The Colosseum Trial
“This being a test is rather unusual, isn’t it?”
Seere’s remark drew an agreeing nod from Nahen. They were currently inside the Hirpus Colosseum, the grand arena on the 24th floor owned by Glasyalabolas. Known as the “Battlefield of Wolves,” it was the largest and most famous arena on the entire floor.
The question of why Nahen and Seere had come here required a brief journey back through time.
A few hours earlier.
Nahen had brought the disguised Seere and Secily with him to the Demon King’s castle. After sending word ahead, they arrived following a short wait. Upon reaching the castle on the 24th floor, a man greeted them warmly.
“Welcome. I am Colton, the steward of this castle. You must be Lord Nahen, the one expected to visit?”
“Yes. I apologize for the sudden visit.”
“Not at all. Her Majesty awaits in the audience chamber. Please, come this way.”
He guided Nahen inside with polite deference until they stood before the massive doors of the audience hall.
What an imposing scale.
That was Nahen’s first impression. The size of a Demon King’s castle often reflected the ruler’s power. Glasyalabolas, ranked 24th, possessed an enormous castle, and her audience chamber was correspondingly vast—built so high and wide that it seemed almost impractical.
Nahen turned to Colton. “May we enter?”
“Yes, though the maids accompanying you should wait outside.”
“Understood.”
Seere looked mildly displeased at being told to wait, but it was the safer choice. Facing Glasyalabolas directly risked exposing her true identity.
Colton knocked lightly on the doors and announced in a clear voice, “Your Majesty! An envoy from Devata Castle has arrived!”
“Let them in.”
At the voice from within, the guards opened the heavy doors. The moment Nahen stepped inside, they shut firmly behind him.
Before he could even raise his head to look at her, Nahen bowed low.
“It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty. I am Nahen, the royal tutor serving Her Majesty Seere von Devata.”
A perfectly ordinary, courteous greeting. Yet Glasyalabolas’s reaction was unexpected.
“…Ah, so you’re that infamous tutor from Devata everyone’s been talking about?”
She recognized him. Nahen answered with mild surprise.
“That is correct.”
“Only thirteen years since your appointment, and you’ve raised her rank from the very bottom all the way to 50th. I wasn’t particularly interested when I first heard the rumors… but meeting her in person changed my mind.”
Nahen sensed the shift in atmosphere. Though he still hadn’t looked directly at Glasyalabolas, the tone of her voice had changed.
“That wasn’t the power of a mere 50th-ranked Demon King. The one responsible for making her that strong… must be you, her tutor.”
Nahen lifted his head. He hadn’t received permission, but he did so anyway. He had intended to play the part of a compliant subordinate, yet once she had already gauged Seere’s strength, there was no point in continuing the act.
He met Glasyalabolas’s gaze directly. The woman with silver-gray hair tinged in blue slowly curved her lips into a smile.
“Good. Let’s drop the pointless pretense. I find you quite fascinating.”
“I’m honored that you feel that way.”
“How did you do it?”
“If you’re referring to Seere’s martial prowess, it wasn’t my teaching so much as her own talent.”
“Nonsense. Talent alone could never have produced that level of growth.”
Her blue eyes, like a predator eyeing prey, fixed on him.
“Speak plainly.”
“…There seems to be a misunderstanding,” Nahen said simply. “I belong to Devata, not to the 24th floor. If you have demands, it would be best to hear our side of the story first, wouldn’t it?”
“Are you trying to negotiate with me?”
“You haven’t even heard why we requested this audience.”
“You don’t know me well. I don’t listen to those weaker than myself.”
Glasyalabolas grinned sharply.
“If you truly wish to speak with me, you’ll have to prove your strength.”
“Then I will.”
“What?”
“If I demonstrate my power to Your Majesty, I ask that you hear our story first. After that… you may say whatever you wish.”
“……”
Glasyalabolas slowly broke into a satisfied smile.
“That bold attitude—I like it! Very well, then…”
Her eyes gleamed with unrestrained interest.
