Rise of the Blood Prince: From Slave to Emperor

"Did you hear that story?"

"What story?"

"They say some crazy guy showed up in District 3?"

"Crazy guy?"

Two men were having a conversation while eating grilled skewers. They were workers from Airs. The place they were at was Airs' food street.

Since chairs and tables were provided, you could buy food nearby and bring it to eat. Since it was a little past lunch time, there weren't that many people on the street.

"Yeah. They say District 3 is going crazy because of that lately."

"New gladiators showing up is always happening... but why?"

"That crazy bastard fights matches drunk."

"Drunk? Well, having a drink or so happens pretty often. So what?"

"It's not that level. You know Luban liquor, right?"

"Luban liquor? That's not liquor, it's poison."

"Exactly. Anyway, in his last match, he supposedly downed a whole bottle at once before fighting."

"What? That's ridiculous. Is there anyone here who hasn't tried Luban liquor? How could you down that all at once? You need to say things that make sense."

"Right? I was thinking the same thing."

"That's really true."

A newly joined man said this as he sat down at the next seat. He was holding food made by wrapping bread and meat together.

"It's really true?"

"I was so curious because it was so unusual. I went to see the day before yesterday. It's real. That bastard really fights drunk."

"Wasn't it water?"

"It's really true, I'm telling you. That bastard has his own unique performance. Before entering the arena, he downs the liquor in one shot at the entrance. Then you know what happens."

"What happens?"

"The women go crazy."

"Go crazy? Why?"

"Why do you think? Because he's fucking handsome. Bring all the actors in Airs and see. They probably wouldn't even compare."

"He's that handsome?"

"Yeah. Really handsome. From what I hear, all the rich people in Airs are making inquiries behind the scenes because they want to buy him. There are even cases where they say it's fine if he's not for sale, just let them spend one night with him."

"Damn... I need to go see a match this time. He's that handsome?"

"That's what I'm saying."

"Then he'll quit the arena soon, right?"

"That's not it. What kind of place is this? Airs, the city of gladiators. Once you're set as a gladiator slave, that's where your fate is decided. Are arena owners ordinary people? They're the type who'd protect that even if a knife came to their throat. Airs' rules."

"Which arena is that? Was it the Rocom family's arena?"

"Yeah. Rocom. He's probably really burning inside right now. They say really big offers are coming in."

"Can't he just sell?"

"Then Rocom would have to quit the arena business. Would he just quit the business? The association probably wouldn't stay quiet either. If they start overlooking things that get twisted like that, everything goes wrong. Frankly, if everyone could use such loopholes, who would trust going there to bet money? You could manipulate anything."

"Right. That's enough of that. Tell me more about that drinking gladiator slave. So he drinks and then?"

"Right. He just downs the liquor. And that's when it gets really good. He throws the bottle at the spectator stands."

"Throws it?"

"Yeah. Sometimes it breaks, but this time it didn't. Someone in the crowd caught it. And they drink the liquor left in the bottle. Then you'd know, right? Whether it's liquor or water. But it's liquor. Really strong Luban liquor too."

"Isn't Luban liquor not so much strong as just garbage?"

"That's the same thing. Either way, drinking it makes it poison."

"So after drinking that whole bottle?"

"What do you mean 'so'? After drinking that whole bottle, he walks staggering slightly. Step by step."

"And then?"

"Then he fights. The match. In the beginning, he staggers around getting beat up badly. But at some point he comes to his senses and counterattacks. But that's also weird. He counterattacks in a strange way. And the opponent goes down."

"Must be a rock fist."

"It's a rock fist. Really, the saying 'goes down in one hit' is perfect for it. His endurance is incredible too. He staggers around getting beaten for a while, but later walks out just fine."

"That's interesting."

"Go see this time. It must be something for rumors to come out that the vengeful spirit of a ruined kingdom has possessed his fists."

"Is he big?"

"No. He's slender. That's what makes it even more amazing."

Liscal, who had come out for lunch, smiled bitterly while listening to the men's conversation. The reason it was a bitter smile was that there was nothing wrong with what those men were saying.

'This is driving me crazy. At this level, the rumors must have already spread throughout the entire region, right?'

Liscal got up without even finishing his food.

==

Aslan really drinks alcohol and fights matches.

And he wins.

He'd already won his seventh match in a row.

Was the schedule relaxed?

That wasn't it either.

Liscal had deliberately set a very tight schedule. There were days when he fought two days in a row.

Then were his opponents weak?

That wasn't it either.

From the third match onward, he only put in real fighters who had properly learned boxing. Among them was even the top student of boxing king Baskun.

Especially the last match was set up by borrowing the fighter considered the best in boxing matches throughout all of Airs.

But that supposedly best boxer ended up with a broken jawbone and it was unknown when he'd make a comeback.

'I'm going crazy.'

"Showing kindness after the match with Abei wasn't the right thing to do..."

Liscal let out a bitter soliloquy. The match with Abei was really excellent. That's why he used his authority to allow proper medicine to be used. Thanks to that, Aslan quickly returned to his original clean appearance as if he'd never been injured.

