Chapter 61

Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW

Chapter 61: Forgotten

Marion came back.

Her silver hair was cut even shorter, with new scars on her body, but she looked stronger and taller after almost two years. The gladiator school provided plenty of high-calorie food, intense training, and everything Marion did secretly didn’t make her look tired. Instead, she grew stronger, like a sharpened sword after honing, or a plant thriving in the storm.

She wasn’t alone in her return. Nearly two hundred Orc gladiators, motivated by Marion, picked up weapons and charged towards an unknown future.

The gladiator school provided Marion with a place to connect with her fellow kin. Ghosts silently gathered as rebels behind the scenes. Some people here still had hot blood, but lacked organization and leadership, either ending up in bloody fights or staying silent. Marion, known for her victories, became a flag and a horn, shouting out loud what everyone kept silent about, "Do you want to fight against your own kind for entertainment, waiting to die day by day, or rise up and fight?"

Her voice was loud and clear.

Marion fought tirelessly and never lost, always winning without taking the lives of her opponents. The arena’s owners found it amusing, occasionally sending her into the arena, using her stubbornness as a selling point. They made her fight beasts, skilled groups of gladiators, stripped her of armor and weapons, making the conditions harsher. The audience enjoyed watching her shed blood for this, satisfying her mercy by sparing her opponents upon victory, wondering when she would lose and give up. They admired her strength, mocked her persistence, never realizing that these battles were seen by other gladiators.

Experienced gladiators were silent and indifferent, having struggled through injuries, now giving up and becoming like lap dogs from beasts, mindlessly attacking their own kind. The fights made them see death and killing as normal, but someone now broke their despair. From Marion, they saw power, camaraderie, and hope – she always seized every opportunity, tirelessly describing a safe and free land.

Her words were simple and clumsy, repeatedly saying "believe me." Was there really such a place? Could they trust her? Her promised victories always came on time, her insistence on mercy always fell on the head of the defeated, her described emblem appeared on the stands, and indeed, wealthy merchants bought gladiators. So, perhaps they could trust, and hope.

People happily called her "Miracle Girl", while the gladiators just called her "Miracle", with a tone of reverence they were not even aware of. Marion not only saved their lives – which were not the most important thing, because the lives of gladiators were really not worth mentioning – but most importantly, she reignited their spirits from a place of despair.

She reminded them that they were not born to be slaves.

The time was ripe that evening, and the Orcs from the gladiator school staged a rebellion. They stormed the arena, setting it on fire, and as the flames engulfed the blood-stained building, the ground cracked open, revealing a path leading to the southeast corner.

Marion stood in front of Tasha, who was only half a head taller, and appeared completely grown up. The she-wolf’s eyes sparkled, conveying countless words on her face. Tasha took a step forward, placed the necklace with teeth of wolf and Angaso lion around Marion’s neck (she couldn’t wear it when playing the role of an Orc slave), and then embraced her.

"I’m proud of you," Tasha said.

Marion beamed a big smile, looking exactly as she always had.

The arena owner suffered great losses, as all the gladiators, except for a few loyal Orc slaves, vanished during the uprising. The fire spread to adjacent buildings, and even though the firefighters managed to control the blaze, it burned for two full days. After everything was over, the arena remained just an empty shell. Fortunately, most casualties were among the initial guards, so there weren’t many deaths attributed to the fire – which was not good news for many vested interests, who wished to find two hundred bodies in the flames.

There were only a few gladiators’ bodies found, with others mysteriously vanished without a trace, even the ferocious beasts used in combat shows were nowhere to be seen. The fire sent thick black smoke into the sky, causing chaos among the firefighters. Some guards claimed those people had blended into the crowd, while others, terrified, insisted the Orcs had grown wings and flown away.

The owners were devastated. The Orc slave trade was already an illegal business, with the annual payoffs enough to keep authorities turning a blind eye, so expecting them to mobilize forces to find the missing individuals was out of the question. Moreover, the tribute that should have been handed over to the governor had been disappearing, since the governor had been absent recently, and it seemed like a power shift was looming in Tasmanian. The trade of Orc slaves was as lucrative as evading taxes, but letting Orcs (or gladiators with weapons) escape would lead to severe consequences, enough to see all involved parties hanged.

