Chapter 10 Gladiator
◎It is so huge that when looking up from below, it almost covers half of the sky, competing with the azure blue sky.◎
The first rays of sunlight caught the gravel, and the wind was filled with the scent of barbecue and spices.
The slaves worked by torchlight for more than two hours, washing the cups and plates left over from yesterday's meal and re-arranging the bread, desserts, and honey-glazed barbecue. A full bottle of fruit wine was placed in front of each chair.
The tables and chairs in the manor are all of the best quality. Unlike the buffets in the city that cater to the common people, the banquet here is to entertain Lord Muala's friends.
These distinguished guests received their invitations just yesterday and will not arrive until at least today.
If Lord Muala's funeral had continued for eight days, the elders would have had to wait until the sixth day to finally arrive. However, according to the young master's instructions, the funeral would only last five days, so perhaps a distinguished guest would arrive tonight.
Idido stood under the shade of a tree, wiping his sweat and staring at the slaves busying around not far away:
Everyone was busy with the funeral, and the young master hadn't yet come to grips with what happened a while ago. He couldn't afford to make any more mistakes at this critical juncture...
"Idito!"
Idido quickly turned around and said, "Hey! It's Lord Muro." He immediately put on a friendly and flattering smile, and used folds of wrinkles to cover up the slight uneasiness in his heart.
If Master Muala were still alive, Lord Muro would naturally be the most popular person in the family.
He will inherit the master's position and cooperate with young master Melia... Unfortunately, young master Melia's mind has changed, and Idido dare not make a bet casually.
Slaves can't afford to lose.
Muro walked over in the shade of the trees. He was much older than Melia, 32 years old this year, and an adult who had made achievements in politics.
He was wearing a solemn white robe today, a pure gold calla lily on his body as a symbol of respect, and sandals woven with rattan, which was really solemn.
With his serious and deep black eyes and slightly broad face, the slaves around him could not help but lighten their steps and dared not look directly at this familiar young man.
Muro stopped in front of Idido and nodded slightly: "You have lost a lot of weight. You have worked hard."
Idito smiled apologetically: "For the master, it's my duty. Are you here to see the young master today? You'd better hurry up, because she will be going to the arena soon."
There are three major arenas in the Roman capital, and only the central arena is located within the city.
No slave owner could monopolize the central arena. In addition to Muala's half-brother, there were three other merchants with veterans behind them.
They jointly owned the profit share and usage rights of the central arena, and even often shared the venue during training, allowing their gladiators to practice with each other.
Muro still had a stern face, but his eyes were gentle: "Okay, I'll go right away."
Before he had taken a few steps, a sudden noise came from behind him.
Muro turned around and looked in the direction where Idido was running. It turned out that the "guests" outside the manor had an argument with the slaves.
These simply dressed guests were not the distinguished guests of the evening reception; they were obviously farmers from nearby. Muala only purchased the most fertile land and did not interfere with the scattered villages on the outskirts.
He was also a guest now, so he stood at the door with his hands in his sleeves, watching and waiting.
There were not many farmers in the household. They wore turbans and robes to cover the patches on their bodies. They also had few pieces of jewelry that were easily discarded.
A woman with gray hair on her temples was wiping her tears and picking up broken bottles from the ground.
Idito raised his voice so that everyone could hear, "Master, have mercy on me. You can't steal at my master's funeral!"
"No, no... I didn't." The woman threw the bottle away and clasped her hands together awkwardly. "I, I just... didn't bring a jar. I wanted to pack some food to take back. I'll return the bottle tomorrow..."
How is that possible?
Such a simple lie could not fool Idido, let alone Muro.
The bottle on the ground was made of glass, small and expensive. The woman must have known the price and wanted to hide the bottle in her robe and take it out to the market to get a good price.
He looked away and sneered in his heart: How greedy.
These poor people relied on Muala's guards to maintain law and order, so that they would not be robbed by the barbarians and would not have to pay rent to Muala.
Now that the adults have passed away, they come here to eat and take things without showing any gratitude.
If a theft was discovered in progress, according to Roman law, the person had to be whipped before being handed over to the victim of the theft.
Melia is cruel and ruthless. If this woman can't pay double compensation for the bottle, there will be no good meat left after the beating.
She certainly can't afford it.
When Muro thought of this, a trace of pity arose in his heart.
Muffled sobbing could be heard not far away, and the peasant woman cried out to the people around her, assuring herself that she was not a thief.
