The gladiatorial match was over. Two gladiators had died, three had been seriously injured, and The Bald Man was not in mortal danger; he had merely passed out.
The spectators cheered and shouted for Harrot and the other gladiators like mad. Even the nobles in the VIP seats applauded and praised them.
"Remarkable! Without Bloodline Power or magical weapons, barely a dozen men defeated a troll!"
"Is that gladiator wielding the greatsword named Harrot? What terrifying destructive power! Even Cleon probably couldn't match him, could he?"
"Haha, I really came at the right time! Such a wonderful show has gotten my blood boiling! Hey, arrange a gladiatorial match for me too. I want to fight that Harrot!"
The nobles were all astonished by Harrot's strength. Cleon had been famous for a long time and was Sarik's capable right-hand man, so they all knew him. Harrot, however, had been here for less than a month. This was truly his first appearance.
Nearby, Scarface ground his teeth with a creak. Not only had he failed to get Harrot killed, he had instead allowed him to gain fame and praise from the nobles.
The nobles treated that slave better than they treated him. This twisted Scarface's heart to the extreme, and he muttered in a low voice, "You lowly slave! I'll definitely kill you!"
Other than The Bald Man being seriously injured and unconscious, this campaign could be called a perfect success. Only two people had died. The last time they had dealt with a troll, they had deployed more than twenty senior gladiators—every elite gladiator they had.
Not only had more than a dozen people died that time, but the survivors had all been seriously injured. The casualties were so light this time mainly because Harrot and The Bald Man had displayed exceptional combat strength, and because their weapons were of better quality.
The Bald Man was truly strong. If he had not been trying to save that gladiator, the troll's attack would have had a hard time landing cleanly on him.
If The Bald Man had been given a magical weapon imbued with fire power, so he would not have to bear the weight of a weapon over sixty pounds and could effectively suppress the troll's regeneration, then it would not have been impossible for him to fight the troll alone.
Compared to The Bald Man, Harrot mainly lacked skill and experience. With skills such as Power Strike and running enhancing his physical attributes, he was not actually weaker than The Bald Man.
Harrot stood blankly beside The Bald Man's bed, lost in thought. The Bald Man had always been both his master and older brother. Ever since Harrot had awakened, he had been under The Bald Man's care.
The Bald Man had trained him, taught him swordsmanship, and done everything he could to help him gain freedom. He was undoubtedly Harrot's greatest benefactor since his transmigration.
Harrot thought of Count Sarik and felt somewhat disappointed. After The Bald Man had been injured and fallen unconscious, the Count had not come to visit even once!
He had not stopped The Bald Man from entering the arena either. When The Bald Man had been sent flying by the troll's punch, with his fate unknown, he had not interfered with the match.
Harrot understood that the Count merely treated The Bald Man as a tool. He was the lofty Count; it was impossible for him to truly care much about The Bald Man. Harrot simply felt it was not worth it for him.
After The Bald Man fell unconscious, Scarface alone took charge of the Gladiatorial Arena's operations. The Bald Man's promise to Harrot that his next match would be his last had not been fulfilled either.
Scarface sent someone to inform Harrot that he would participate in a gladiatorial match tomorrow to entertain the noble lords.
Harrot could only accept. The Bald Man had not awakened, and he had no right to resist the Gladiatorial Arena's manager. Though the nobles thought highly of Harrot, none of them were in a hurry to win him over or buy him off.
He was a slave of the Gladiatorial Arena. Only after Count Sarik explicitly stated that he did not want him would it be their turn to extend an olive branch.
Count Sarik felt it would be better to let The Bald Man personally win Harrot over once he woke up. Thus, although Harrot had already shown extraordinary value, he could only continue being a gladiator.
Harrot thought for a long time before going to sleep that night. Tomorrow's match would probably be an exhibition match. What mattered was his future afterward.
Once The Bald Man woke up, he would definitely introduce him to Count Sarik. Count Sarik would probably be happy to gain another top-notch enforcer.
But Harrot himself was unwilling. He did not want to be Count Sarik's dog!
He wanted to rise to prominence, gain honor, and create his own glory! If he became Count Sarik's subordinate, then he would truly remain a subordinate for the rest of his life!
But he was only a slave. Could he refuse Count Sarik's offer?
Although he was unwilling to remain ordinary, he had been terrified when fighting the magical beast and had stood only one step away from death. The battle with the troll had also made him feel his own weakness and helplessness. He was not that strong!
Harrot hesitated. He was tired in body and mind, unable to muster the courage to refuse the Count's offer. He did not understand what path he should take from now on.
Dreams were so distant, and the path to realizing them was fraught with difficulties!
Harrot fell into a deep sleep and had another dream.
In the dream, he was captain of a town militia. He married a wife who was not particularly beautiful but was very virtuous, and they had a son and a daughter.
There were no thrilling battles and no passionate adventures. His daily work consisted only of dealing with some petty thugs and punishing unscrupulous merchants.
After work, he would go to the tavern and have a few drinks with The Bald Man, then return home to spend time with his wife and children.
When he woke from the dream, Harrot noticed the smile on his lips. He suddenly realized that an ordinary, happy life seemed rather nice too.
Eight wives, becoming a dragon-slaying hero, a fiefdom and a title—those things no longer held such a powerful attraction for him.
After waking, Harrot went to visit The Bald Man in the infirmary again. He was now almost beyond the control of the guards. They all knew that Harrot would soon be favored by an influential person, just like The Bald Man.