No, of course no gladiator escaped. Ribe Lake is very safe, how could there be fierce Orcs roaming around? They said this, chuckling. The arena caught fire, and unfortunately the gladiators locked inside were all burnt alive, so the gladiator shows couldn’t go on. They had to pretend everything was fine, swallowing their fear and lying to everyone who came to ask. Regardless of the rumors spreading, they insisted it was just a "fire accident," better to be bankrupt than convicted.

When they tried to restock, the bosses found out that even the slightly decent Orc slaves nearby were already sold out, let alone gladiators. With various buyers, when the remaining slave traders gathered, they vaguely saw the same destination behind the agents. They suspected that gladiators might have also flowed to the southeast corner, but without evidence or a way to provoke. Their requests to the governor were always delayed, and obtaining permits for the southeast area was even more difficult.

The southeast corner welcomed a new member.

The infirmary and doctors had been waiting for a long time, treating the wounded immediately. A seriously injured patient, holding on anxiously, finally relaxed upon seeing Mavis’ ears, clearly not human-like, and then passed out on the bed. A quarter-elf rushed around the infirmary, medicating the patients crying out in pain and smacking a stick on a warrior getting too agitated ready to attack the nurse ("there’s a human here!!"). Minstrel Jacqueline’s singing saved the chaotic scene, with most people falling asleep to the lullabies, the room filled with sleeping figures, like dumplings on the floor.

Two people didn’t fall asleep, staying alert and pulling out their weapons as others collapsed. Marion approached to explain the purpose of the music, to prevent anyone from harming Jacqueline.

"Two hundred percent professional, quite a high ratio," Tasha marveled.

"Most are warriors, it’s nothing special even if they all signed up," Victor sarcastically replied, "It’s really sad, once common warriors have become rare now."

The surviving gladiators woke up to a new world on the second morning.

Jacob woke up from a dream filled with fire and saw the high ceiling. His body didn’t feel quite right, maybe too… soft?

One second he doubted if he was disabled. Jacob rolled out of bed and saw his intact limbs and the soft bed beneath him. The bed was large enough for him to stretch out his limbs. He realized he wasn’t missing any arms or legs. He was just lying in a soft, clean bed, cuddling a fluffy and soft pillow. The thing was too soft, and in his remaining drowsiness, he tightened his arms.

A few seconds passed, and he began to remember what had happened yesterday.

The gladiator’s bed was narrow and low, stacked together. If rolled too forcefully, one could fall off the bed. Getting up too quickly could hit the top bunk or the ceiling. He was obviously not in that cramped and dark place now. The lamp on the table emitted a soft glow. Jacob groped around in the lamplight and remembered he had already handed over his dagger.

Music played in the ward last night, people falling asleep were moved to individual rooms, and Jacob helped out. He didn’t fall asleep but had his weapons confiscated. He was then informed about the washing area, provided with food, clean clothes, and a separate room. So much had happened yesterday; before he could relax, he fell quickly into a dream. Now waking up from the dream, Jacob looked around the empty room, feeling a bit bewildered.

He saw many humans here. The hypnotic song and weapon confiscation heightened his doubts. Jacob was a practical person; he believed Marion but not entirely her words – what if Marion herself had been deceived? He didn’t think anyone would willingly help Orcs, especially a dangerous group of gladiators.

At least the food here isn’t bad, Jacob thought.

The gladiator’s food was high-calorie mush. He couldn’t remember the last time he had real food. The savory grilled meat and crisp sliced vegetables tantalized Jacob’s taste buds. Another thick and fragrant soup wafted in the air. He scraped the bowl with a spoon, maintaining the last bit of dignity not to lick the bottom.

Jacob’s stomach growled with memories. He stood up, pushed the door open, and found the corridor empty.

This was strange. All the gladiators’ rooms were along this corridor. He expected to see some fully armed soldiers when he pushed open the door. The corridor’s lights made the ground as bright as day. It was eerily empty, with no soldiers or iron grilles. The lax security was unimaginable. What were the owners here thinking?

Jacob closed the door, looked back at the symbol on it, and walked forward. Turning a corner, he saw two people sitting behind a table, talking. When they noticed him, they looked up.

"You’re awake!" said the woman with chestnut hair, her rabbit ears standing up on top of her head.

Both of the Orc women appeared well-trained. One of them gave Jacob a wooden token for food and pointed to a map, explaining the symbols for different rooms. Jacob looked at the giant map and focused on a specific location.

