It was something beyond comprehension.

A weapon suddenly materialized in my hand.

But what was even harder to believe was—

This feeling, oddly familiar, as if I had done this countless times before.

[ T-This can’t be happening━━!! ]

As I was caught up in those strange emotions, panting in tension—

The previously silent crowd erupted with the commentator’s shout, triggered by Credos’ collapse.

“Waaaaaaa━!!”

“He, he did it!!”

“Holy crap!! Credos lost?! That’s Credos, the one who could rip apart a B-rank beast barehanded!! You gotta be kidding me!! This is a scam!!”

“Woohoo!! Upset win!! Drinks are on me tonight, you bastards!! Ahahaha!!”

The diverse reactions of the audience echoed around the arena, filling the air.

[ Unbelievable! The winner is the Western gladiator, ‘Odd Helmet,’ Peasant!! He has defeated Credos with a sword conjured by magic!! ]

‘…Magic?’

Listening to the commentator, I looked down at my hand.

Magic.

So the sword I had created out of thin air was some kind of magic?

Come to think of it, the woman who had given me this helmet also made it appear suddenly out of nowhere.

Perhaps it was something like that, a similar kind of magic.

But that didn't matter right now.

Anyway—

‘I… survived.’

Feeling a rush of emotion, I clenched my hand into a fist, then thrust it triumphantly into the air.

The sight of that seemed to energize the crowd, their cheers growing more and more frenzied, vibrating through the air.

━Waaaaaa!!

After the final match, I thought I would be taken back to the prison-like waiting room where I had been.

But I was wrong.

“Excuse me.”

Click.

A woman who looked like a maid elegantly set down a teacup in front of me.

Inside was not plain water but a cup of rich, aromatic tea.

The fragrance tickled my nose even before I picked up the cup.

“Th-Thank you.”

“If you need anything, please let me know.”

The maid showed no smile nor displeasure, simply a blank expression, as she silently withdrew.

‘Wait… Aren’t I a wanted criminal?’

This treatment felt far too luxurious for a criminal.

The lavish surroundings felt almost surreal.

Where exactly was I?

Everything around me was adorned with what appeared to be expensive decorations, and the sofa was so plush that I almost yelped when I sat down.

It was such a stark contrast to the cold prison cell.

“Um, why am I here?”

“Please wait until the master arrives.”

“Haah…”

Master?

Who could that be? The person she called her master.

Someone rich enough to own such a luxurious room in this blood-soaked coliseum.

What I imagined was a middle-aged man with a bulging belly, dark skin, and gold rings on every finger, puffing on a cigar as he made his entrance.

But that prediction missed its mark quite spectacularly.

“Greetings. I am Eorite, the owner of this coliseum, Perion.”

Sitting across from me, it was not a middle-aged man but a lady of noble bearing.

With a fan fluttering in her hand, a silver-haired beauty appeared before me.

Her gaze swept over me in an alluring yet piercing manner, as if she could see right through me.

Her graceful movements, as she sat down on the sofa, were composed and refined.

Even to an untrained observer, her actions exuded a natural elegance.

Yet, her attire seemed somewhat inappropriate for her demeanor.

She wore a luxurious dress, the top draped loosely enough to reveal her bare shoulders.

The resulting exposure made her ample cleavage entirely visible.

Thank goodness I was still wearing my helmet, or my wandering gaze might’ve given me away.

“Peasant… Wasn’t that the nickname given to you because of that helmet? What’s your real name?”

“Uh, well…”

She sipped her tea before immediately asking the question.

But I couldn’t answer easily.

After all, I didn’t even know my own name.

‘…Wait, do they not know my name either?’

Since she owned the coliseum, surely she knew I was a wanted man.

Did that mean I was an unknown criminal?

Anyway, there was only one answer I could give her.

“Just call me Peasant. Please.”

“Hmm… Alright. Judging by that helmet, it seems you’ve got your reasons.”

‘…Reasons?’

Reasons?

Of course, the helmet was to hide the face on the wanted posters, but does she not know that?

Or maybe she thinks that, since I’ve already been captured, there’s no point in hiding my face.

Either way, the fact that she wasn’t questioning the helmet was good for me.

I needed to keep this helmet on until I found a way out of here.

Eorite, who had been watching me closely, spoke gently.

“There are two reasons I brought you here.”

Two reasons?

What could they be?

Eorite answered my question with a casual raise of her index and middle fingers.