“Shall we put you to the test?”
“Agreed.”
A deal had been struck. In exchange for proving his strength through the test Glasyalabolas demanded, she would listen to his story. Everything had gone exactly as Nahen intended. Glasyalabolas’s personality—valuing strength above all and showing unconditional interest in the powerful—remained unchanged from the game.
“Then the test will be this.”
“Please, name it.”
Yet the content of the test was not what Nahen had expected.
“Defeat the champion of this colosseum and return victorious!”
“…Pardon?”
“Hm? Don’t tell me you’re afraid?”
“No, that’s not it. I assumed Your Majesty would have me spar with one of your proud subordinates.”
“Oh? You read the situation well.”
“Pardon?”
“The champion of the largest and most famous arena on the 24th floor is one of my subordinates. You must defeat him.”
Learning that the colosseum champion was Glasyalabolas’s subordinate came as quite a surprise. Nahen asked with a hint of discomfort, “Wouldn’t that be unfair to the other fighters?”
“Unfair how? There’s no rule stating soldiers can’t participate in the arena.”
“I see…”
He had hoped for a quiet sparring match, not a public spectacle in the colosseum. Nahen sighed inwardly and addressed Glasyalabolas.
“Understood. Shall I head there immediately?”
“I’ll send word to the arena. You may go and prepare at once.”
“Yes.”
It would draw attention, but at least the conditions were simple. No complicated demands—just proof of strength. How convenient.
“Then I’ll depart now.”
#
That was how it had come to this. The very next day after meeting Glasyalabolas, they had come to the colosseum to undergo her test.
Seere glanced around and spoke. “Teacher, there are quite a lot of eyes on us.”
“They’re probably just curious.”
An outsider suddenly challenging the champion would naturally pique the fighters’ interest. They were trying to stay hidden while observing the waiting room, though they had clearly been noticed.
“Shouldn’t we just deal with them?”
“Let it be. No need to cause unnecessary commotion.”
“That’s not it… Their stares are irritating.”
“Hm?”
Nahen tilted his head, and Secily explained.
“They’re not looking at you, Lord Nahen. They’re staring at Her Majesty and me. They look like men starved for women.”
“Ah…”
Most of the arena fighters were male. Rough work like this tended to attract male demons. Understanding the situation, Nahen let out a small sigh and scattered a trace of mana around them. The fighters flinched and quickly scattered one by one.
“Better now?”
“Thank you.”
“Haa… That was exhausting to endure.”
Seere glanced sideways at Nahen and murmured quietly, “It’s fine if it’s you looking at me like that, though.”
“Dream on.”
At Nahen’s blunt rejection, Seere puffed out her cheeks. He chuckled and gently patted her head, causing her puffed cheeks to deflate slightly.
“When does it start?”
“It should begin soon.”
“Huuu…”
Seere seemed to ponder for a moment before releasing her mana into the surroundings. She then gathered it back, storing external mana within her hair. Seeing several new red streaks appear, Nahen looked at her in surprise.
“Seere, your mana has increased quite a bit.”
“Oh, really? Eight years of daily practice without rest paid off.”
“…Truly?”
“Yes.”
Nahen was moved. The amount of mana he had just sensed from Seere was genuinely substantial—enough to feel slightly burdensome even to him. Over the past eight years, she had truly done well on her own.
With a fatherly smile, he patted her head again.
“You did wonderfully.”
“…Hehe.”
Seere beamed, and Nahen found her utterly endearing. Then a sudden question occurred to him.
“By the way, Seere, why did you suddenly gather external mana just now?”
“To prepare for ‘someday.’”
“Hm?”
Seere only smiled mysteriously and offered no further explanation. Nahen regarded her curiously, but she simply continued smiling. At that moment, a man entered their waiting room.
“Are you ready?”
He was one of the arena officials. Nahen rose to his feet.
“Ah, yes.”
“…You won’t be wearing armor?”
“Is it required?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Then I’m fine.”
