The wager: The winner loses everything

That was why none of the wounds this world left you would ever heal. They would only ache faintly on rainy days, hounding you like little demons, reminding you that they had truly been there.

Jessica hugged her knees, her body beginning to tremble. She buried her face in them and let out a muffled sob.

She could not imagine that her strong, gentle father was like this outside: his face twisted, swinging an axe like a deranged murderer, drenched in blood. Then he would turn around and tell Jessica with a smile-

Gladiators fought for honor...

A gladiator's honor was above all else...

Enemies who faced each other in the arena would laugh and embrace once they stepped off the field...

The merciful, great gladiator king would save every brave gladiator...

Liar!

Lies!

All of it was lies!

"I've been here over three years, and this is the first time I've wanted to uphold justice. Why do they insist on getting in my way?"

Lu Ye sighed and muttered to himself, "Dead rat, do I look like a good person who sticks to convention?"

Jinbao floated onto Lu Ye's shoulder and muttered with a look of disdain, "Well, little Lu Ye, you still don't know yourself well enough. You don't need any extra qualifiers, because you don't look like a good person at all!"

Lu Ye's face turned stern. "Yes, anyone who wants to bully me, anyone who dares bully me, I'll answer with my fists. But if I'm so fierce and ruthless, why do people courting death keep coming?"

"That's a question of human sociology. But first of all, I'm not human. Second, I've been in the Underworld since I gained sentience, and I came this close to getting an official post, so I don't understand society either."

Jinbao rubbed his paws and lamented, "But could you stop giving off killing intent when you talk? I often stand next to you and end up mistaking myself for a villain."

Seeing Lu Ye muttering to himself, Rosward burst out laughing:

"Little Longinus, you see it clearly now, don't you? Freck has made his move against you. You wanted to protect that slave, so he offered terms you couldn't refuse, ensuring that your slave would not only lose the match but die in the arena."

Rosward pointed his golden scepter at the rankings projected on the wall. The gladiatorial match had only just begun, but some names had already turned gray:

"He wants to get the better of you, and he's broadcasting it live for everyone in the Holy Land to see. It's a good thing you didn't send that useless little slave in, or your name would have been the first to turn gray along with his, and you'd have become the laughingstock of the Holy Land."

Doffy glared at him. "Bastard Rosward, you were just urging Longinus to enter the little slave in the match!"

"Wuhahahaha! Does the Donquixote Family not allow people to turn over a new leaf? Besides, I didn't collude with Freck on this in private."

Rosward glanced at Lu Ye, sensing the faint traces of killing intent coming from him. He stroked his fluffy beard. "So, little Longinus, how do you plan to respond?"

"Who knows? Maybe I want to take a gamble too."

Lu Ye crossed his legs and took a plate of delicate chocolate cookies from the swordsman chef's food box. Tossing them into his mouth, he said casually:

"Uncle, everything in this world has a price, choices included. It's just that the price is written on the back of the tag.

Tricks may work, but the price comes due afterward.

I'm a petty man. No one takes something from me without paying for it.

Let him make his moves. I'll quietly wait for the result of the match.

I wonder whether clever Freck can see how much Hector's life is worth.

Between him and me, the winner loses everything..."

Rosward narrowed his eyes and warned him, "Little Longinus, don't do anything unnecessary. If you attack a Celestial Dragon for a slave, Garling will execute you himself, no matter how much he likes you now."

"Execute..."

Mjosgard shuddered. "I saw it happen once when I was little. My scalp still tingles when I think about it."

Lu Ye said unhurriedly, "Thanks for your concern. I know the Holy Land's bottom line, and I won't put myself in danger...

Let's watch the match, everyone. The higher the stakes, the more interesting the outcome."

In the circular arena.

More and more slave gladiators lay unconscious. Quite a few were already dead, while others were on the verge of death, groaning in agony.

Bright red blood flowed across the rocky ground, making it wet and slippery underfoot, unpleasantly sticky.

"Huff-huff-"

Hector panted heavily. He tore off his coarse cloth vest and used it to bind his hand tightly to his axe.

He had just split a red-bearded opponent's head in two with one blow of his axe. His breathing was somewhat ragged, and he cautiously retreated to the edge of the arena to recover.

Few gladiators in the arena could still move, only a dozen or so, but every one of them was a highly skilled warrior who had fought his way through the melee. The fighting had not grown any less intense; instead, it was even harder than at the start.

Aside from a few locked in one-on-one battles, the vast majority were attacking Polo the Mountain together.

No one knew what race this monster belonged to, but he alone had all eight opponents struggling to catch their breath.

"Hey! Hector, let's team up. You don't want to be left fighting that blue monster one-on-one at the end, do you?"

The speaker was a middle-aged slave from the Longleg Tribe, tall and slender, with long black hair. His impressive kicking techniques had left a strong impression.

"A pirate?"

Hector asked bluntly.

"So what if I am?"

The middle-aged Longleg man grinned. "Pirates have families too! We can split the hundred-million-Beli prize. No matter which of us is the last one standing, both our families will benefit. It's good for both of us. What do you say, shield boy?"

Hector lowered his eyes. "Sorry, I can't trust a pirate."

"So, like the Mountain, you're planning to take us all down."

The middle-aged Longleg man held his forehead helplessly, planting his left foot firmly and resting the tip of his right foot lightly on the ground. "What a shame. Then I'll have to eliminate you first and find a new partner..."

The middle-aged Longleg man leaped into the air, spinning rapidly enough to make the air crack in a series of piercing bursts.

Bang!

His leg whipped through the air and slammed into Hector's shield.

Hector's rear leg bent slightly, and the ground beneath his feet instantly burst apart, forming a spiderweb-shaped crater.

"Pirate, I have a reason I have to get out of here too!"

Hector let out an angry shout and swung his axe at the man's long leg. Its fierce force tore through the air, sending a chill down the spectators' spines.

"The greatest disadvantage of you ordinary humans is that you're too slow."

The middle-aged Longleg man sneered and pushed off Hector's shield, somersaulting backward into the air...

Crack-

A figure like a mountain crashed across the arena. A broad, cold blade flashed like lightning, suddenly cleaving through the air and cutting the middle-aged Longleg man in two.

Blood poured down like black rain!

Hector's vision darkened. He looked up and found himself enveloped in a towering shadow, his throat trembling slightly beyond his control.

The shadow licked the corner of his mouth and said in a muffled voice, "Wulalala... Master said to leave you for last, but you don't seem as strong as he said. I'll deal with you after I finish them off."

With that, the shadow roared, turned, and swung his blade. Several smaller shadows leaped backward into the distance.

Only then did Hector realize with a start that, while Polo the Mountain was speaking to him, he had left his back completely exposed to his opponents' attacks. Yet even so, they seemed to have had no effect on him at all.

The sheer toughness of his flesh was staggering!