CHAPTER 442: THE COLOSSEUM ONCE MORE (2/2)
The Dwarf fight was your typical Dwarf who prided himself on his beard and had an old uncle’s face paired with a large nose. He wielded a double-handed iron hammer that was constantly flailing about in the air. The head of this hammer was a large rectangle, and its body was a long rod made entirely out of metal. If it was resting on the ground, its height would most likely tower over its wielder… Speaking of which, that fellow down is probably a whole head shorter than me. I have heard that Dwarves tended to be around the 150 cm range.
Because this Dwarf took part in the match as a slave gladiator, he had no armor provided at all. All he could rely on for defense was his gigantic hammer. Without any armor whatsoever, that also meant that he couldn’t afford to trade blows as every hit from his enemy was a bonafide injury.
Assassin were known for their one-hit kills. For an assassin, there was no better target than a warrior who did not have his armor on. Assuming, of course, that this assassin was able to land a hit on said warrior.
Unfortunately, the Dark Elven assassin below seemed to have been injured before this match and was moving oddly. Her waving daggers seemed slower than expected which led to her being hesitant about facing the Dwarf’s swinging hammer. Without a way to approach the Dwarf, she naturally had no way to land a strike either.
In contrast, the Dwarf was still fiercely waving his hammer about. The Dark Elven assassin had tried multiple times to break through this defense but failed. Without any other choice left, she had to duck about while she waited for an opportunity to strike.
Yet the Dwarves were a race known for their hardy constitution, and the Dwarf below was no exception either. Even after ten minutes of wild swinging, he showed barely any signs of tiring at all. In fact, he seemed to be getting faster by the second, forcing that Dark Elven assassin to leap away multiple times in order to avoid a hit.
Well, isn’t he an energetic Dwarf? I’m guessing they have been feeding their slave gladiators well in the colosseum. Also, rather than calling this place the colosseum, how about calling it a speed dating agency instead?
As long as the slave gladiator triumphed over his Dark Elven challenger, he had the option to have a go at her… really, is there even any other form of dating that is faster than this? Perhaps a brothel… but I guess the employees of a brothel relied more on their charms rather than their brawns.
Also, as a testing ground for potential breeding stock, it wouldn’t make much sense to starve the gladiators, else any form of contest would be pointless.
Honestly speaking, up till now, this match hadn’t been the most exciting of matches. Rather than cheering for the match itself, the audience were probably just excited by the bulging muscles of that Dwarf. According to the rules, the winner gets to have his way with the loser, and it was said that big noses tend to come paired with a big weiner… ahem.
Before the Dwarf tired out, the Dark Elven assassin likely wasn’t going to make her move. Such a fight of endurance was, putting it bluntly, boring. I turned to look at a visibly excited Paliseth and asked in a concerned voice, “I remember there were reports of Minotaurs and Harpies causing trouble at the south side. Are you sure it’s alright for you to be here with me now?”
“Your holiness’s matters are more important. Besides, the war on the south side is a small matter to begin with, don’t worry. Paliseth has already sent more reinforcements their way, and Zurnalin has full control of matters over there.” Realising that my mind wasn’t on the match below, she smiled and asked, “Does this match not entertain your holiness?”
“Well, I was never the type to get excited by such hotblooded stuff. Besides, I have another motive for being here.”
To be honest, I was here just for the souls.
“Another motive?” Paliseth merely nodded her head after giving this matter some thought. Without asking what that motive was at all, she called for one of the attendants and whispered something in her ear. With that done, she turned her attention back to the ring.
“Master, if you’re feeling bored… how about telling Jezsere some stories from your past?” Jezsere leaned in at that point, eyes practically shining with curiosity and expectation. “Jezsere still doesn’t know much about master.”
“You really are an adorable one, aren’t you.” I gently flicked her on her nose then under her slightly dissatisfied gaze, began recounting in earnest. “Honestly, there’s really nothing much to say about my past. Before becoming a Devil, I was just an ordinary human who ended up dying to save a young Fallen Angel girl. After dying, that Fallen Angel sent my soul to Hell where I was reborn as a Devil…”