The slaves all lowered their heads, avoiding her gaze. They all knew their master's personality, so they didn't dare say a word. They just surrounded the woman, trying not to let her escape.
Ding-ling, ding-ling, ding-ling.
The sweet sound of bells rang out in the wind.
Muro looked towards the main gate. A beautiful concubine lifted the bead curtain with a golden hook, and another beauty supported the petite girl with her arm and walked into the sunshine with her.
A jeweled shoe came into view, and Muro held his breath, pushing the greeting to his lips.
But before he could say anything, the girl's veil had already brushed past him.
She didn't even look at him.
How could this be?
Muro was a little dazed: Melia was indeed arrogant and brainless, but under the guidance of Lord Muala, she would at least be polite to him.
Is it because he just inherited a large amount of inheritance and is shaking?
"What are you arguing about?" Melia yawned and looked very tired.
Idido looked around and found that the other slaves had lowered their heads. He had no choice but to run over, holding his belly and bowing to the ground: "Oh, my master, a peasant woman who lives next door... broke a glass bottle."
After he finished speaking, his heart skipped a beat and he wanted to slap himself in the face.
How dare a slave sympathize with others? How dare he deceive his master with nonsense!
"...That's it?" Melia looked speechlessly at the broken glass bottles and food scraps on the ground.
Isn’t Muala’s family the richest? Why would he argue with his neighbor for breaking a bottle?
Suddenly someone murmured, "She would have broken it if she wanted to steal it."
Roman law seems to be quite strict. Theft...seems very serious?
Melia perked up, exuding a strong sense of arrogance. She waved at the crying woman and said, "I'm impatient with all that nonsense. You do the talking."
The woman quickly knelt on the ground, her knees covered in dirt. "Reply to your Excellency, I will use the bottle to carry the food..."
"Ah~ So that's how it is~"
Melia clapped her hands exaggeratedly, "That's right, I did forget to prepare plates for carrying food."
Muro coughed behind him. This was not something Lord Muala had not expected. Funerals are different from wedding banquets. It is not decent to bring food home.
Leftover food from funerals should be donated to churches to feed birds in the square or buried in fields to bless the next harvest.
Melia let go of the concubine's hand and said to Idito, "Bring a basket of bread and flatbread, cut them in half, and put some meat and vegetables in it for them to take away."
"yes……"
Everyone looked at each other, but Melia had already turned around, nodded to Muro, and then ran away.
Muro was stunned and it took him a while to catch up.
When he ran out of the door, his sister had already sat on the white horse. The wind blew her long hair, and the ink color was trapped in the furry rabbit fur scarf.
"Meliya!" he shouted. "I have something to discuss with you!"
As soon as the words came out, Muro couldn't help but grit his teeth:
When had he ever used the word "discuss" to communicate with Melia? This brainless sister just followed the crowd and used arrogance to cover up her ignorance.
Just a few words of flattery or analyzing the problem with her in a firm attitude, and she will immediately agree with a headache.
That's how it should be...but Melia seems different today.
The girl on the horse turned around and gave him a relaxed smile: "Is that Brother Muro? It's okay~ After father's funeral is over, we still have plenty of time to chat."
Are you kidding? What will happen to my father's part of the inheritance without her signature?
If he wants to gain the recognition of other elders and truly inherit the elder seat, he must start campaigning immediately.
Muro is different from other members of the Muala family. As an adopted son who is engaged in politics, his wealth expenditure depends entirely on Muala's support, and he has no energy to invest himself.
Muro: "Meliya, this is a serious matter——"
The white horse galloped away, and a faint puff of smoke separated him from the girl.
He gradually stopped, and the uneasiness and confusion in his heart accumulated more and more.
[Just now...was that really Melia? ]
…
Melia held onto the saddle and, with Taffy's help, she shakily rolled over to the ground.
She looked up at the white circular building in front of her, and her legs felt weak for a moment.
It is so huge that when looking from below, it almost covers half of the sky and competes with the azure blue sky.
The sun shone down, and the gravel on the surface reflected a dazzling glow, forcing people to cover their eyes.
Muala's half-brother, Mario.
The person who cares most about the original owner in "Rose Princess" but is also the one who is hurt the most.
According to the original storyline, he felt deeply guilty for not redeeming his niece immediately.
When Melia was resold for the second time, he secretly contacted the seller and bought back the half-crazy girl at a relatively favorable price.
Mario treated the original owner with great kindness, but he was unable to help his niece pay back the debt and could not eliminate her slave status, so he had to provide her with good food and drink.
