eat your fill before going into the arena."

With that, the female slave turned to look at her son, clearly having something she wanted to say but hesitating over whether she should.

Angron had something he was curious about, so he spoke first. "Ma'am, what's your son's name?"

"His name is Yochula. He's only seventeen. He's not a warrior and hasn't had much combat training; he only became a gladiator a month before you and the gentleman beside you."

Hearing the female slave say her son's name was Yochula, Angron pointed at the ten-something-year-old boy named Yochuka. "Are they brothers?"

"Yes." Yochula came to his mother's side and nodded vigorously. "Yes, he's my brother."

But Yochula's mother didn't immediately confirm it.

After a half-second of silence, a trace of sorrow flickered across the female slave's face, then she nodded quietly. "Yes, sir. But Yochuka is my adopted son; his parents..."

She trailed off mid-sentence, swallowing the rest.

"Ma'am." Kleist sidled up to Yochula's mother. "When does the postponed carnival start? It's been a month since that little miss from Mahe City met me, and I can't wait to see her again."

Hearing this, the female slave sized up Kleist, only now realizing this was a woman.

After a slight shock, the female slave shook her head. "The overseer said the carnival before your fight with the Slaughterer has been completely canceled. It won't resume until the next time you have a major arena match."

"What's the reason for the cancellation?" Kleist's face changed instantly as she grabbed the female slave's arm and pulled her close. "If you can't explain clearly, you're staying here with me today."

"Let go of my mother!" Yochula shoved Kleist away hard.

Kleist laughed. "Don't worry, kid, I'm joking. I wouldn't dare touch a slave who was once said to be the handmaiden of the Patriarch of Tark Family."

"Can you stop pretending to be a man and acting aggressive just to protect yourself?" Qin Xa said helplessly. "Kleist, you don't have to do that. We'll all protect you."

Kleist's "mask" was stripped away by Qin Xa's words, and she fell silent.

She thought it over and realized he was right.

"Sorry, I'm used to it..." Kleist lowered her head, speaking dejectedly. "It's not me who needs the carnival here, but my good buddies always do."

The female slave pulled her son behind her and faced Kleist with a feigned toughness. "How would I know why the overseer canceled the carnival? Would he tell me his plans instead of having his personal slave deliver the orders directly?"

Kleist was left speechless.

The female slave looked at the others. "The overseer's personal slave said that as compensation, this supply pack has two rolls of bandages besides the food."

Hearing there were bandages, the gladiators were all startled, then quickly opened their own supply packs to check inside.

When they saw two rolls of glowing bandages inside, the gladiators burst into cheers.

Cheers even more raucous and joyful than the audience watching a gladiator fight.

"Two rolls of bandages?" Qin Xa picked up the glowing rolls, eyeing them with confusion. He could sense they contained some radioactivity, but he had no idea why the gladiators were cheering for them.

"If I were you, I'd hide those bandages," Oeno said, walking over. "They can heal any wound. Even if someone stabs you three times and leaves six holes, as long as you're not dead yet, they'll still patch you up."

Though it sounded absurd, Qin Xa didn't think Oeno was lying.

In his view, these bandages were like the narcotics among Nuceria's three treasures—proof that the advanced technology of this hellhole was firmly in the hands of the nobles.

Slavery, brutal gladiatorial combat, slums.

Rulers armed like gods with high-tech, technology so advanced it was staggering.

Qin Xa suddenly thought of Ultramar.

Nuceria wasn't far from the future Ultramar's Five Hundred Worlds. Compared to Ultramar's heavy Roman flavor, Nuceria had a pretty strong Roman vibe too.

Only Nuceria represented the darkest, most brutal side of Rome.

"Yochula." The slave woman pulled her son aside, far from Angron, and gently instructed him, "This afternoon's first regular match is you, that man named Angron, and Lady Kleist. You're up against the Nusa Twins and the Skinner."

"Stay close behind Mr. Angron. He's a newcomer too, but I think he'll protect you. And he will."

She lowered her voice as she spoke, not wanting Angron to hear.

There was nothing shameful in her words, but saying them aloud always felt like there was some transaction involved.

But Angron heard anyway.

Whether it was whispers in a cave or the chatter of spectators filing into the arena seats, the Primarch could faintly catch it all.

The emotions this mother felt for her gladiator son—worry, love, concern...

Compared to the emotions gladiators usually felt, this mother's feelings warmed Angron.

"I'll protect him," Angron suddenly said to the slave woman. "If only for the sake of that extra piece of bread someone who cares about him gave me."

"Thank you." The woman froze for a moment, then quickly thanked him, turned, and led the others away. As she reached the door, she stuck out her tongue and quickened her pace.