Big Shots

Chapter 35: The Big Shot

The Maggot Eye circled the arena, beginning its announcement.

In the VIP box of the stands, Tal sat by the railing, sipping wine and fiddling with a gemstone, his gaze intensely fixed on the arena's combat zone.

As the arena gates slowly opened, the door to the room was also opened by guards, and the arena manager, trembling, walked in.

"What did he ask for?" Tal asked.

"He asked to bring ten people onto the field," the manager replied, doing his best to maintain a calm tone.

The patriarch of House Tal found this puzzling. "The Praetorian Guard squad with the swordsman only has six people. Why would he want to bring ten?"

"Perhaps he doesn't know how many people he'll be facing," the manager quickly responded. "After all, I only notified him temporarily, on your orders."

"So he wants ten people..." Tal turned to stare at the manager, his expression fierce and cold. "And you agreed? Allowing a slave gladiator to make demands of you, a servant of House Tal?"

The manager initially wanted to apologize but quickly corrected himself and calmly replied, "Because your command was for me to agree to one of his conditions, so I agreed. Even if he asked me to die, I would die."

Tal's expression instantly shifted to a smile. "This is why I let you manage the arena."

The manager forced a humble smile. "It is my utmost honor to be favored by the gods."

"Don't be nervous," Tal said, noticing the manager was trembling. "Sit beside me. We'll share wine and enjoy the combat together."

"Yes, Master," the manager immediately walked over and sat beside Tal.

The cushion, pressed down by the dirty trousers he had just worn in the arena caves, was so expensive it could have fed an entire city for a month. It was something only a High Knight could sit on.

But the manager dared not refuse, for he knew Tal's temperament too well.

Tal cared nothing for cleanliness or decorum; he only cared if someone obeyed. If a slave was favored by his capricious mercy, and he commanded them to crawl out of a muddy pit and sleep in one of his bedrooms, that slave had better comply rather than refuse on the grounds of soiling something.

"Why do you think I'm paying so much attention to a gladiator?" Tal asked suddenly, after finishing the wine in his mouth.

"I don't know."

Such an honest answer would have surely led to punishment for stupidity from any other High Knight, but with Tal, dishonesty was what angered him.

"Because I'm assessing him," Tal said. "A rational, sane sorcerer is useful in himself, so I want him to do something for me."

"If there's something you want him to do, I'll immediately convey your will. Today's arena combat will be halted, and everyone in the stands will be sent home," the manager said. "Of course, my nephew, who wants revenge, will also have to go home."

Tal grew even happier, drinking with a smile, even pouring a cup for the manager himself.

The gladiators had already entered the arena.

The swordsman from the Praetorian Guard and his squad had also arrived.

The two sides faced each other.

At this moment, Tal suddenly turned to the manager and asked softly, "Speaking of which, during the last festival, you obeyed my command and sent your wife and daughter to the cave?"

"Of course. They seemed very happy when they returned," the manager replied with a smile.

Tal also smiled. "Actually, I was just speaking in anger then. You really didn't have to... Well, since they've already been, why should I say more? In short, I regretted it afterward. I'm sorry."

"Please forgive my foolish obedience to your angry words... but your command is everything," the manager responded.

Tal listened and then stared at the manager.

After a moment, he shifted his gaze, took a sip of wine, and looked at the arena. "I've prepared an apology gift for you, an estate in an artificial oasis."

Qin Xia looked at the several people before him.

Including the Praetorian Guard swordsman, all the Praetorians wore magnificent golden armor, with their arms wrapped in a silver material.

Qin Xia knew that the Praetorians were the human forces of the High Knights. Each of them was a noble, just not as high in status as the High Knights.

The Praetorians had a characteristic: they used something called Silver Vine.

This was what was wrapped around the Praetorians' arms.

Silver Vine was a versatile tool. It could be the Praetorians' armor, swords, vehicles, even beds or bridges...

This miraculous item could transform into anything, making it truly omnipotent.

And each Praetorian carried one of these omnipotent tools.

Qin Xia turned to examine the ten people he had brought.

They were all gladiators who opposed the principle of not killing.

"We need to cooperate," the gladiator who had loudly refuted Ono in the cave said, scanning everyone. "Just like when we faced the Butchers two days ago."

The gladiators exchanged glances, their gazes finally settling on Qin Xia.

Qin Xia returned a gaze that sent chills down their spines.

At this moment, he didn't seem like the person who joked and smiled when he wasn't meditating.

He appeared cold and aloof, as if he had become someone else.

"Hey, slave," the swordsman facing Qin Xia suddenly spoke, his voice laced with obvious amusement. "It seems you've been buttering up my uncle quite a bit. Otherwise, how could he possibly allow you to bring ten people onto the field to face me and my comrades? How did you butter him up? Was it like his male servants..."

"You're wrong about that." Qin Xia raised a finger and explained very seriously, "I wasn't trying to curry favor with your uncle. Your uncle owed me a personal favor to make things easier when burying you and your father together. These people behind me are him repaying that favor."

The smile under the swordsman's helmet vanished instantly. "Go to hell!"

"Are those four words your last words?" Qin Xia said with a smile. "After your funeral, when you and your father's widow come to the cave on the festival day, I'll tell them your last words and then put your photo on the wall so you can feel a sense of participation."

"Hiss... wait."

Qin Xia ignored the swordsman's expression of shock and rage, asking with feigned concern.

"By the way, if you die, will the women in your family be sold off directly or buried with you? If it's the latter, I'll take back what I just said and change it to... after I dig up your grave in the future, I'll carve your last words onto the skulls of all your family members, young and old."

"I'll chop you into pieces and feed you to the dogs!" the swordsman immediately roared and attacked.

The Maggot Eye was continuously announcing for the gladiators. Just as the announcer was about to declare the start, the Silver Vine on the swordsman's hand shot towards Qin Xia.

Qin Xia sidestepped to dodge. The gladiator behind him had his head wrapped by the Silver Vine, which then tightened instantly like flowing water.

The sound of a head exploding rang out.

A gladiator knelt on the ground.

As another Silver Vine from a Praetorian Guard lunged at him, Qin Xia dodged again. The gladiator in the path of the Silver Vine was impaled through the body.

As the Silver Vine emerged from the gladiator's orifices like flowing water, the other Praetorian Guards also attacked.

Qin Xia dodged the attack again, then suddenly raised his right arm. "Stop!"

The Praetorian Guards thought he was about to unleash psychic power when he raised his hand. Upon hearing the word "stop," they all ceased their actions, preparing to defend themselves with their sorcery-resistant gear.

So, these Praetorian Guards looked as if they had indeed been halted in their combat by Qin Xia.

Qin Xia said with a worried expression, "Your parents didn't have you late in life, did they? Otherwise, I'd have to consider keeping my distance from your mother on the festival day. But she won't be neglected, because there are also strong older men among the gladiators."

The swordsman froze for half a second before lunging at Qin Xia like a madman.