It was rare for someone to heal so cleanly even with medicine, but Aslan returned to his original state as if he were a lizard or something.

Since then, continuous victories.

He'd shown kindness being impressed by the match, but the aftermath was really hitting. The pressure from above had gotten stronger.

He was managing to hold out by making excuses somehow, but even now was a problem. After lunch, he had to meet Rocom, the arena owner.

Leaving his complicated feelings behind, he returned to the arena. He'd eaten outside for the first time in a while because he had no appetite, but it wasn't satisfying at all.

As expected, as soon as he returned, there was a summons from Rocom. Liscal moved in a state of high tension.

"Liscal."

"Yes, master."

"The pressure from clients is coming in pretty hard, huh? You know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Yes."

"No need for long words. Who would have known Aslan would do this well... but not recognizing that ability is your fault too, anyway. You know?"

"Yes. I know. I'll accept any punishment gracefully."

"Would I punish you over just that one thing? I know how much you've devoted yourself. But the Aslan matter has become too difficult to just let slide now."

"Then..."

"Put him in combat matches."

"Combat matches are..."

"I know. He's still youth division so he can't be sent to combat matches."

"Yes."

"But this is possible. Putting similar age groups together."

"Are you saying you'll establish combat matches within youth division?"

"Right. I've already finished talking with the business owners in District 3."

"They..."

"It's not a losing proposition for them either. Thanks to that Aslan bastard, there's been a lot of interest in youth division matches that were only recognized as open matches."

Youth division matches.

In other words, the youth division under 16 could only participate in boxing matches. In the past, there were no such restrictions and adults and children fought life-or-death matches with weapons, but now such cruel matches were being limited. Because that way, gladiator slaves would die less.

"Yes. It's true that interest has increased. Even when I went out for lunch today, stories about Aslan were going around."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"He is an interesting guy. Hehe."

Rocom was a strict old man. His face was full of wrinkles. But his eyes and actions didn't seem like those of an old person. His appearance was like that too. He was very tall and his back was straight.

"Drink."

When Rocom gestured, a servant went to Liscal and lowered his posture. Since he didn't say to sit in a chair, Liscal remained standing, and the servant knelt on one knee so Liscal could receive tea. Liscal accepted the teacup.

"Thank you."

"So since the youth division matches have gained vitality, District 3 will have combat sports in youth division too. Combat sports are different. Combat sports. Different from boxing. Right?"

"Yes. They're different. Very different."

Liscal said with a meaningful expression.

"Anyway, that's how it'll proceed from now on. Tell that Aslan bastard too."

"Yes. I understand."

"Boxing would have been better for that guy... As you know, combat has much more intense aspects than that, right? When you die, it's much more painful too. Right?"

Rocom asked. Liscal was savoring the sweet tea.

"That's right. But one thing that concerns me..."

"What concerns you?"

"Most people who can properly do combat are at least older than youth division."

"We're putting him with peers, it's not a youth division match. Something like under 20? We'll be establishing that kind of division. It's not just us doing it, all of District 3 agreed to do it, so there won't be any backlash."

There couldn't be no backlash. But since it wasn't just Rocom Arena doing it alone, but all of District 3 implementing it, they'd have enough power to suppress it.

"I see."

"But that Aslan guy."

"Yes."

"Is he really just tough?"

"What do you mean by that..."

"Where's that guy from? Maran, right. Maran. The kingdom of magic."

"That's right."

"Isn't he using magic or something? At the very least, mana breathing."

"If there were traces of magic, the referee would have noticed, and it would have been caught by the magic detector. And if he'd used mana breathing, light would definitely flow from his eyes. No matter how small an amount he used, we wouldn't have missed that."

"That's true. If that were the case, there's no way it wouldn't have been caught."

"That's right."

"Even so, isn't it too strange?"

"Sometimes there are such types. Types born with divine strength. There are cases where they became Flame Knights with that innate divine strength, aren't there?"

Liscal said. Then Rocom chuckled.

"Hehe. Liscal, you sometimes tend to believe rumors too much."

"Excuse me? What do you mean by that?"

"Do you think one can become a Flame Knight with innate divine strength?"

"Are you saying it's an exaggerated rumor?"

"I've seen a Flame Knight fight. It was truly... no, I thought it was fortunate he was an Imperial citizen. Even just a knight is like that. You know what kind of power a knight who properly uses mana breathing has, don't you? But becoming a Flame Knight, the pinnacle of knights, with just innate divine strength?"

"It was an exaggerated rumor."

"I'm convinced of that. So are you saying Aslan is that kind of case?"

"Yes. Aslan seems to be that type."

"But nobody knew about it?"

"There would have been no reason to use it. He's not from anywhere else but the Maran Kingdom, and wasn't he a crown prince there?"

"Hehe... No matter how much the Maran Kingdom was where magic was extremely developed, a crown prince never once held a sword until that age? I just can't understand it."

"There seems to be some secret... but at least it didn't seem to be related to magic."

"Hmm... Anyway, keep a close watch. I think there's something. Something..."