Nahen flicked his fingers lightly. The space before his hand warped, opening a small rift. The official’s eyes widened as he watched. Nahen casually reached inside and drew out his sword.
“A… magic sword?”
“Am I not allowed to use one?”
“Ah, no! I just thought something might happen, so…”
At the official’s words, Nahen reluctantly returned the sword to the rift. Seere commented dryly, “They’re quite strict.”
“Indeed.”
The official cleared his throat awkwardly and said to Nahen, “We’ll lend you a weapon. Use that instead.”
“Understood.”
“The participant, please follow me. The others should wait here.”
Nahen nodded and turned to Seere and Secily.
“I’ll be back.”
“Yes, Lord Nahen.”
Secily bowed politely. Seere, watching her, mimicked the gesture and said, “Please return safely, Master.”
“……”
He knew she was only acting as a maid, but the line was still deeply embarrassing. Nahen coughed and addressed the official.
“W-well, let’s go.”
“Ah, yes.”
#
The Hirpus Colosseum was packed with spectators. Among the crowded stands, the most prominent area was the balcony reserved for VIPs.
“Is it starting soon?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Glasyalabolas sat there, sipping wine. She watched with keen interest, waiting for the match to begin. Her wait was nearly over. A man in a neatly tailored tuxedo stepped onto the training grounds and amplified his voice with magic.
“Thank you all for waiting! The special match hosted by Her Majesty Glasyalabolas is about to begin!”
“Ooh!”
“Finally!”
The announcer’s words ignited excitement throughout the stands.
“Our first participant is the eternal champion of the Hirpus Colosseum—Arjuna! I’m sure everyone knows this monstrous fighter who has defended his title twelve times in a row!”
“Arjuna! I bet on you again!”
“This time you might lose! Upset, let’s go!!”
The crowd reacted mostly positively to the champion’s introduction.
“And the challenger from outside who has issued a challenge to the champion—Nahen!”
“Who’s that?”
“An outsider? How strong could he be?”
“If he’s challenging the champion, he must be pretty strong, right?”
The challenger’s introduction was met mostly with curiosity.
“Let’s take a look at the odds for this match. The numbers are…!”
Light projected from a magical device began forming characters in the sky. The displayed ratio was an overwhelming 1 to 19. If the champion lost and the challenger won, those who bet on the challenger would receive nineteen times their wager.
“An incredible result! The trust in the champion is truly immense!”
“An upset would be huge.”
“Like that’s gonna happen.”
“The upset bettors are going to lose their minds again.”
Yet it also meant that the vast majority believed in the champion’s victory. After twelve successful title defenses, his prestige was that great.
“Now, let’s meet the fighters! Please enter the arena!”
The doors on both sides of the training grounds opened. From one side emerged the champion, Arjuna, clad in silver armor. From the other walked a man—black-haired, carrying only a single sword, without any armor at all.
“What?”
“Where’s his armor?”
“He’s practically unarmed!”
The spectators murmured in confusion. But once a fighter had entered the arena, they couldn’t return to change equipment. And the challenger, Nahen, showed no intention of doing so anyway. Though most had bet on the champion, the few who had placed upset bets groaned in despair.
“Ah, damn… It was a trap.”
“Why do upsets always lose…?”
Regardless of the crowd’s reaction, Nahen wore a rather relaxed expression. He didn’t seem careless, but he was clearly at ease. Seeing that look, Arjuna thought this wasn’t the challenger’s first time in such a situation.
Arjuna and Nahen exchanged a brief handshake before moving apart. The announcer addressed them.
“Both fighters, please take your starting positions. The match will begin as soon as you’re ready.”
Once they stood on their marks, the announcer asked, “Ready?”
Arjuna nodded. Nahen formed an “O” with his fingers.
“Then…”
The announcer raised his hand high.
“Begin!!”
BOOOOOOM———
The moment the announcer’s hand dropped, a thunderous crash echoed through the arena. It sounded as though something had violently struck metal. The announcer looked up in slight confusion…
“…Huh?”
He saw the champion lying flat on his back, having fallen the instant the match started.