The morning ground was damp and cold, making it easy to wring out cloudy droplets of the gray linen sheet that covered Riga. As if sleeping in the snow of a winter ice field, the hunter immediately shuddered from his sleep when the bitter chill touched the Quaid body along the mouldy haystack.

In the haze, he wiped the corners of his mouth with a heavy damp sheet, and after tasting the bitterness of the dust, the sober hunter angrily threw it into the corner. The pervasive moisture made the Quaid sour, but his lips were chapped like the bumpy skin of a lizard. But the hunters soon discovered something worse. When he picked up the oak cup at the head of the bed, Riga saw a moving creature inside with his accustomed eyes. It was a cockroach.

"Praise the Fury. The hunter prayed hoarsely, but then stretched out two thick fingers to scoop out the insect that was still struggling in the clear water. "Sacrifice to you with fresh creatures, and bless me to overcome all enemies today. Crushing the shell of the worm with great force, the Quaid made a simple prayer to the god of madness before raising their cup and swallowing a foul-smelling and musty liquid down their throats.

The scorching sun had replaced the black moon by this time, and as the shadows retreated into the corners, Riga could see the shimmering red light in the east through the cracks in the planks.

"Gladiators, it's time to get out of your comfortable bed. Rega didn't have to wait long, and after less than a prayer time, the dark, narrow passage was filled with the characteristic shuffling sound of a slave walking. Then the familiar stranger entered with a group of soldiers.

The smell of the room made the Harusa curse, and the slaves immediately sped up to open the door. Strong gladiators were not allowed to walk out the door until they were shackled with steel. Slavers always tried to get these beasts to put away their minions, but chains and shackles proved to be the most efficient.

When all the gladiators had walked out, the soldiers came to the iron gate where Riga was closed. As citizens with more rights than the Free Men of Harusa, a couple of gladiators were not what let them in here. "Open the door. The infantry captain licked his lips nervously, and opened his mouth tremblingly. They all knew what kind of ferocious beasts were being held here.

A slave walked up and trembled as he opened the copper lock on the iron chain with a key. "Please come in, Master Soldier. The skinny slave immediately ducked to the side and said in a shrill voice that came out of his throat.

The two shackled soldiers swallowed and looked at the infantry captain before taking a small step forward. But the Quaid suddenly came out of it. "I am not a criminal or a slave, and the chains should not imprison the hands and feet of a free warrior. ”

The tall Quaid man with his face hidden in the darkness stood like a demon, and the Harusa infantry nodded in disdain, and opened their mouths trembling and stammering. "Take... By the name of the God of Wisdom, I know it too. He swallowed hard the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth from fear, causing a gurgling swallowing sound to emanate in his throat.

The soldiers dispersed under the horrific oppression, and then the Quaid emerged from the iron gate with their heads bowed, and walked along the passage with a somewhat embarrassed but fierce face.

At the end of the narrow passage was a staircase leading up, and as Riga walked up, a tall figure stood in front of him. "You should go over there and clean up. There will also be some bread and fresh milk on the table to fill the stomach. Of course, if you can still eat it. ”

The familiar tone made the hunter look up and stare at the man with his azure pupils. He had short, neatly trimmed fiery red hair, and under the shredded twine-like strands, the stranger wore the blue-black stripes on his forehead, which was familiar to Riga. It was a Quaid, about the same height and strength as Riga, but with a distinct imprint on his face.

"Frost bears, why are you here? Hirag is above, you have betrayed the gods and the tribe. His eyes suddenly turned red, and Riga threw his fist hard. "Blasphemous with abscesses on your head, you deserve to be exiled to the abyss. ”

The fist slammed into the stranger's nose, causing it to make a crisp sound and splash out a few drops of blood. The hunter tried to continue attacking, but the mysterious slave reacted quickly and grabbed the second fist that had been pounded. He pounded his elbow under Riga's ribs and pushed him away with all his might. "I have never betrayed Hirag, nor have I ever forgotten that I am a descendant of the Frost Bear. ”

The hunter struggled to his feet from the ground, but a line of soldiers held him back with a fleur-shaped shield. "Prepare, barbarian samurai. After two prayers, you will face an opponent specially chosen by the Archon of Harusa. ”

The spear against his chest stopped the hunter, but the rage burning in his chest made Riga unwilling to do so. He rubbed his still-aching ribs through his fur coat, then turned his head hatefully and walked towards the pool.

Every gladiator had to wash their bodies here to prevent a filthy pig wrapped in dirt and dust from appearing in front of the audience. Two dwarf, brown-skinned slaves shed Rega their musty, damp coat and cleaned him with a brush made of hard pig hair. The Quid had an unconcealed anger on their faces, so the frightened slaves did not dare to exert their strength to prevent being strangled by the berserk beasts by the edge of the pool.

In the end, Riga snatched the brush and washed it roughly. As the barbarian walked out of the pool, the other slaves quickly approached and applied the slippery olive oil to the hunter's body with both hands. This plant-scented oil was a favorite of gladiators, as its flavor refreshed and made the bulging muscles shine in the sunlight with a healthy glow.

The grease was quickly and lightly smeared, and the slaves brought Rriga clothes. A piece of crotch cloth specially cut for the compound body type and an oversized leather armor made of soft calfskin. The chest and back of the armor are connected to the skirt armor, and it is still painted with some pungent red paint. The extruded muscles in the abdomen made it a little more ridiculous.

"This is the equipment of a gladiator, you can't pray that he is as strong as the armor of a soldier. The prepared slave explained quietly and cautiously as the Quid man's face showed displeasure. "It's not specifically aimed at you. ”

With the help of the slaves, the leather armor was put on, and after fastening the buttons behind his back, Riga walked to the table and picked up a piece of toast that was still soft. The slave immediately served him a bowl of fresh milk and watched as the barbarians drank it all in one gulp.

Gladiatorial fights have always been a favorite public pastime for the citizens of Harusa, and the gladiatorial arena on this day is more like an ant nest full of bugs. The freedmen, who had long been enraged by the brutal Quaids, began to rebel when the ruling government announced the order, and of course they could only protest outside the chamber in the center of the city. And now, when the battle of Riga is about to come, they are holding the banner to occupy the best position in the gladiatorial arena.

"O great god of wisdom, let the barbarians drain their blood on the sand. Even I was willing to sacrifice with blood and two dozen rams. Kneeling on the gray cashmere floor in the church temple, the archon prayed diligently, and then he slashed his palm with his knife, letting the viscous blood flow down the ravines in front of the tall statue.

ps: I can't bear this drag, and I'll do it in the next chapter. Ask for a few more referral votes.