Episode 11: Blooming Abilities (2)
At the same time.
The imperial capital of the Rob Empire, Fontania. The inner palace.
"He's alive?"
Prince Mercah's face flushed with excitement. General Eugenia, who had been calmly delivering the intelligence report, nodded lightly in response.
"Yes. We received two updates. One confirming his successful completion of the trials, and another about his victory in the promotion match."
"Remarkable. How did he survive such a place?"
Prince Mercah's admiration was genuine. The boy couldn't be much older than himself.
To endure Palemon's gladiator training camp - known as the Ant Hell - to the end at such a young age...
"What are your orders? Should we continue monitoring and send my operatives to..."
"No. I'll go myself. Immediately."
"Pardon? Then I'll mobilize your escort at once."
As Eugenia began to retreat, Prince Mercah snapped him back.
"Eugenia!"
When the general turned, the prince continued with a mischievous grin:
"Not the escort. I'm going personally."
"Your Highness! That's too reckless!"
"What's the issue if you're accompanying me? Gather trustworthy personnel. We depart once preparations are complete."
"What if His Imperial Majesty discovers this?"
As Eugenia spoke with visible exasperation, Prince Mercah calmly smiled and patted his shoulder.
"Don't fret. Father's too consumed by the northern campaign to notice my absence. I'll prepare my gear - make the arrangements swiftly."
"Your Highness!"
The prince paused his stride toward his chambers, turning back with sudden gravity.
"This isn't a request."
His tone sharpened like steel.
"It's an order, General Eugenia."
Faced with imperial resolve, Eugenia knelt on one knee, fist to chest.
"Your will be done."
Charon and Gletch stood splattered in an officer's blood.
"You insane bastard! What the hell have you—"
Whoosh!
As Gletch's face twisted mid-sentence, Charon flung a bloodied sword at him.
Gletch caught the hilt by reflex.
Charon simultaneously melted backward into shadows.
"Eh? What's this—?"
Gletch gaped at the weapon, then at Charon's disappearing form.
At that precise moment, soldiers descending the underground stairs spotted Gletch holding the bloody blade.
Then they saw them - two officers sprawled in crimson pools.
"T-traitor! Gletch murdered the officers!"
The soldiers scrambled back up the stairs, howling.
Charon emerged from darkness, pursuing with unnatural speed. His urgency stemmed from grim arithmetic - two iron gates barred the underground exit. If either sealed, the gladiators would be trapped.
Game over.
"Damn it, Gletch! Snap out of it! We need to move now!"
Yutaro was first to grasp their doom. He wrenched a sword from a split skull and charged after Charon.
The other gladiators shook off their stupor and followed.
"Goddamn it!"
Gletch bit down hard and joined the stampede. Even if he hadn't struck the killing blow, none would believe him now.
The die was cast.
Charon shadowed the fleeing soldiers, his movements silent despite their panic.
"Rebellion! Gladiators rebelled! Seal the gates! Sound the alar—"
The shout died as Charon materialized before the gatekeeper. Time seemed to slow.
A boot filled the man's vision.
Crunch!
Charon stole the stunned guard's shortsword. Another gate awaited.
Two soldiers barred the next passage, emboldened by Charon's slight frame.
He didn't slow.
"Die, brat!"
As blades lanced toward his heart, Charon ran up the corridor wall.
Thwack!
He flipped over their heads, shortsword flashing.
Tschk! Tschk!
Arteries burst. Charon landed and surged forward without pause.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
Alarm bells shook the underground.
The final gate was nearly shut when Charon spun and hurled his sword.
Clang!
The blade jammed between closing metal. One second later would've been too late.
Charon gripped the gate. Muscles corded.
With monstrous strength, he shoved the iron portal open.
BOOM
Beyond stood a dozen stunned soldiers. Their disbelief lasted moments before battle cries erupted.
Charon calmly retrieved his sword.
Ten soldiers charged.
He retreated into the narrow passage - then stopped.
Thunderous roars echoed behind him.
"KILL THEM ALL!"
Gletch and Yutaro led twenty gladiators in a tsunami of rage.
The soldiers faltered.
"F-fall back!"
As enemies retreated, Charon sprinted ahead. Yutaro gaped at the aftermath - both gates forced open, bodies strewn about.
For the first time, hope flickered.
Charon suddenly halted, pointing to an armory.
"Shields! Now!"
Gladiators swarmed the storage, emerging with training swords and wooden shields - crude but lethal.
"Forward!"
Charon took point again.
Arrows streaked from a second-floor terrace as they emerged.
Charon felt them - disturbances in the air. He twisted mid-stride.
Whiff-whiff-whiff!
Three shafts kissed empty space.
More archers were preparing above. No stairs connected the floors - only a heavily barred main gate.
Charon sprinted toward training logs instead.
"Stop him!"
Arrows thudded uselessly into the massive timber he carried.
Thunk!
He wedged the log against the terrace railing.
Without hesitation, he ran up the makeshift ramp and leaped.
Smack!
Perfect balance carried him to the archers' perch. His shortsword became a silver blur.
Gladiators below stared in awe. None had dreamed of such an approach.
BOOM
The main gate shuddered open. Gray-armored elites marched in formation, blades glinting coldly.
Yutaro bellowed:
"Half hold the entrance! Half build barricades with logs!"
Gladiators scrambled - some collecting dead soldiers' weapons, others piling timber beneath the terrace.
"SHOW THEM A GLADIATOR'S MIGHT!" Gletch roared.
"FIGHT TO THE LAST!"
The war cry shook the arena.
Simultaneously.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
The alarm woke Altanic. His scarred overseer burst in, twin swords strapped to his back.
"What's this damned noise?!"
Altanic lounged on his bed, a unconscious maid beside him.
"Master! You must evacuate!"
"Evacuate? From what?"
"Gladiator revolt. Led by Gletch."
Altanic blinked.
"Gletch? That loyal dog?"
He drained a water jug, then shouted:
"Seal the underground exits!"
"Too late. They've reached the first floor."
Altanic's face purpled.
"Fucking incompetent! Where are the guards?!"
"Dead. Elite troops are deployed, but—"
Slam!
Altanic smashed his desk. Humiliation burned hotter than fear.
"Retreat my ass! I'll address them personally! How dare these mongrels I raised bite their master?!"
"Too dangerous. They might have reached—"
"With what wings?!"
Altanic stormed out, remembering his ace.
"Where's Captain Batia?"
"En route from the annex."
Altanic's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Then we've nothing to fear! Move!"
He shoved past his overseer into the corridor—
And froze.
A blood-drenched boy stood waiting, shortsword in hand.
"G-ghost?! How?!"
The overseer stepped forward, drawing twin blades.
Charon's empty gaze locked on them.
No openings. No presence.
An eerie calm.
"Was this your doing?"
The overseer's voice dropped to winter's edge. His scars writhed as muscles bulged.
Charon finally spoke:
"Step aside... if you value your life."
