Revive Rome: Wait! Why not make the empress fall in love with me first?
Chapter 44 - 44 35 The 2nd Gladiatorial Combat

44: Chapter 35: The 2nd Gladiatorial Combat 44: Chapter 35: The 2nd Gladiatorial Combat “Life Stealing I,” allowed for the absorption of an opponent’s life force through close contact.

It was possible to interrupt the flow of life force within the victim’s life body, for example, by creating a wound and preventing the life force from entering, causing the wound to heal very slowly.

Or by blocking the life force at the shoulder, leading to the arm’s decay and atrophy due to lack of life force.

It was also possible to form a drop of Physical Essence Stamina from the stolen life force, which, when diluted, became Healing Divine Medicine that could be externally applied for rapid recovery from injuries.

The absorbed life force could satisfy the daily demand of 2ml of blood required by Flesh I.

Aske glanced at the text message from Nora on his phone and got a rough idea of Peggy’s abilities.

Good, then there was one Level 2 in the team.

Aske thought to himself, and if he counted Medea, that made one and a half.

Life Stealing I was somewhat useful in the early stages of battle, but it became utterly useless later in the game.

Because it required contact to absorb life force, and the enemy obviously wouldn’t stand there foolishly and let themselves be drained.

Thus, it turned into a sleazy fighting style during combat, rubbing against the enemy now and then, with very limited blood to be drawn.

If the sequence were upgraded to Life Stealing II, then it would become long-range life-draining, which would be much more practical in battle.

“Our next duel, our opponent is the Yellow Team,” the big “Barbarian” was sharpening his battle axe and spoke indifferently, “The team leader is a Varangian, a descendant of our fellow Vikings in the Siberian wilderness.”

“He’s armed with an extra large sword that requires both hands to hold, longer and heavier than the great sword you used last time.

I was also defeated by him once, and only by throwing away my weapon in time did I save my life.”

“If possible,” he picked up the battle axe and blew breath across the bright and reflective blade, “let’s kill him this time.”

“Are you always so bloodthirsty?” Aske frowned.

If this guy was a killing machine, wouldn’t recruiting him into the team just destroy the unity for no reason?

“Eh, aren’t you a gladiator for the purpose of killing?” the Barbarian asked in surprise.

“No,” Aske answered with righteous indignation.

I became a gladiator for the magic potion of Sharp Weapon I and to see if I could recruit potential teammates.

“Do you fight for the sake of killing?”

“Of course not,” the Barbarian said, “I once tried out for the Emperor’s Valangia Shield Guard and got rejected.

My money ran out on the way there, so I had no choice but to come here and make a living as a gladiator.”

“Do you have any dreams?” Aske asked casually, “Like, after you have money.”

“I want to become a lord,” said the Barbarian, “First, I’ll serve any noble, then be knighted and get my own land, and finally, every day I’ll kill thieves, escaped convicts, and the like.”

“And you say you’re not bloodthirsty?” Aske couldn’t help but laugh and cry, “Who dreams of killing criminals?”

“What I pursue is not the act of killing, but rather the enjoyment of battle.

Do you understand?

For us people of the North, only by dying a warrior’s glorious death, can we be taken to Valhalla’s Valkyrie Hall and enjoy endless feasting, singing, and wrestling,” sighed the Barbarian.

Aske heard the noise coming from outside boiling over again: “Three hours are up, it’s our turn to fight.”

“It’s the two of us,” the Barbarian corrected him, “These cowards dressed in red don’t plan to fight side by side with us.”

“Yes, the two of us,” Aske picked up the Caucasian Straight Sword, “Then let’s go.”

“Wait, you’re not using that two-handed greatsword from last time?” the Barbarian asked incredulously.

“Changing weapons for fun,” said Aske.

“How can you casually change weapons?” the Barbarian expressed his incomprehension, “Have you not heard of the saying: ‘A weapon is a warrior’s bride.'”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aske joked, “I have many wives.”

“If you’re fickle, be careful that one day you’ll be betrayed by a wife on the battlefield,” said the Barbarian.

“Are you two done yet!” Saiotis, leading the Red Team in front, erupted angrily and turned around to shout, “If you want to chat, roll out to the stinking ditch outside the duel arena!”

The Red Team members exited the passage and entered the Duel Arena, converging with the approaching Yellow Team gladiators.

The Yellow Team gladiators generally wore armor with a higher armor rate than the previous Blue Team, and most of them were the more robust Franks.

The leader of the Yellow Team was a Northerner Varangian with messy hair and bear-like blue eyes.

After donning the Face Mask, his whole body was wrapped in iron armor without any gap showing.

“The Red Team has also entered the arena!

The team leader is the well-known Thrace ‘Brown Bear’!” the announcer howled like a drunkard, “And there’s our battle hero from the last fight, who single-handedly killed three blue-clothed gladiators, ‘the Viking’!!!”

The audience immediately cheered feverishly, clearly many had seen the previous fight.

“Do me a favor.” Saiotis shook hands with the Yellow team leader, whispering in his ear, “Later, kill the two on the far right of my team, the reward is three pounds.”

“Five pounds,” came the cold voice from behind the Face Mask of the Varangian, “Their bones will be broken into pieces.”

“Deal,” Saiotis nodded slightly.

After both parties had finished their salutations, they retreated five steps with their respective teammates and drew their weapons, bracing for battle.

“Who will be crowned the MVP of this bloody gladiatorial combat?” the host was still shouting at the top of his lungs, “Will it be the yellow team’s leader ‘Bone Cleaver,’ or the red team’s leader ‘Brown Bear’?

