Blackfoot’s POV

‘Jensen is a pretty fun guy, despite his arrogant attitude. It turns out that he’s a Shadow user, which was treated as a myth on my planet. He also listens to my stories and asks questions about my home, which means that I get to speak more, which is an added bonus. Overall, over the past two days, I would say that we’ve become friends.’

While Blackfoot was speaking about his “epic battle against the Monster of the North”, a guard entered the bedroom that also functioned as the hangout for the past two days.

“We’ve arrived. Change into these and head out the front toward the courtyard.”

The man tossed four sets of clothes toward the center of the room and left. Blackfoot passed out the clothes to everyone.

“Sheesh. They really want us to know we’re slaves, huh?”

The cloth was closer to rags than actual clothes. A pair of torn up, brown shorts and a tan shirt with the sleeves torn off from previous wear and tear. ‘Even the slaves back on my planet were better dressed than this.’ Blackfoot thought genuinely.

Blackfoot, Jensen, and the others walked out of the front of the ship, landing on an incredibly dry ground. Dust kicked up from the impact of them jumping down, and the sun shone brilliantly. ‘This place is like a desert.’ Looking around the small courtyard, he noticed the surrounding barracks and a mansion in the distance. The courtyard had training dummies around the edges. These dummies appeared to be fairly high quality, compared to the clothes they had been given. The House of Fortner was a large family that had grown to high status through the galaxy’s Gladiator Tournaments. Eventually, they rose to enough status to represent their entire galaxy in the Gladiator Sponsorship and Tournament. Thus, they had plenty of wealth. While not as widespread as the Galactic Survival Games, the Gladiator Tournament was very well known throughout the Cosmos in the Underworld. Considered a dark practice, most galaxies refused to acknowledge the Tournament- despite sending scouts to find possible recruits for their armies.

The guards pushed them to the center of the courtyard in a straight, side-by-side line. Large figures exited the barracks after hearing the commotion outside. The gladiators, who were a mix of many different strange races, surrounded the line-up of rookies and immediately began to holler and throw dirt at them. ‘These guys all have nasty looks… I can tell they’re all experienced in battle, as well…’ The surrounding gladiators, wearing clothes slightly nicer than the rookies, appeared to be chiseled from stone. Years of strength training and battles carved their physiques to an incredibly toned and muscular appearance.

“They get weaker every year! Look at how flabby this one is!”

A large man with a lion’s head held up the arm of one of the two slaves beside Blackfoot and Jensen. The man asked for the slave’s name.

“What is your name, boy?”

“S… Sadey, sir.”

The boy that answered appeared to be a few years older than Jensen, but had clearly been intimidated by the savage atmosphere of the courtyard.

“Hahaha! Even your voice is weak! This is the House of Fortner, the greatest Gladiator House in the Universe! We don’t need trash like you to sully the name of the brotherhood!”

The lion extended one of the claws of his hand and began to lightly scratch Sadey’s forehead. Sadey, in his extreme fear, had frozen completely and hoped he wouldn’t be killed.

After a few moments, the lion roared.

“I’m finished. What do you think, Brothers?”

The other gladiators began to roar in laughter upon seeing what his forehead said.

In all capital letters, with blood flowing down his face, his forehead read:

P I G S H I T

Blackfoot began to break into cold sweat. ‘Even on my planet, I had never witnessed a place like this… Seasoned warriors with incredible strength so blatantly bullying those weaker than them…’ Blackfoot understood the kind of place that the House of Fortner was. Strength was life. And life was value. In order to survive in this place, he couldn’t afford to step on any toes of these gladiators. These people were strong. Their bloodlust was dominating the atmosphere. Offending them could yield terrible results.

Sadey felt that, at this point, moving a muscle or showing any kind of protest would mean certain death. After all, Blackfoot was a skilled and battle-experienced warrior- if he felt intimidated, Sadey would feel completely oppressed. Suddenly, on the balcony over the barracks that overlooked the courtyard, a woman came out. This woman was not the one that bought them, but was clearly a member of the Fortner house. With her long antennae and gaudy clothes, she appeared to fit the high-status image. Upon seeing her, the surrounding gladiators began to take a few steps back for her to get a better look at the crop. She began to speak.

“Welcome to the House of Fortner. I am Fortenius Fortner, the Head of the House. This is the courtyard, where you will be tested if truly worthy of being a Gladiator that represents us in the Tournament.”

At these words, the surrounding gladiators continued their harassment. In their eyes, these people were nothing more than pups. ‘I hope I can make it through this without finding an axe in my neck…’ Blackfoot thought genuinely.

“Not every slave is gladiator material- just because you are stronger than scum, that does not mean you are worthy of being part of the Brotherhood.”

As soon as these words came out of Fortenius’s mouth, the gladiators roared a battle cry of pride and savagery. Even Blackfoot flinched at such a loud warcry. ‘I was right… these people are something else… their aura alone is beginning to weigh me down…’ The woman continued.

“Listen to my words and carve them into your heart. You, who achieved feats in battle that was extraordinary for your entire planet. You, who have braved the challenges of the arena and managed to be sponsored by our house. You, who stand before the House of Fortner as a bought warrior. You…are nothing. Your past…means nothing. Your future… is not worth dreaming of. You are nothing more than scum. Your value is not your life- it is the coin that we paid for it.”

The rookies listened with pitiful expressions covering their faces. While their pride was trampled, they had absolutely no desire to speak in opposition due to the incredibly oppressive atmosphere.

“In summary, you are pig shit. Any of the gladiators around you could humiliate you, bully you, and slaughter you. You are not worthy to lick the shoes of my champion.”

“Quit spewing nonsense.”

The gladiators turned to see a slender, dark-haired teen with a disinterested expression over his face. Blackfoot and the other rookies’ jaws dropped as they stared at Jensen.

“YOU TRASH! I’LL TEACH YOU THE STRENGTH OF GLADIATORS OF FORTNER!”

The lion roared while moving towards Jensen. Bringing his fist back with extraordinary strength, he swung towards Jensen’s head.

“Stop.”

The gaudy woman commanded the gladiator to hold his hand. The paw ceased movement while centimeters from Jensen’s head. Jensen, who hadn’t flinched at the incoming attack, stared into the eyes of the beast. Taunting him further, the gladiator’s rage boiled.

“Do not worry, Leon. This boy clearly holds no respect for the House of Fortner, and that cannot go unpunished. However, I have a more interesting way of punishing him that a single knockout blow.”

The woman who had stopped the attack had done so for two reasons. First, Jensen was an incredibly expensive fighter. Having him die here would be an enormous waste of capital. Second, in order to properly demonstrate the strength of the House to the rookies, a match would be more appropriate.

“I have decided on your punishment. Jensen, step forward.”

Jensen, who disliked being ordered around, remained unmoving.

“Step. Forward.”

Unflinching, Jensen remained in place. ‘Jensen… you really are brave… or is this pure arrogance?’ Blackfoot had no clue as to the reason for Jensen’s decisions.

“Perhaps this is cowardice? Then, I will announce your opponent. Currently the strongest fighter in the House, she is but a woman. Surely, you aren’t so cowardly as to avoid a fight with a girl, right?”

The woman continued.

“Rain. Come forward.”