Test [1]

After the six slaves were placed back in solitary confinement, the training grounds began to fill with gladiators.

It was training time.

Slaves who had recently become gladiators moved rocks, climbed high walls, and repeated various strength exercises.

Judging by the skillful movement of rocks and trees that seemed heavy at first glance, it was clear they had trained for more than just a few days.

Percussion!

Crack!

On one side, they learned and repeatedly mastered various attack and defense techniques according to the supervisor's orders.

Skilled gladiators engaged in interpersonal combat, switching opponents with the wooden swords they were provided with and various practice weapons.

Highly trained gladiators' sharp attacks, quick reactions, sharp surprise attacks, and strong defenses were unfolding here and there.

Eren was sitting in the middle of the cell, looking out the cage.

It seemed like he was just sitting there idly, but in fact, it was quite the opposite.

His five sensitive senses were being maximized.

He captured every single sight of the sparring between skilled gladiators in his mind.

Their every movement was clearly visible.

At the same time, he naturally changed and developed his movements according to his body type, and even created a virtual opponent and imagined himself sparring.

Although he had many thoughts at once, they were not tangled or blocked.

Once he saw a movement, he never forgot it and skillfully changed it to fit the situation.

He was so focused that sweat began to bead on his forehead, but to his adjutants, he just looked like he was suffering.

The training ended only when the sun set in the west.

As the gladiators went down to their underground quarters, Eren was able to gently close his eyes and rest.

Of course, he couldn't imagine a comfortable rest.

The bloody smell of being cut in solitary confinement persistently tormented him.

Tuk!

At that time, a bowl filled with hard bread and soup came into the slot under the bars.

Although they were called slaves, if raised properly, they were a valuable resource that could be sent to the capital's Colosseum, not Palemon's Helum Arena.

A basic environment had to be provided.

In fact, gladiators who were recognized for their skills had private rooms, ate meat, and even occasionally invited women to join them.

For Eren, it was a perfect opportunity to replenish his stamina.

Of course, it could not be compared to the food he ate while accompanying his parents to the mercenary army, but considering that he had starved while being sold as a slave, it was quite luxurious.

Eren did his best to regain his strength by chewing the hard bread.

The next morning, after eating a hearty breakfast, the gladiators came out to the entrance of the training ground and chatted with someone, exchanging notes.

Among them, Gletch and Utahlo were also seen.

"I'll bet the little devil three hundred shillings,"

Utahlo said, handing a note to a thin man who looked like a weasel.

The man looked at him as if slightly surprised.

"What's going on, Utahlo?"

"What is the magnification?"

When Utahlo asked directly, the man calculated the money he had saved and said

"Let's see… the little devil is five times that."

"Good."

Eren was already called a little devil among them.

Then Gletch, who was leaning against the pillar next to him, narrowed his eyes and asked,

"What? Did you bet on the kid? Yesterday, you said he looked like he was going to die at any moment. I bet on the third yellow head over there. He looks strong even at a glance."

"Well, we'll see."

Utahlo looked at the training ground with an unknown smile.

There were six slaves standing there with chains tied to large logs around their necks.

Eren, the smallest, had to drag a log as tall as himself.

***

On the second-floor terrace overlooking the training center, Altanic and Batia were sitting on chairs today as usual, looking down at Eren with expectant eyes.

Of course, each person's expectations were slightly different.

If Batia was interested simply out of opposition to Montecorato, Altanic, on the other hand, was interested in Eren purely for money.

He was already the richest man in Palemon, but there was one thing he couldn't get: identity.

Although he had lived in great power as the manager of Palemon for generations, he had been looked down upon by nobles as a barbarian from the frontier.

So, he tried to raise his status by marrying his daughter to a nobleman.

It was natural that a huge amount of wealth was needed to successfully marry a nobleman.

If Eren showed true talent as a gladiator and was raised properly, Palemon would raise a lot of money.

If lucky, he could win astronomical sums at the capital's Colosseum.

The greed of those who have money is endless. Altanic raised one hand. It meant to start.

Wow!

Then the overseer swung his whip at the six slaves once and shouted,

"The test you must pass today is physical strength, persistence, and mental strength. Each person must drag a log and circle the training ground 100 times! The time limit is before the sun sets! Those who fall behind will be taken to the arena and become food!"

No slave is taken to the arena as prey and returns alive.

That was something that even slaves who had never been there before could expect.

At the overseer's words, the slaves dragged the log and were overcome with despair. The weight of the tree was considerable.

However, only Eren was watching the two with his eyes fixed on the second floor.

'All of this is done by those two guys.'

Eren's facial muscles twitched slightly.

Batia, who had been looking at the other slaves for a moment, felt eyes on him and when he looked at Eren, he had already started walking around the training ground, dragging a log.

Each deputy came together to count the number of times, and the supervisor called the gladiators to the training ground and began training.

While the gladiators were training, they glanced at the slaves and watched with interest to see who would survive.

It was one of the few things to enjoy in the life of a bloody gladiator who never knew when he would die.

Batia looked closely at Eren walking around the training ground.

He was at the very back, struggling to pull a log. Since the other slaves were in their late teens or early twenties and had already grown up, Eren had no choice but to be pushed out.

After a few laps of falling behind, the gladiators' interest in Eren decreased significantly.

They had witnessed many slaves being tested. Eren already thought it was a speculative move.

But Batia thought differently.

'It's little by little, but he's getting the hang of it.'

His eyes shone strangely.

This was because he saw a possibility in Eren's movements.

Eren shortened the chain and raised one side of the log slightly to reduce the area in contact with the ground.

Then, there was less friction and it felt much lighter. Then, he took short, even breaths and moved forward at a steady pace, repeating each step.

It was slower, but he felt much less tired. His unfocused eyes were becoming a little clearer.

Eren was now concentrating with all his might and trying his best to overcome his unfavorable physique.

However, Altanic, who did not know that, stood up with a bored expression on his face after some time had passed.

There was no sign of Eren striking out.