Can the ‘Viking’ from the previous spectacle continue his glory in this match…”

“Hold on, am I seeing this right?

‘Viking’ is holding a single-handed straight sword, not his signature two-handed great sword?”

The referee of the Duel Arena also stepped forward, asking Aske:

“Did you pick the wrong weapon?

If it’s because there are no two-handed great swords in the practice area, I can help you fetch one from the warehouse.”

“No, thank you,” said Aske.

“I plan on using this straight sword for this fight.”

The referee nodded and gestured “continue” to the audience around.

From the loudspeaker came the incredulous voice of the host:

“My God!

‘Viking’ has actually declined the referee’s permission to exchange weapons, determined to use a single-handed straight sword in this gladiatorial match?

Please reconsider, ‘Viking’!

The audience wants to see you wielding your great sword and smashing enemies to pieces, not your tragic posture when you’re slain due to a weak weapon!”

“How can ‘Viking’ without a heavy weapon still be called ‘Viking’?

Do you want to change your nickname?

Sicilian?

Iberian?

Siriusian?”

“This commentator is so annoying,” Aske complained.

“Is there any way to shut him up?”

“You think so too?” the Barbarian chimed in.

“I’ve put up with him for half a year.

I’d rather give up the single-day championship if it meant getting rid of him.”

In the exclusive box above the spectator seats of the Duel Arena, the Imperial Guard officers and Captain Michael were staring coldly at the arena below.

Specifically, at Aske wrapped in the red gladiator’s cloak.

“The host is too noisy,” said Michael with a frown.

“Shut him up.”

“Yes,” two officers stood up and exited.

From the loudspeakers, the host’s bellowing voice continued:

“…Listen to this, our spectators are booing.

‘Viking,’ let me tell you a truth, a man’s weapon doesn’t have to be sharp, but it must be big!

Thick!

Solid!

How can you call these tiny toothpicks like a single-handed straight sword a weapon?

Let me tell you…

Huh?

Who are you?

You can’t come in here…

Ah!”

There were sounds of a microphone being snatched and a scuffle through the speakers, accompanied by a scream, and then silence.

Aske and the Barbarian looked at each other, speechless.

“It wasn’t me,” shrugged the Barbarian.

“I take back what I said before.

Even if the host is ‘dealt with,’ I still want to win this single-day championship.”

“It has nothing to do with the host,” said Aske.

“The reason you won’t win the single-day championship is because I’m here.”

“Alright,” the Barbarian said, excitedly.

“Then let’s see who can kill more people this time.”

The starting gun sounded, and the battle began immediately.

The red-clothed gladiators quickly shrank their formation, isolating Aske and the Barbarian at the right wing.

Just as if they had coordinated earlier, two yellow-clothed gladiators dashed out from the yellow team.

One of them was the team leader from Valangia, ‘Bone Cleaver.'”

“I’ll hold him off,” said the Barbarian, facing ‘Bone Cleaver,’ who stood a towering 2 meters tall and clad in full armor.

The 1.9 meters tall Barbarian looked ready to face a formidable opponent.

“You go take out his deputy, ‘Bloodthirster.'”

“Let’s switch it up,” Aske suggested.

He charged forward, his straight sword piercing towards the opponent.

‘Bone Cleaver,’ behind his face mask, smirked coldly as he raised his great sword like a storm—this was an extra large sword over two meters long, requiring great strength to wield due to the distant center of gravity.

However, once brought into action, it was tremendously powerful with an expansive striking range.

Aske, as if anticipating it, rolled beneath the descending great sword at the precise moment.

‘Bone Cleaver’ put force into his arm again, the great sword arcing slightly and then chopping down heavily like a mountain.

The ground of the arena almost split with a thunderous sound under the great sword.

‘Bone Cleaver’ looked up incredulously, only to see Aske standing unscathed on his great sword, the straight sword casually resting on his shoulder.

“Not bad, wielding such a vigorous weapon with skill,” he said cheerfully.

“I happen to be short of a companion.

Interested?”

Aske seemed more apt for the role of ‘heavy hitter’ than the Barbarian, so he didn’t bother to observe further and went straight to making an offer.

“Me?” ‘Bone Cleaver’ was startled, then misunderstood Aske’s intention.

Drop the leadership of the yellow team and join you as a mere companion in the red gladiator team?

Damn, even ‘Brown Bear,’ the leader of the red team, wouldn’t dare to mock me like this!

He showed his teeth in furious laughter:

“Alright, I’m missing a skull in my series of trophies, are you interested in joining them as a companion?”

“No?

That’s a pity,” Aske said regretfully.

‘Bone Cleaver’ gripped his extra large sword with both hands and suddenly lifted it.

Aske was thrown airborne by the tremendous force, his longsword stabbing straight out, targeting between ‘Bone Cleaver’s’ eyes.

“Caucasus Assassination Swordsmanship, Shadow Hawk’s Raid,” Michael suddenly said, observing from the box.

‘Bone Cleaver’ released one hand from his weapon, grabbing towards the tip of the sword.

His palm was covered with a steel palm armor, and once he got hold of the straight sword, he could easily twist it into a pretzel.

Aske’s longsword touched ‘Bone Cleaver’s’ helmet’s nose-guard and swiftly retracted like the wind, before swinging down again on his shoulder.

“Far East Swordsmanship, Falling Phoenix Slash,” another Imperial officer remarked.

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