The Bald Man was in much better condition and looked as though he would wake soon. Harrot was completely relieved.
Someone notified him to wait at the entrance to the arena. It would soon be his turn to take the stage.
Harrot leisurely took his place, wondering who his opponent would be.
Some cannon fodder they had pulled in at random? Probably not. That would be too perfunctory; the noble lords would fall asleep watching.
A magical beast? Probably not either. He was talent now—would the Gladiatorial Arena be willing to let him die?
It was probably some unlucky official gladiator. I'm in a good mood. I'll try to show mercy and spare your life!
Harrot thought lightly, but unfortunately, reality was often unexpected. It always drove people into desperate situations!
The host's impassioned voice echoed throughout the arena as he excitedly roared out today's main event:
"Today, our God of War, Harrot, will challenge a monster from the wilderness alone—Ogres!"
After hearing the host's words, Harrot's mind went blank. He walked numbly toward the arena.
An iron gate in the distance opened, and a terrifying monster slightly smaller than the troll emerged.
"Ogres, the rulers of the wilderness! Their strength is astonishing, and a full-force swing of their wooden clubs can crush any enemy into pulp!"
Harrot stood alone in the center of the Gladiatorial Arena. He looked up at the sky, then at the roaring Ogres. It all felt unreal. He had to deal with this monster alone? Was this a joke?
In the VIP seats, the noble lords watched the Gladiatorial Arena with great interest, while Scarface wore a sinister smile nearby.
Although a few noble lords valued Harrot's strength, Harrot was not their man after all. They did not find it too regrettable.
Count Sarik was somewhat conflicted. He had already regarded Harrot as his property, and Harrot's death would be his loss. Scarface had actually arranged such a match without authorization. It seemed Scarface had to die!
At that moment, The Bald Man, covered in bandages and only just awake, rushed into the VIP section. He bent down and dropped to one knee before Count Sarik, pleading:
"My lord, it is too dangerous for Harrot to face Ogres alone. I ask that you stop this match immediately!"
Seeing The Bald Man come to make trouble, Scarface immediately cursed, "The match has already begun. If you stop it now, you'll be breaking the rules! With so many noble lords watching, do you want to disgrace the Gladiatorial Arena?"
The Bald Man did not argue. He only looked earnestly at Count Sarik. The Count had the final say in the Gladiatorial Arena; as long as he was willing, there would be no problem stopping the match.
Count Sarik hesitated for a moment before answering, "Cleon, you need to believe in Harrot. He can defeat Ogres!"
"If I stop the match now, people will think Harrot is a coward, a weakling who does not dare face Ogres. All the glory he earned by defeating magical beasts and trolls will be ruined!"
"At the same time, it will damage my reputation. If I break the rules and save someone out of favoritism before so many Commoners and noble guests, the loss will be difficult for me to make up for!"
"Even so, do you still insist on stopping this match?"
After hearing Count Sarik's words, The Bald Man lowered his head. But when he thought of how Harrot had agreed without hesitation to challenge the troll with him, his resolve immediately hardened.
The Bald Man raised his head firmly and pleaded, "My lord, please! Harrot is a man with great potential, and he is also my brother. It would be such a pity for him to die like this. Please save his life!"
Count Sarik froze for a moment. His words had seemed to explain the stakes, but they had actually been a clear refusal. He had not expected The Bald Man to disregard his wishes and persist.
He had originally hesitated over whether to stop the match. Harrot was exceptionally strong, and it would be a pity for him to die. But with so many nobles eagerly wanting to watch this match, he found it difficult to call it off and lose face.
The Bald Man's plea instead made Count Sarik decide not to stop the match. It was simple: if he granted The Bald Man's request, Harrot would not be grateful to him afterward, but to The Bald Man.
The reason Count Sarik appreciated Commoners like The Bald Man and Harrot as subordinates was because they were loyal and cheap.
He did not need to reward them with land or grant them fame and profit. He only needed to lend them a hand when they were down, earn their gratitude, and then squeeze every last bit of value from them.
The Bald Man's request had cost him the chance to use Harrot for free. If he wanted to take Harrot in, he would likely have to promise quite a few benefits. In that case, there was even less reason to lose face by saving him.
After calculating everything, Count Sarik sternly rebuked The Bald Man. "Cleon! Do not forget your place. I have yet to settle accounts with you for insisting on personally fighting the troll, and now you want to interfere with the Gladiatorial Arena's operations again?"
"You've only just woken up, so perhaps you still aren't clear-headed! I will not hold your offense against you. You had better go wash your face and calm down first!"
The Bald Man wanted to say more, but The One-Armed Man pulled him to his feet and dragged him away.
With The Bald Man's strength, even though he had not recovered from his injuries, a Knight with only one arm could not have dragged him away.
What dragged The Bald Man away was his own grief and disappointment.
Should I really not stop the battle? Ogres may not be as strong as trolls, but they are not something one person can defeat! Is glory more important than life?
Was I wrong? Or... was I wrong about Count Sarik? No, that's impossible. Count Sarik is absolutely not an ordinary noble. He is merciful, wise, and kind!
But... but why has he never accepted any of my suggestions? Harrot is going to die! Why won't he stop the match?!
The Bald Man could only stand at the entrance to the arena and watch the match unfold, unable to offer Harrot any help.
Before you continue