The white large crystal above the Coliseum illuminated the roaring spectators, wearing togas and sandals. They were rooting for both of the upstart human gladiator and the traitor to die in the most horrific way, eating or fucking either each other or naked slave-goblinettes.

Vladimir briefly thought that the old Roman culture must have looked something like that. His thoughts were interrupted by an incoming spear, held by the armoured, powerful fallen inquisitor. Someone, he could consider an ally even under these circumstances. He knew the goblin did not hold any kind of love for humans, but it seemed to stem more from the upbringing than from personal experience.

The shiny spear tip struck the gladius with a loud clang and the poison splattered, drops landing on Vladimir's arm. He already felt as the poison worked, the area slowly numbed. If Sou’Rek did not hold back, he would knock the sword out of Vlad's hand with ease.

Vladimir could also tell that the goblin was just playing. He did not aim at life-threatening regions, like the chest, neck, or crotch… Still, Vlad was only able to hardly dodge out of the spear’s way or deflect it with all his might.

The spectators were elated, seeing one of the gladiators struggling so hard. That made Kulgar happy too. Even though his instinct told him that the human was dangerous and should be put down, the innate greed, so common in the orc race, slowly took over his reasoning. Especially with his brother Dargan whispering into his ear to turn more profit. Ssirze The Book-Finder of course shared some of his newly acquired knowledge from the delirious lab-rat about quite revolutionary ideas ranging from macroeconomy, non-religious banks, stock markets to microeconomy. Naturally, for large shares of profit.

Sou’Rek suddenly faltered, the poison and the curse took their toll on his body. He coughed a little bit of black blood.

Vladimir used this opportunity to throw the bronze pipe, hitting him in the head, surprising the goblin. Then he ducked, took a handful of sand and threw it into his eyes, successfully blinding him.

It did not slow Sou’Rek down much, his senses were powerful enough to not rely only on sight. However, an abrupt thundering took away his hearing. The weather unexpectedly changed, heavy clouds appeared above them.

Then, a large figure appeared above. It had a female shape and was taller and wider than orcs, around three and a half metres. Her muscles bulged, her ample breasts jiggled as she stopped. Behind her back were two black-feathered wings, twelve metres long each. Two, slightly curved horns protruded up out of her forehead and three crimson-glowing eyes scanned the Coliseum.

Another thunder flashed and suddenly she was smaller, big as a human and her wings were gone. She ignored everything else and levitated down on the Kulgar’s lounge, who was grinning like the demented shaman that took too much of his herbs. His face slightly flushed dark green and he was ogling the beautiful devil with glazed, lustful eyes.

The whole Coliseum started to whisper after a brief halt of movement.

Meanwhile, Sou’Rek was madly coughing out the black blood. The thunder stopped and clouds cleared, his attributes were now only slightly higher than Vladimir.

They started to fight on more common ground, Vladimir able to defend himself and even attack a few times. He could not still hit him, but the training he went through in the last two weeks showed itself.

Sou’Rek changed the strategy, and went closer, using his spear as quarter-staff. He was able to hit Vladimir a few times, leaving nasty bruises.

The battle was in a stalemate, none of them could gain higher ground. Vladimir was bigger, his weight giving him an edge. On the other hand, the goblin was faster, slightly stronger and his old armour protected him well.

The crowd again was loudly rooting, and the new devil was sitting on the Kulgar’s lap, enjoying herself, while a goblin fed her with raw, still bloodied pieces of meat.

Vladimir and Sou’Rek were in a stand-off. Vladimir towering over the goblin holding his spear and pressing down, while the goblin resisted, holding Vladimir’s other wrist which was holding the gladius.

They looked at each other's eyes in understanding.

The man and the goblin released each other, jumped back and threw their weapons away.

The goblin looked at his vambraces, mostly at the emblem with a longing gaze and undressed his armour.

The crowd quieted, becoming stumped and asking about what was going on. Kulgar frowned, but the female devil took away all of his attention right now as he slowly but vigorously moved up and down.

“If they want a show,” the goblin madly grinned.

“Then let’s give them a show to remember!” Vladimir finished the sentence.

He felt invigorated and full of energy. He realized something big; he enjoyed the battle. It was completely different from the training he attended because he had to. This was not the same as a mere slaughter or training. This was a fight of gladiators. He knew it was rigged and the goblin was going to die anyway. Still, he savoured it.

Both roared and lunged forward. Kicks and fists flew without abandon as they forgot any kind of defence.

The crowd erupted. It was no longer mocking and ridiculing. It was a crowd enjoying the brutal fight. They forgot that it was only human vs traitor. That they were weak. The emotions behind their swings were real and the crowd responded to that.

Vladimir slowly understood what it meant to be a gladiator. It was not just slaughter and execution. It was a show and competition.

Sou’Rek felt the curse weakening him even more, slowing him down. He hated this, he hated the gladiators and hated this rigged situation. But at least, his second death would have some honour in it. The human before him was interesting. The man was grinning as if he was enjoying himself. He steeled himself in preparation for what was coming next.

Both were starting to breathe heavily, showing signs of exhaustion. Vladimir’s body was completely numbed and could not be properly controlled. He had to finish soon because he knew if he lost they both would die. And he doubted that they would resurrect him, like the goblin.

They clashed for the last time, falling in the coarse sand. They struggled, goblin bit the human in the shoulder, his teeth tore away a piece of flesh.

Vladimir roared, not in pain but primal rage as his instincts took over. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, fighting off the paralysis and the numbness. He hit him in the head with all the strength he could muster, then grabbed his neck. The goblin grimaced, his neck muscles bulged.