“The first is that I wanted to meet the rookie who defeated the champion.”

She curled her middle finger down.

“The second is to assess and make a decision about you.”

Finally, her index finger was lowered.

With a seductive smile, Eorite spread her fan open with a snap and covered her lips before asking—

“So, after meeting you, my decision is made. What do you say… would you like to become mine?”

“…Huh?”

It seemed she had summoned me here with the intent of scouting me.

“What do you mean by becoming yours?”

Despite my attempt to brush it off, my eyes kept wandering back to her bare skin.

The ample cleavage exposed above the dress—

Honestly, I was grateful for the helmet.

“What else could it mean? Obviously, I’m asking if you’d like to be my gladiator.”

Ah… So that’s what she meant.

“Do you mean becoming a gladiator? But I’m already a gladiator here, am I not?”

“Hm? You must be new. It seems you don’t know much.”

Snap.

Eorite folded her fan and pointed it at me.

“You’re currently a gladiatorial slave under Dalton’s Trading Company. That’s why you’ve been fighting for the western faction.”

It seemed there were different factions within the coliseum.

‘So if I understand correctly, all the gladiators called ‘Eastern’ were owned by this woman?’

The question about whether I would become her property seemed to stem from this.

But still, there was something I didn’t understand.

“…But, do I even have the right to choose, given I’m a gladiatorial slave?”

Isn’t this strange?

Eorite, the owner of the coliseum, was here to ask if I wanted to become her property.

She came to ask me.

…A question that should typically be posed to my current owner, not me.

“Uhuhu, what’s this? It seems you truly know nothing.”

Eorite laughed as if she found it amusing.

“Is there some reason behind it?”

“Of course. This is the reason why gladiators put their lives on the line to challenge the champion.”

Champion?

Now that I think about it, the three-meter giant I defeated was called the Eastern Champion.

So now that I’ve defeated him, does that make me the champion?

“Usually, the right to challenge the champion goes to the one who survives the tournament. Luckily for you, Dalton’s Merchant never expected you to win. So the event match was easily arranged.”

“…What exactly do you mean?”

“Hm, I’m explaining too much about our side of things. To put it simply—”

Her fan pointed toward me again.

“You, who defeated the champion and became the new champion, have gained the right to choose your master. It’s the rule here. It’s also why gladiatorial slaves aim for the championship.”

The right to choose one’s master…

A slave, with no rights, could earn one—

The right to choose their master.

‘No wonder any slave would risk their life for this.’

A powerful motivator.

And that motivation fuels the energy of the matches, which, in turn, ensures the crowd's entertainment.

A satisfied crowd means money.

A well-crafted system for a coliseum.

“So, what do you think? I can promise you that serving me will grant you privileges far better than those of a commoner.”

“…Better than a commoner? How so?”

It was hard for me to picture.

“Hm, take Credos, for instance… He had about six young women every day.”

“W-Women?”

“Huhu, what’s this? I see you have some interest in that too. Boys will be boys, after all.”

“No, no, it’s not that…”

“Or, perhaps… I’ve noticed you glancing at my chest. Could it be… that you desire me?”

This helmet is absolutely useless.

Caught off guard by her remark, my body stiffened as Eorite continued talking without pause.

“Sorry, but my body is somewhat… reserved. I must save my purity for more significant matters… But let’s see, yes…”

She extended her hand towards me again.

Three fingers spread out in front of me.

“If you manage to win about thirty matches, I might consider letting you have me?”

“N-No! That’s not what I meant! It’s, um…”

I was flustered, but at that moment—

Seeing her outstretched fingers, something suddenly flashed in my mind.

The confusion that had heated my head dissipated, and I stopped flailing my hands, settling calmly back onto the sofa.

Eorite tilted her head curiously, watching me in silence.

“Um… About those thirty victories… Does that mean I could earn something equivalent to even Eorite’s purity?”

Hearing my question, she smiled sweetly.

“Uhuhu, well, purely in monetary terms, it falls short… but yes, it would indeed be a considerable sum.”

A considerable sum.

Enough to buy even her purity, under the right conditions.

Thirty victories.

Two matches today.

Thirty matches like those life-and-death fights.

Could I achieve that?

Obviously, not because I wanted to sleep with Eorite.

The reason I was considering those thirty victories—

“…If I win thirty times, could you… perhaps grant me my freedom?”

—was because I was searching for another way out.

A path that might be safer than a desperate escape attempt.

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