Dressed in an earthy brown cloth robe with chains around his neck, Rikas was pulled out of the house by two servants of the slave traders. The sun outside the www.biquge.info made him frown, but it was the strong Butcher who really made him feel uncomfortable. Like two tigers meeting, Rikas grabbed the chain with both hands and pulled it violently, dragging the two servants to the ground. He took off his robe, revealing his muscles as well.

The scarred muscles were quite strong, but not bulging like Butcher's. Rather than absolute strength, he is more focused on being flexible, agile and less expensive. In just a few movements, Rikas moved all his muscles and completed the initial warm-up.

This is a balding middle-aged man, with slightly pointed ears, an overly straight nose bridge and hammer-shaped black pupils, all indicating that he is a mixed-race person and that he is from a rather "lowly background". Known as the Muor, or more collarly called "mules", they were a group of people who were unable to reproduce on their own, robbing their offspring of the power of their bloodline. Legend has it that they bear the curse of this half-blood, destined to bloom brilliantly, but also destined to be short-lived and silent.

Rikas stepped over to the servants on the ground and walked straight to Butcher. For thirty years, he prides himself on being strong and has been a gladiatorial training camp leader since he was a child, training across one or two age stages. But now, he felt threatened. The strong man in front of him was tall and big, and he could see that the muscles were not for viewing, but for fighting. The most interesting thing is that this strong man is a pure-blooded human, not another Moor.

"You slave is not easy to manage. Zhao Mai said: "It's troublesome to use the psychic ability, and it will also reduce his combat ability, which is very cost-effective." ”

The slave trader had already made a decision, and immediately said, "My lord, this is not a problem for you. And isn't it all about being strong and clever that you're most concerned about? Rikas is strong enough, and he has a mind of his own. Isn't his performance very clever now?"

Rikas stood still in front of Butcher and looked at him with his head tilted slightly, "Big man, are you his slave?"

Butcher snorted coldly, a contemptuous smile on his face. Because of his figure, he can only play the slave who uses his physical strength to earn food, but it doesn't mean that he will cooperate with the performance. Zhao Mai discussed with him, but whenever he encountered this kind of question, he didn't need to answer it at all, and the questioner would find the answer by himself. If you encounter a Templar or something like that, everything will be handled by Zhao Mai, who is fluent in languages.

This contemptuous smile about slavery caused Rikas to misunderstand, and he turned his head to look at Zhao Mai, and said generously: "I am Rikas, the best gladiator within a radius of five hundred miles. I can win all the championships for you, as long as it's a fair fight. He had a strong tongue-curling accent with a thick Ulric city-state, which he had learned from his mother and first trainer.

"What about the unfairness?" Zhao Mai asked deliberately.

"The other party will definitely not live, but you will probably face significant financial and property losses," Rikas pointed to himself, "that is, me." ”

Zhao Mai clapped his hands twice, and then said, "So, you like to fight?"

"No, I like to win. "I want to be the champion of the gladiatorial battle of Tyre, and I want to be the champion of the temple tower competition." ”

"Interesting idea, but why does it have to be the champion of the Temple Tower?"

Rikas smiled and didn't answer the question. The slave trader approached and was about to say something, when Rikas spoke again.

"Because if I become that champion, His Majesty will stand before me and give me freedom. And this peddler - I don't even want to call him a big man - may hide it from you. I'm only going to serve the owner who can take me to the Tyre Temple Tower competition, and this message will give you some money to bargain for you. ”

After hearing these words, Zhao Mai finally connected the matter. This Rikas is none other than the one who attacked the Witch King in the gladiatorial arena, sparked a rebellion, and finally completed the feat of killing the Witch King. He is the Spartacus of this world, and the version that wins in the end. After that, he also went on a series of adventures that turned the entire world of Atas upside down, and is known as the one who started the Age of Heroes.

In any case, this person is going to buy it. Zhao Mai immediately took out two steel daggers and threw them to the slave traders, as well as a whole bag of gold coins and gems. "From now on, you're mine. He announced.

"That's not enough money, sir. He's a Moor, and one is worth as much as a hundred slaves!"

"You say that his former master was put to death, then you must have received him for a very low price. Look at the level of your remaining slaves, and you know that you don't have enough money, and you certainly haven't spent a few dollars. Zhao Mai waved his hand, motioning for Rickas to climb out of it himself, and then stand next to Butcher. "I advise you to look at what you have in your hand, think about the profits you have already made, think about the part of the new potential benefits that your greed has induced you to strive for, and the inevitable risks you will take, and make some calculations before you speak. ”

"I wish you a victorious start. The slave trader deftly put away the steel dagger and the gold, took one look at Butcher, and decided to take it as soon as he saw it.

"Remember, I'm Mike and this is Butcher. Zhao Mai said to Rikas, "Tell me in detail about the competition between Tyre City and the Temple Tower. Where did you hear that?"

Shortly after they left, a man in a purple-black robe with twelve whips in his brown hair came to the slaver with a group of servants. His sharp eyes are hidden on the sides of his hooked nose, and he can't help but feel nervous and cramped when staring at people.

"Ah, honorable Templar, what are you doing here?"

"I heard you have a Muorish here, or a gladiator, is there such a thing?"

"It had been sold, and not long ago, it was taken away by a merchant. They were going to Tyre to participate in the gladiatorial tournament, the one in the temple tower. ”

The hook-nosed man was obviously dissatisfied, and shouted behind him: "Boaz, didn't I tell you to make sure that this slave is going to be mine?"

A wizened servant fell to his knees with a puff, and the men beside him hurried away as if they were dodging the plague. Boaz put his head on the ground and said in a panic, "Lord Tessian, I have found the wrong slave trader, and I have found another. ”

"Oh, I see. The Templar looked at the slaver, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. Then he lifted his foot, and with the power of his psychic power, he crushed Boaz's neck bone, without even looking at it.

"Now tell me, do you still have good slaves here?"