A Mythical Journey To Remember - Chapter 28

Chapter 28 - The Colosseum

My employees had worked hard and earned me a lot of money, so I decided to reward them with tickets. However, it must be acknowledged that our departure from the city was unauthorized...

If I were to be honest with myself, being in ancient times meant visiting the Colosseum was a must. It was one of those things you had to experience, like a bucket list item. If someone lived in times like these they would miss out on a lot if they didn't visit the Colosseum or have naked statues made of them.

Nevertheless, entertainment in this world was atrocious and desperately needed improvement.

Entering the building where we were staying, I noticed Auto and Billy the goat engaging in a peculiar playfight, both on all fours and butting their heads. Budas refereed from the sidelines. "Auto, don't hit Billy!"

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, counted to three in my head, and opened them again. It was undeniable—this was real, not some bizarre hallucination. How did things come to this? I couldn't fathom an explanation. So I did what I thought was best—and ignored whatever they were doing. Still, it was impressive how Billy had brought someone down to his level, where he would be able to absolutely destroy them.

"Everyone, I've purchased Colosseum tickets for us all," I announced, displaying the iron rods.

"A Colosseum!" Budas' eyes gleamed. "I've always heard tales of legendary gladiators!"

"Wow! We can even place bets there!" Auto exclaimed.

"Baaaa!" Billy made goat noises.

"No, you can't gamble," I said firmly, giving Auto a stern look. Bad habits can haunt her for the rest of her life if she develops them when she's young.

"Baaaa!" Billy nudged his head toward me, trying to convey something. Though I couldn't understand his message, I crouched down and petted the little guy.

"Who's a good boy? Yes, you are," I rubbed his head, and he initially enjoyed it, but kept trying to communicate something.

Afterward, we changed into fresh clothes that didn't reek of grass and the weeks we spent on the road without access to showers or clean clothes. We didn't dress extravagantly to avoid drawing attention and potential theft, but we appeared neat and tidy.

I wore simple gray attire, Auto wore brown pants and a green shirt, and Budas sported a leather tank top, leather pants, and boots, resembling a guardian warrior of the land.

We then made our way towards the Colosseum. Despite the relatively short time since my departure, several more street shops had sprung up along the way.

"They say that the Colosseum lasts for multiple days, and it seems we're already on the second day," Budas explained as he conversed with some vendors. Surprisingly, despite his past as a bandit, Budas got along well with city people. There was something about him that made it feel like he posed no threat. Or maybe that was just me, and the vendors felt too intimidated to speak their minds.

While Budas appeared interested in the commercial side of the Colosseum, Auto insisted, "Hey, we should go in already, or all the good seats will be taken."

I nodded, and we walked in. However, the guard at the entrance looked at me and then glanced at the goat in my arms. "No animals allowed."

With a smile, I handed him my ticket along with five bronze coins and asked, "What animal? This is my grandfather cursed by a witch. Unless he experiences all the things the world has to offer, he will remain a goat."

The guard maintained an expressionless look and waved us through. "Whatever, just get in already."

"You're terrible at bribing people," Auto couldn't help but comment.

"Well, in my defense, I haven't been doing this for long," I retorted.

We entered the Colosseum and found some good seats in the third row. Throughout our time here, a man hollered about the upcoming bloodbath.

"How is it economically viable to train, feed, and clothe these slaves and then have them die?" I wondered aloud.

"Probably by selling dolls and other merchandise," Auto shrugged, while Budas shook his head. Neither of them seemed interested in colosseum economics.

Even if they made enough money from ticket sales or merchandise, wouldn't it be more beneficial to keep the gladiators alive so they could continue fighting? Perhaps that concept hadn't yet emerged, which was peculiar. But regardless, I wasn't here to impose my views on these people; the gladiators were treated like celebrities, and I even spotted some of them strolling about in the market with people following them everywhere like hardcore fans.

"I believe one of the vendors mentioned that one of the gladiators sponsored a fish market stall," Budas chimed in, attempting to be helpful.

