20 New Blood?

"You are Sturm? Edgar seems to have made a good investment. You are uninjured, so you will keep fighting. There are five more fights, and then it will be your turn again."

A different guard from the one at the entrance received Sturm to inform him of his ensuing fights. The Overseer said that the slaves' injuries should not reach a point that would hinder them from doing their work in the quarry, but that did not apply to the combat slaves. Slaves had to fight until they fought five fights or were physically unable to go on and had to be dragged out. In the rare case that someone won the fights, he would receive additional prestige and advantages.

The five-fight rule was applied so rarely that most considered it another form of torture. Give the slaves hope, but never let them reach it. But what the new future combat slaves had not been told was that starting today, losers had to work in the quarry for the rest of the day. Not even the veteran combat slaves knew this, as this was an arrangement to reach the necessary quota.

Three hours later, the fights were over and posed no problem whatsoever for Sturm. In the last battle, he fought one of the more experienced teenagers who was already considered a full-fledged combat slave. The fight proved a little bit more interesting due to the far longer range the teenager had.

There were many ways to counter a reach disadvantage, but the most fun out of them was a Mike Tyson style bob and weave. Delivering hooks from a close range to destroy kidneys and livers was Sturm's joy of life.

After achieving five consecutive wins, the rewards were free time for the rest of the day, a piece of regular bread, and a can of clean water. If Sturm had not met Edgar, these resources would be like sweet nectar found in promised lands. Now it was just a nice addition for him to have.

When Sturm went to the bored guard at the counter to receive said rewards, he had a surprising encounter.

"Hey! Boy! Remember me? I am the senior that taught you everything about being a combat slave. Remember me?"

"Oh, you're One E… *cough* Haktru…"

<<Phew, that was close. I almost called him One Ear to his face. Heard he does not like that nickname too much.>>

"Haktruknamanan, exactly! Listen, if someone helps you, then you obviously repay him, right?" One Ear asked.

Evidently, he wanted something, which in Sturm's opinion was fine as long as he did not overreach it. One Ear really had helped him, after all.

"What do you want?"

One Ear brightened up. He had expected immediate rejection. Most people who did better for themselves suddenly had a distinct aversion to people that reminded them of how they did before their success. It was something he experienced with every single combat slave that had been promoted to fight in the town.

"You know, it is my dream to be able to fight in the town, but I am just too unlucky! Yesterday I fought Hotmin Lee. He is known for his quick kicks and could certainly be a gladiator if he wanted. Then the day before that, it was Mochap. His chops can split rocks. How am I supposed to win against such a freak? Then…"

"Enough. Please get on with it."

The man would just keep talking if no one stopped him. While winning five fights meant he had the evening free for himself, there were better ways to use his time than listening to One Ear's rants.

"So as you can see, even though I am talented and totally hardworking and I mean I should be a gladiator and not just that I mean I could fight a bear if I really wanted to, but…"

*Cough*

There was no cure for One Ear's disease, but when he saw Sturm being visibly annoyed, he finally got his shit together.

"Please let me train with you and Reinhardt. I saw your last fights, and you didn't even break a sweat. It was like whoosh, and then you just bam, and then it was over. It reminds me of the time I fought a walrus. It was crazy you should have seen ..."

Finally, it reached a point where patience and willpower were not a solution anymore. It was a lethal weapon that many bored homemakers had perfected on Earth, but even they couldn't compare to this endlessly blabbering combat slave. It reached a point where Sturm asked himself if One Ear won his fights by making his opponents knock themselves out.

Consequently, he turned around and started to leave. One Ear knew this was maybe his last opportunity to improve his situation, which made him extremely nervous and talk even more than he usually did.

<<Damn. Why do I always talk too much? This is my last chance.>>

There was no way he could let his only hope walk away like that. Haktruk went after Sturm and grabbed towards his shoulder. At one moment, he reached towards the young combat genius, and in the next moment, he was suddenly staring at the sky.

<<Huh. What happened?>>

He couldn't understand what had happened, as it was just too fast. An outsider would have seen Sturm grab One Ear's arm and throw him over his shoulder without ever looking behind.

"Come with me. I cannot promise you anything. It will depend on Edgar if you can join my training or not. Our guard captain, Reinhardt, has to agree as well. But let me warn you now. If you annoy Reinhardt, then you will think your life as a combat slave has been paradise on Earth."

"Earth? Do you mean the ground? I mean, it is mostly sandy around here, so I wouldn't exactly call it earth… OH"

When One Ear noticed that he did it again, the blabbering slave covered his mouth with his hands and bowed several times to apologize. He thought about Sturm's warning and decided to take it seriously, but what he didn't know was how important that advice was.

The duo arrived at the place Edgar's cart usually was, but neither the carriage nor Edgar could be seen anywhere.

<<They probably went to the town.>>

"Um. Sturm, what now?"

<<I do not know if Edgar will accept this guy, but even if he doesn't, maybe he can help me with my training later.>>

"Run."

Most combat slaves took sparring and strength training seriously, but they rarely gave cardio any importance. Fights were intense but usually very short, so being able to fight three minutes was enough.

"Huh? Run?"

"Yes. You will run until I tell you to stop. If you can't even do that much, then please leave."

"Alright, alright. Can you talk to the guards to take off my shackles as they did for you? And where should I run?"

"No, those cuffs stay on. Just run along the palisade until you reach the northern quarry, then you run back. No stopping and no resting. Now go."

One Ear obediently did as he was told and started running. He was going to run until dusk. He just didn't know yet. Now Sturm was alone and had some free time; it had been a while since he last was in a similar situation. What should he do? Relax? Study? Train? Relaxing was out of the question. Since time was precious and he already did enough studying and physical training, he shouldn't overexert himself either.

In the end, he decided on meditation. Even though the fights had been easy, they were still proper fights and could not compare to sparring. Reflecting on his performance, the enemies' movements, and possible ways to adapt and improve would help solidify his Art of the Nine Pillars' current state.