Yrel was right. Handing them out one by one sounded inefficient, but if everyone rushed forward at once, it would inevitably turn into chaos.
Intimidated by Yrel's presence and agreeing with her reasoning, these ruthless gladiators lined up one after another to collect their equipment and supplies, like elementary school students waiting for lunch.
Only then did Yrel nod in satisfaction.
In fact, with the help of magic, the gladiators collected their supplies far more quickly than Yrel had expected.
Several hundred slave gladiators were fully equipped and ready to go in just five minutes.
Led by Yrel, the main force left the warehouse and headed for the coliseum gates.
With so many people, Yrel had no expectations of concealing the group's movements from the guards at the entrance.
The footsteps of hundreds of people, the clatter of armor, their breathing, even their voices. The gladiators were not well-trained soldiers; they had no way to organize an ambush.
Sure enough, they had barely approached the gates before the Orc soldiers on guard spotted them. Someone quickly locked the gates, while the other soldiers began shouting for reinforcements.
Seeing that things were going badly, Yrel knew they could not waste time. She turned to Ye Ting.
"Mr. Sandor, please use magic to open the gates."
Ye Ting nodded and lightly pointed at the heavy, iron-banded wooden gates, secured by massive locks.
"Alohomora!"
The spell from [the Harry Potter world] showed its obvious effect here.
After a flash of blue light, the gates burst open as though they had been struck head-on by a battering ram. The Orc soldiers trying to block the gates were flung far away along with the debris they had piled up.
Seeing this, Yrel took the lead and shouted:
"Now is the first step toward our freedom!