"Good people of Tiryns, I now present to you the champion of the day! Arknalt of Tiryns, who once served as a soldier but due to a gambling debt was forced into slavery. He has been a gladiator for only two years but has already achieved twenty consecutive wins, never even breaking a sweat against his opponents!" the announcer bellowed with a booming voice, narrating the gladiator's journey.

It was an intriguing story, though I couldn't be certain of its veracity. It could be similar to those WWE narratives designed to rile up the crowd.

"Now, before we introduce Arknalt's opponent, I would like for the people to direct their attention to the balcony above me. The King of Tiryns has graced us with his presence, accompanied by his son and nephew!"

The king, a man with gray hair and hints of his dark beard also turning gray, had sunken eyes and appeared sick. Standing beside him were two teenagers who calmly observed the crowd, though they didn't seem particularly close despite being cousins.

"Now, for the opponent you've all been waiting for! Liam the LION!" he shouted, and a lion burst out from the other side. As the handlers released it from its chain, they quickly retreated.

Arknalt's eyes widened as he caught sight of his opponent, clearly caught off guard. The beast possessed a sharp gaze, each breath making it appear even larger as its rippling muscles twitched, ready to pounce.

However, despite his initial surprise, Arknalt's gaze sharpened and he confidently gripped a spear and shield. He appeared ready to face such a monstrous creature.

Immediately, a crowd began to gather as an old man accompanied by two rough-looking bodyguards arrived to accept bets.

Almost everyone bet on the lion, with only a few daring individuals wagering on the gladiator for insane winnings if he survived. I walked up and placed my own bet. "I believe that, regardless of the fight's outcome, the lion will die within two days."

"How much are you willing to wager on that?" the bet maker inquired.

I pulled out half of the silver coins from my pouch, totaling about seven silver coins. Some bystanders looked impressed, but others remained unphased. It seemed I wasn't the only wealthy person in the vicinity.

After handing over the money to the bet maker, he examined my Silver Drachmas with an appraising eye, checking their weight. "The coins are good. Who wants to take this wager?"

Several dozen people bet against me, resulting in nearly doubling my money if I emerged victorious. With my eyes fixed on the fight, I returned to my seat.

The lion stalked toward the gladiator, who raised his shield in defense. Hopefully, he could injure the beast and win me some money.

Yet, it was merely a hopeful thought on my part as the beast charged. The man lowered his shield and stabbed at the lion. While the lion may not possess human-level intelligence, it still dodged the attack with impressive grace for its size, crouching down, and then the beast pounced.

The lion swung its paw, shattering the spear. The force of the attack knocked the gladiator to the ground, stealing the breath from his lungs.

What followed could only be described as a merciless massacre. The man attempted to plunge his spear into the lion's hide but only drew a drop of blood before the weapon snapped. This infuriated the king of the jungle, and it descended upon the man's shoulder, effortlessly tearing through bone and flesh.

The man's blood-curdling screams haunted my thoughts as the lion devoured him piece by piece until he succumbed to blood loss.

The lion's merciless slaughter of the man was as expected. Though a part of me wanted the man to triumph over the Goliath. But reality rarely allowed such victories to happen.

Welp, it's time to poison a lion.

Armed with the necessary poison, my only remaining task was to infiltrate the beast's cage after the show was over.

Nervousness washed over me as I contemplated the act. Crimes in this world were met with severe punishments, and I had no background as a career criminal prior to being in this situation.

But just as I pondered my options, the lion's roar interrupted my thoughts. The creature stared at the surrounding stadium, seemingly perceiving the onlookers as mocking its presence. Its roars echoed the defiance of a king unwilling to be belittled by mere humans.

Whether this perception was my own interpretation or a result of my overthinking became inconsequential. In a split second, the beast agilely ascended and leapt onto the stands, exhibiting the grace of a cat.

Before anyone could react, it eviscerated one man's throat and disfigured another's face.

Oh fuck! The lion was in the stands!