Unfortunately, as soon as the original owner's madness subsided a little, he immediately poisoned the guard for "freedom".
The person who was responsible for guarding her was Mario's only daughter.
Melia took a deep breath, puffed out her chest, and stepped into the arena with high spirits.
The sunlight shines on the artificially laid hot sand, creating a colorful pattern.
Click, click.
The golden sandals stepped across the sand, attracting everyone's attention. There were at least fifty or sixty gladiators scattered in various corners, trained by instructors.
The young gladiator stood directly under the sun, sweat dripping down his skin.
Those masters who looked very experienced were allowed to use the shade under the eaves and corridors to manipulate their shields to easily deflect the opponent's sticks.
Melia glanced at the curious and gloomy gazes around her and nodded secretly in her heart:
The gladiators appeared to be in good health and shape, with even the youngest, skinny slaves sporting shiny abdominal muscles.
Just as the book said, my uncle did not treat them harshly.
She stood in the middle of the battlefield and gently shook the bell on her wrist: "Uncle Mario, I'm here."
There was no way, she didn't know Mario.
Melia kept smiling. After a moment, a young gladiator looked around, wiped his hands on his pants, and walked over neatly.
"Miss, Lord Mario is busy right now."
He didn't dare look Melia in the eye, and he stuttered while standing firmly on his feet.
Melia clapped her hands with a smile: "I am his niece Melia, and I am here to discuss the funeral matters~"
As soon as the words came out, the atmosphere instantly turned cold, and even the clanging sounds of swords clashing not far away stopped.
Everyone's eyes were focused on her face, with hatred evident in their expressions.
That's right! After all, everyone thought I was here to kill you.
She immediately forced a smile and said, "Don't worry, I'm here to ask my uncle to cancel the contract."
"What!" The young gladiator's eyes widened. "Really? My brother doesn't have to die? His name is Nicola. Are you willing to cross out his name?!"
"Ahem, of course." Melia could see pairs of eyes filled with confusion and doubt, and tried to pretend to be indifferent: "After all, I have other requests. As long as you——"
"Meliya!" a voice behind her interrupted her request. The gladiators saluted and whispered to Mario, "Master."
A handsome middle-aged man walked over quickly, his slippers tugged at him, his face showing a mixture of anticipation and distress: "Your father said he needed 64 people, but here—"
"It's okay~" Melia nimbly leaped in front of him and stomped on the floor playfully. "Uncle, you don't really think I'm going to waste so much money, do you?"
Mario choked up.
As a slave owner and relative, he should have warned his niece: Brother Muala was of extraordinary status and deserved the gift of being buried alive in the gladiatorial arena.
He mentioned this point many times before his death, and even the most unfilial children should be accommodating to this.
However, the kindness in his heart prevented him from speaking.
Not to mention that so many young men and girls were standing around them, forming a loose semi-encirclement.
This somewhat weak slave owner did not think about the danger at all. He only recalled the warm years when he taught them personally.
Every good seedling was carefully selected and purchased by him, and their fighting skills also contain his hard work and youth.
Mario even considered going against his brother's wishes.
He was just about to muster up the courage to shamelessly lie to his niece and let more of the designated gladiators survive, preferably reducing them to a phalanx of 32.
These gladiators were extremely young and talented, and Muala had to resort to a lot of favors to secure them. Like him, the other sellers were willing to pay a small penalty to avoid making such a shady, one-time profit.
Looking at Mario's face that was turning red and blue, Melia said generously: "Uncle, I don't want their lives. I don't have to pay my father's deposit or everyone's liquidated damages. I just want -"
"Okay, I understand..."
Mario nodded with relief. He glanced at the gladiators not far away and sighed with relief: "Come on, come with me to see Ronnie."
Who is Luo Ni? She spoke so kindly, so she must be someone the original owner knew.
Melia didn't want to reveal her flaws, so she followed her uncle obediently.
As the two walked, the buildings around them became fewer and fewer, and the stone slabs on the corridor disappeared, replaced by gravel that was easy to clean and shovel.
Melia looked up and saw a circle of iron cages not far away, which seemed to be the place where fighting beasts were placed.
Could it be that Roni was the fighting beast the original owner had ordered? Why were all the cages in the front row empty?
According to the description in "Rose Queen", Mario's gladiators usually live in rooms.
A strange feeling surged in my heart.
"Here we are." Mario wiped his nose and called out to the innermost cage, "Ronnie, she's here. Is it convenient for you today?"
The author has something to say:
Thanks to Qiu Feng for the irrigation~
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