They changed position with Vladimir behind Sou’Reks back, holding him in a headlock and slightly hesitating.

“Do it!” The goblin yelled without fear.

Vlad's determination faltered. His hearing cleared and he heard the crowd stomping and chanting: “Death! Death! Death!”, in expectation.

He felt like someone was examining him right now very closely. It was a weird feeling, a slight tingling on his neck. He looked around and noticed the White Bastard and the female devil observing him. Both of them help some strange refined crystals before their eyes. He was too far away to analyse them.

“Onyx, can you stop absorbing energy from slain opponents?” He asked, just to be sure.

[Yes.]

A simple answer, but with great ramifications.

“Stop absorbing until I tell you,” he ordered.

[Essence absorption disabled]

“Fucking do it already!” The goblin wheezed, impatient to finally end this farce. Blood flowed from his mouth and his body was weak as the human when he first saw him.

Vladimir jerked his arms and snapped the goblin’s neck.

The crowd blissfully boomed.

This time Vladimir slowly stood up. His body quivered as the adrenalin retreated.

“Vlad The Traitor-Slayer!” Someone roared and the rest caught it. And thus a new gladiator emerged: Traitor-Slayer!

An opening in the wall appeared and a young bald orcette came from it accompanied by two guard-goblins with the loaded muskets. She was wearing a simple grey robe, with the Staumaz’s emblem on the chest area and held an alchemical steel staff with a small grey pearl on the top.

[Orcette, Priestess of Staumaz

Unable to scry: Reason: Strong divine radiation]

She paused a little and shot a glance around. Vlad internally smacked himself. They could feel it when he used [Analyser] on energy-cultivators. Fortunately, she did not know from where it came.

He could not even analyse any of her equipment. The radiation was too strong. He concluded he had to acquire magic or ki by himself.

The guard-goblins shoved Vladimir away to make the room. He felt trepidation. For the first time, he will watch a spell.

The priest stood above the dead fallen inquisitor. She derisively snorted and raised her staff.

“In the name of God of Steam, Staumaz I request thy soul to return!”

She chanted in a different language than the rest of the orcs spoke. It was different from the writing on the light crystal in the cell too. The arcane and divine languages were different, Vladimir realized. He could not wait to delve deep into the magic and laws of this new world.

The pearl lit up with white fire while clear steam culminated around the body. The tongues of fire entered the steam-covered body.

It took five minutes, but in the end, the body jerked as the steam disappeared back into the atmosphere. The neck narrowed and the spine was mended, but the rest of the wounds were not healed.

The priestess slightly faltered from the exhaustion, but delightedly grinned. Not only did she make a nice sum of gems today, but it always felt good to cast such a high-levelled spell. She always felt the touch of her patron, basking in His steam and fire.

Vladimir recorded everything he had seen in the Encyclopaedia and created a new library, named Divine Spells. Hopefully, after he gains enough power, he will be able to analyse it properly.

The priestess with her body-guards promptly left right after and Vladimir with his unconscious friend were left there.

Some of the orcs laughed at his confusion. He peered at Kulgar, questioning him what to do with his eyes.

He raised a finger and beckoned him to an alcove on the side. Two slave-goblins with buckets were waiting there for him, so he picked up Sou’Rek and threw him over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. He doubted that the goblin would appreciate if he would be carried like a princess.

Another realization came to Vladimir: he cared for the small, green menace. Even though they didn't know each other for too long, they went together through more than most of the people went through in their life. They shared food, bed and death. And frankly, Vladimir felt lonely. His scar for killing his mother, the death of his father and everything that happened in between still seared his mind.

Vladimir decided; the fallen inquisitor would not die again. He had to find a way. For himself and for this one. The revolutionaries grew stronger each day. Hopefully, they will be strong enough to break them out.

The alcove had a simple marble bench embedded in the wall. He slowly put Sou’Rek on it and sat down, relaxing his body. His whole body ached and the wounds he suffered in the fights started to call for attention to his mind.

The numbness went away as the poison filtered. He analysed the poison and realized that his human body was naturally resistant to this type. That was why he did not feel nauseated. Another mystery to be uncovered for later.

The slave-goblin opened a small medicine case he did not notice and handed him the same salve as Lar’Ako’s one. As the goblin moved he pushed the case towards Vladimir’s reach.

Vlad first spread the smelly salve all around his body. The cold soothed him and he groaned in delight. Then he quickly grabbed another salve from the case before the slave-goblin could react. While the goblin tried to get it back, he slowly winked at him. Vladimir understood the meaning and seemingly violently threw the goblin away. The goblins scurried away with haste.

The second sack of salve was spread on the goblin, hopefully alleviating him.

Soon, a second battle began. Vladimir turned to the two large orcs, recognizing them from yesterday. Both of them carried immense zweihanders, large enough even for them to be two-handed weapons. Both wore single shoulder armours with three spikes and Coolus helmets. They had naked bodies and only another armour were alchemical steel shin guards and closed leather boots. Their nether areas were covered with simple leather briefs. A few young orcettes whistled in appreciation as they clashed.

The clash was powerful enough to break the weapons, but they held.

[Zweihander

Adept-grade

Material: Steel, Unknown, Pigskin Leather (handle)]

Something was missing, but he could not figure out what. Enchantments? Some unknown ingredient?

Vladimir thought he would go insane. The amount of knowledge he was missing was driving him crazy.

“Ahh,” a groan behind him left the fallen inquisitor.

“Took you long enough, Sou’Rek,” Vladimir flatly said, while still watching the battle.