Prologue Chapters 1 & 2 – Waking Up Underground

It was a dark basement. This space where the sun's rays shone in from a small overhead windows were finely punctuated by cells lined up in rows.

In this prison-like cell I laid down to rest.

I was only laying down, not sleeping.

It was because of a certain noise I wasn't able to sleep.

It was a noisy girl, it wouldn't have killed her to do it more quietly.

The sound I heard was a female voice, I can hear the sweet voice, appealing, by offering flattery perhaps, to gain some pleasure.

"Here" is where as usual, the wardens perused the goods they liked for themselves.

Nobody cared, and even if they do nobody would lift a finger.

I quickly threw the threadbare blanket…the flea-ridden piece of cloth on myself.

Before long the voices faded, and silence returned.

It won't be long until sunrise now, but I should get as much sleep as I can.

I closed my eyes, enjoying what short rest I can before dawn.

I came "here" before I was aware of what was going on.

When I realized it I was already here, I don't know where I was before I came here, nor did I know how I got here.

I myself said that my age was 13 or 14, but still, I don't know what it is exactly. As far as I could hear from the people who brought me up, they said I might have been sold by my parents, or maybe kidnapped by some robbers.

What this place "here" is can be clearly explained.

This was a place where boys and girls are gathered, and the perverted guests enjoy themselves by embracing them or making them kill each other.

I awoke to the coarse ringing sound of a bell and jumped to my feet.

The only thing I need to prepare was my own body.

Today is another day where I would have to battle for my life.

I left the small room, went to the mess room to fill myself with soup that looked like vomit, and awaited my orders.

"Finny, your guest is waiting upstairs so you hurry up and get a bath!"

"Dora! You're accompanying the ladies! You're allowed to receive money. Don't let them hit you for free!" «TN: てめえはご婦人の相手だ!金払いがいい,下手打ったらただじゃおかねえぞ!»

"Aegir! You'll be fighting. Hurry up and pick a weapon!"

The warden yelled and the kids gathered here dispersed.

This Aegir was me, it was a name that came out of some legend.

I got this name in a previous fight where I cut my opponent right in half from the top of his head to his crotch.

I don't quite catch the others' names, not that I'll remember them.

At any rate, they all soon die so remembering them is pointless.

The expression of the man I'll be fighting—though I call him a man he is only a boy not even 15 years old— changed when he was designated as my opponent.

The fight is in short, a match to the death, viewed by the guests.

The guests bet money, yell out cheers, and in the end enjoyed the gruesome spectacle.

There were not only one-on-one fights, but also off-color fights like fights against animals, or one-sidedly tormenting and killing little girls.

The reason why my opponent's expression changed was me.

Unlike the others, I am seldom taken by the guests.

I am muscular and I'm not short, not the type that the child-ravishing perverts like.

I don't have the manners and charm to keep the female guests company, either.

My job in "this place" is to fight, and when it comes to fighting, defeat means death.

The fights I have survived in "this place" numbered 100 battles and then some.

They took off my manacles and fetters and sent me off to fight.

The weapon in my hand is a greatsword familiar to me.

It was a two-handed double-edged sword, 1.2 meters long and probably over 10 kg in weight.

It looked clearly unsuitable for me who doesn't even reach 160 cm in height, but this blood-and-oil ridden sword with chipped blades is how I survived until now.

My opponent's weapon is a 60 cm long one-handed sword and a round leather shield.

Judging from how he took a stance and did trial swings with his sword, it wasn't his first time holding a sword.

However.

"You've picked the wrong equipment", I muttered in my head.

There is no way a leather shield can defend against my two-handed sword.

His only chance to win was to land a blow by jumping onto my chest.

Shields would only hinder his movements and vision.

Of course I didn't say that out loud.

The opponent is making it easier for me to kill him out of his own free will, after all.

The place is called the 'Great Hall', though no more than 20 people could go in at once.

In the middle of it there was an [arena] surrounded by iron fence.

Surrounding it, 10-odd chairs were laid down for the guests who were raising their voices, cheering and jeering.

Among them there are wardens wielding armor and spears, and the owner of "this place", a porcine-looking fat man.

With him around then there must be a VIP among the guests.

That was the case every time that pig does anything besides raping girls, eating, drinking, or counting money.

That's got nothing to do with me, though.

The pig was talking about how strong I am and how my opponent was going to face me.

He was exaggerating things, but with this the stakes are raised, so I can smile at that.

I simply faced my opponent.

There was nothing difficult about it.

If I win I can look forward to a tomorrow where I can eat as much as I like.

If I lose, then I'll die here, that's all.

I took a stance with my left foot forward and my sword resting on my right shoulder.

My opponent also braced with his shield and pointed the sword on his open side at me.

Well then, let the fight begin.

Will I kill, or will I be killed, we won't know until it's over.

The betting rounds closed at last and the great hall felt like it became prickling with tension.

This is a true fight to the death, if the guests were to watch this somewhere other than "this place" they would have to to resign their lives.

My opponent is about 3 meters away but I can hear his rough breathing from here.

If he's breathing roughly like this before fighting, how was he even hoping to win.

I calmly assessed the situation, without tension nor carelessness.

I don't have any physical defects that would become a handicap, either.

I am at the same condition as I was in my over 100 fights.