Dragon's Tale 48

After my victory, I walked toward the tunnel entrance I had used earlier, among the deafening cheers of the audience. I was especially interested in the gaze of the female part of the audience, of course, especially if they were sitting on the most distinguished part of the Colosseum. After all, the whole point was to use that as an opportunity to sneak into their libraries. 

However, just as I was about to slip inside the tunnel, I felt a coldness on my neck, one that reminded the sensation whenever I faced a monster back in the mountain, though not necessarily one strong enough to threaten me. 

I turned back, only to meet the eyes of a young man, probably in his early twenties, looking at me like angry eyes. It wasn’t the first time I met such eyes. I had the occasional noble boy looking at me like that when I humiliated them —a rare occasion due to the fact that I was trying to keep a low profile— silently promising that they would make me pay. I didn’t fear such overgrown idiots back then, and I didn’t fear him now. 

There was a limit to what a puffed-up noble could do. 

Even more ridiculous was the reason for his anger. A red-haired beauty was sitting next to him, looking at me with an undisguised aroused expression. Considering the enforced distance between them, I had a feeling that his angry look was highly related to the gaze she was sending to my way. So, I winked at her which made her blush, then I smirked in his way that silently conveyed I was better than him before leaving. 

I felt my neck crawling even more strongly as I stepped into the darkness of the tunnel, but the intensity didn’t bring any more pressure. I was confident that I could handle whatever that man could bring. 

However, my confidence didn’t maintain its unwavering state for long. 

The change came as I walked deeper into the tunnel, only for my body to react differently. This time, it wasn’t a crawl on my neck, but a sudden quickening of my blood flow, followed by my muscles tensing, preparing me to fight, or even escape if necessary. 

I was facing true danger. 

It took a moment for me to notice a shadow in the corner, which, considering my senses, a scary achievement. “So, you’re a new talent that kid Antonius found. So lucky of him,” he said. 

There was nothing threatening in his tone. He sounded like a kindly old man. And when he stepped out of the shadow, I got a better view of him. He was a man in his sixties or seventies, frail-looking, absent of any weapon. He wasn’t carrying any sort of weapon, nor did I felt any apparent magical pressure. 

Still, my body continued to react the same way it did when I faced the pack of ethereal wolves. Not impossible to handle, but just a moment of oversight 

Before I could answer, the familiar figure of Antonius walked forward. “I see that you’re enthusiastic about meeting my gladiators, Master Cato,” he said. His tone was mild, but the pressure I felt from was no less intimidating than the pressure generated by Master Cato. 

“You know that I enjoy meeting with the new talents,” Cato said softly, threatening to explode. “In that vein, I heard about the accident your other gladiator suffered. Was that the third, or the fourth gladiator you lost this month to food poisoning? I hope this one survives.” 

“Thank you for your concern, Master Cato, but Ludus Dacicus could handle itself.” 

“Don’t be shy, boy. Your master is like a brother to me. Too bad that he’s still in a coma. How long it has been. Five years?” he said in a kind, grandfatherly voice. Well, technically grandfatherly, but only due to my own grandfather, who thought that a bunch of exercises designed for gladiators was the perfect way to train a seven-year-old. 

“I’m sure that my master would like to visit you once he recovers,” Antonius answered. I had to admit, I respected his calmness. He managed to hide his anger except for the way he tightened his grip around his dagger. “Anyway, Master Cato. We need to leave for celebrations, if you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t mind,” Cato said with a snicker. “I know how rare for your school to celebrate something. I shouldn’t interrupt that.” With that, he stepped into the shadows and disappeared from the view, his presence fading as well. A few seconds later, his presence disappeared completely. 

“What a kind old man,” I said, not bothering to suppress my sarcasm. My joke fell on deaf ears, as Antonius walked forward, each step slamming hard, trying to suppress his anger. Unsuccessfully, I might add, as after taking a few steps, he stopped and started punching the wall, hard enough to crack his knuckles. The magically reinforced stones of the Colosseum, however, survived without the slightest crack.

I decided to stay silent as he tried to suppress his anger, though didn’t bother asking anything, mostly because I had enough problems to deal with without delving into plots of dangerous old men. I knew just how formidable they could be. Hopefully, I would be able to finish with the school before whatever disagreement they were having spread to me…

The moment we left the tunnel, four bodyguards surrounded us, their tenseness suggesting that my expectations might be too far on the optimistic side in terms of my expectations. Antonius said nothing until we arrived at the training area, only to give a generic celebratory speech, officially designating me as one of the gladiators of the school before fading into the background. 

Admittedly, the rest of the celebration was fun, mostly because of the impressive spread of alcohol selection, accompanied by piles of roasted meat… It seemed that my unexpected victory brought much-needed levity to the rest of the gladiators, who were clearly aware of the sacrificial nature of my fight. 

The celebration raged on, I noticed that with every refill, my drinks were getting more and more diluted, but despite that, my blood was flowing faster and faster. It wasn’t hard to recognize that my drinks were being spiked with aphrodisiac. 

The reason for that was revealed by my trainer Pico as the celebration started to wind down. “You’re lucky boy, you’re going to visit the house of House Servilia.” 

That put a smile on my face. House Servilia was one of the minor Patrician families, with limited political presence, but their history was one of the more decorated ones, meaning there was a high chance that their library would contain some interesting stuff. 

I listened as Pico gave me a detailed breakdown on how to act, essentially telling me to lean on my barbarian identity, but with several lines not to cross. Apparently, noble ladies really liked an illusion of savagery of the gladiators, but only when it’s the illusion. 

As Pico continued to explain, several servants carefully washed and dressed me, even using an impressive amount of perfume that reminded me of a forest. Apparently, the gladiator school was even more prepared for such occasions than I expected. 

It was going to be an interesting visit…