When the jewel-like sunlight made the yellow sand start to burn, two bell-ringers in leather waistcoats and round fur hats immediately rang the bronze bells that hung on the top of the highest tower in the arena. Two loud and loud roars immediately boiled the waiting crowd, the bell of the second hour of the scorching sun, and also the beginning of the bloody battle.

The Dragoninus and Quid mercenaries had found the place that the Archon had left for them near the door. These ferocious barbarians did not carry much of a weapon, mainly to prevent them from being mistaken for an attack on the discontented. This caused the angry Harusa residents to start roaring and cursing until the entire city guard separated them from each other at a safe enough distance.

In addition to the consul and his noble subordinates, who had neglected the commoners, another powerful force of Harusa finally appeared in the arena. In a position near the ornate observation deck of the councillors, the presiding priest of the Temple of Wisdom filled the place with a large number of priests dressed in intricate blue and white robes. The presence of these servants of the gods caused the people of Harusa to begin to quiet down and pray aloud, and even the nobles did not dare to show any disrespect unless they were willing to watch these fanatical servants and angry people burn themselves at the stake.

While sitting on the podium and praying in a low voice, the Archon made a brief exchange with the Speaker with his eyes. As the rulers of the city-state, the aristocracy was not friendly with the church, which had always won only the support of the common people. Even though both sides were trying to maintain harmony in order to facilitate the plundering of wealth from this prosperous trading land.

"The God of Wisdom is above, the only true God of Harusa!" the priest did not stop praying because of the displeasure of the nobles. He unleashed a amplification spell on himself, allowing the old and wise voice to spread throughout the arena. "Bless your people, bless Harusa, who will never give in. ”

With the movements of the chief priest, the large crowd of priests sang hymns in unison, so that the melodious and empty praise was like a divine hand brushing the hearts of the Harusa believers. Then a mighty halo of light fell from the sky, like a rain of falling meteorites, which made the civilians louder and more enthusiastic in admiration.

The sacrificial group easily unleashed a large blessing magic spell that made the stupid civilians who thought they had seen a miracle kneel on the ground and praise loudly without consuming much life force. "O great mother of Harusa, the true God of forgiveness and mercy. Thank you for the nectar and air you have given us, and cherish the land and livestock you have given us. Praise be to you, holy and wise gods, unto death. ”

The madness of the commoners made the faces of the ruling nobles more and more unsightly, and the warriors with a little common sense could recognize that it was just a large-scale magic spell, but for those Harusa people or slaves who survived on black bread and water, magic was the power bestowed by the great true god on the servants of God, and it was a miracle that really existed. As for the learned and wise magicians and even the arcanists, even the nobles of Harusa could not convince these powerful men to explain the problem to the commoners. In fact, where temples exist, magicians are not very popular. There were only a handful of magicians in the city-states of Harusa, including the Cheerst League, and most of them were white robes hired by nobles with good and righteous hearts.

The mercenary mage sitting behind him nodded, and the mage, whose face was completely hidden in white robes, immediately waved his staff and unleashed amplification on the archon. "Praise the true God in the name of Harusa! Citizens, pray aloud. Sacrifice to the gods with boiling yellow sand and the freshest blood, and let the great gods determine whether the barbarian warrior bears the unpardonable sins. ”

With the loud and piercing sound of steel chains grinding, the fifteen-foot-tall cast-iron door at the bottom of the arena slowly rose. It wasn't until the goalpost reached the bottom of the wooden grandstand that a tall, muscular figure stepped out of the shadows, its feet trembling to the center with the tremor of the earth.

Immediately from the Quid seats rang out a beastly roar, and the warriors shouted in vigour, praising the name of the Furasy and Rhaga in Quaid. The barbarian's muscles tensed and contracted as they walked, allowing the creamy olive oil to drip from their body hair. The hunter had only a thin and ornate piece of soft calfskin armor, and the nails and leaves were inlaid with dazzling and shiny brass nails. With a strange enclosed round helmet in his left hand, the Quaid stepped on the sand that had been heated to the center of the arena with the sole of his foot. The Harusa had some weapons for the long-haired, bearded warrior, but the hunters were displeased with the loss of them. Now he dragged it to the sand was a chain, about twenty feet long. It was a spare tool used to pull up the heavy iron door, but now it was a deadly weapon in the hands of the barbarians like the tail of the python of the underworld.

"Praise my gods. Amid the invective and curses of the Harusa, the Quid raised his arms and roared. He lifted his helmet and chains hard, leaning forward to let the long braid on the back of his head sway. The hunter's beard was washed and braid again by the slaves, and even the skinny ones coated him with plant-scented olive oil.

Before the civilians were even more irritated by the hunters, the Archon immediately stretched out his hand straight forward. "Barbarian warriors from the Ice Plains, the gods have prepared enough opponents for you. ”

The five remaining doors in the arena were pulled up almost simultaneously, and one by one, almost fully armed, strong gladiators emerged from the widening gap. Most of the civilians cheered, but some were ashamed to keep silent. Because there were so many gladiators that there were even more than a dozen to reach fifteen. There was no reaction among the Quaids. In the eyes of these barbarians, defeating enough and powerful opponents is a testament to the warrior's own prowess.

Fifteen gladiators immediately gathered around as soon as they appeared, they did not know who this barbarian was who was ordered to kill, nor how powerful this warrior was. These soulless samurai only remembered the words of their slave owners: 'Swear by the name of the gods, kill that enemy, and I will set you free.' ’

Enemies surrounded him from all sides, and Riga threw away the helmet in his left hand, the kind of enclosed armor that only allowed him to ignore the weapons that were swinging from his surroundings. The barbarian tightened the chain with both hands, and after a slow twist, he swung it up with force. The twenty-foot-long steel whip made a 'whirring' sound in the air tearing through the strong wind, and then poked out like a poisonous snake and whipped the ground covered with yellow sand.

The chains formed an iron curtain in the air, but the experienced gladiators dodged it. However, the Quaids did not intend to whip the enemies with their chains, and brute force struck the soft ground, and then the hunter pulled back the ropes, allowing them to fly back with grains of sand.

The majestic force made the sand so destructive that a group of gladiators immediately closed their eyes, but then swung the chains and cut the two panicked men who did not crouch down to dodge. The chains of steel sliced through the flesh and bones of the slaves with the ease of tearing through the tough parchment.

ps: Thank you for the reward of the book friend for inviting the moon into the building. Also, I've heard that the client doesn't see the modified version unless you download it again. Everyone can save it, and I will change it as soon as possible.