"Is that the exit?" he asked, pointing. "Does it lead to the surface?"

"Yes," the woman with rabbit ears smiled.

"Can we leave?" Jacob asked.

"You need to get an ID first," the girl with goat horns explained eagerly. "Go down this path, register your information and take the test on rules. Once the artisans make your ID, you can leave."

"Rules test?"

"It’s simple! Someone will guide you when you get there," they said. "Just remember not to harm others or their property and avoid damaging public property."

"Like this?"

Two girls looked at him, looking a bit confused, as if asking "What else could there be?" Jacob held his menu standing still, frowning at them until they uncertainly glanced at each other and said, "Wait a moment!"

They turned their backs, heads together, and pulled out a crumpled note with scribbled notes on it, counting on their fingers. They whispered to each other for a minute, then when they turned back, they seemed more certain. "No other options!" The girl with rabbit ears said. "If you have any problems, you can come back to us!"

During the time they turned their backs, it was enough time for Jacob to kill them ten times. If this was their guard, the owner of this place must be out of their mind.

Jacob went to the cafeteria feeling puzzled, passing by huge signs with knives and forks on them. Breakfast was different but equally delicious, with not many people there yet. He ran into the sharp-eared doctor from last night (what kind of ears were those anyway?), the doctor who could knock out a gladiator with a rolling pin, who greeted Jacob with a smile and handed him a drink. He cautiously stuck out his tongue and licked it, the taste was quite strange.

People started coming into the cafeteria, with someone quickly scooping porridge for those holding menus, and on the other side was a self-serve buffet. Jacob tried picking up a piece of bread, but no one stopped him. Most people at this time seemed sleepy, humans passed by him, some glanced at his ears but didn’t react further. A short person with barely open eyes nearly bumped into him, Jacob grabbed their collar to straighten them up, and the person even thanked him.

"This place is too strange," Jacob couldn’t put it into words, but it was too strange. Before yesterday, they were mostly under surveillance, the remaining time all planned out, no different from chickens and ducks in the slaughterhouse; yesterday they were still striving for rebellion, ready to kill or be killed at any moment. And then today, bam, he felt like he had fallen into another world, everything was completely different. No hostile looks, no one telling him what to do, no set activities area, no guidelines on what to do, this feeling…empty, not that he found it unpleasant.

He stood in this strange cafeteria for a while, then headed towards the room for getting documents. Jacob asked for directions on the way, just to see the reactions of others. No reaction, the person just pointed the way casually. He arrived at the place he was supposed to go, where the staff asked him some questions, stamped, wrote something, and asked about his future plans.

What were Jacob’s future plans? That’s a good question. Since becoming a gladiator, his only plan was to survive another day. Why ask him? Wasn’t it supposed to be him asking them about their plans for him in the future? The staff continued to explain to him under his blank expression, telling him that after learning the knowledge and regulations here, he could choose to go to the military, school, or a factory, etc. "Career counseling is not offered at this counter," said the human across the table.

He spoke so confidently that Jacob started to doubt if he had misunderstood something. School? Serious? "I am a gladiator," he reminded, pointing to his ear. "I think you’ve already seen it."

"Sorry, there is no fighting here, you can’t go back to your old job," the staff replied calmly. "Not being a human also won’t give you any privileges. If you want to stay here, you need to work or apply for a student loan…"

On that evening, Jacob got his ID card and held onto it tightly like in a dream, walking towards the exit marked on the map. The stairs weren’t very long, and he could already see the daylight at the bottom.

The orange sunset light painted the steps, momentarily making him think of blood or fire. Jacob walked very slowly, as if his feet were sticking to the ground, expecting something to happen at any moment, like the stairs collapsing, flames igniting, the passage closing, and then waking up from a cramped bed… but nothing happened. The wind from the outside blew in through the exit, the air was cool and fresh, and he suddenly smelled the scent of grass.

His nose, numb from the daily smell of blood, sweat, perfume, and stench, suddenly revived. The grass gave off a unique freshness, someone or something had stepped on it, staining the damp earth with grass juice. Unknown flowers exuded fragrance, and fruits emitted a sweet smell. His steps uncontrollably became faster and faster, until he began to run.

Jacob saw the sky.

The setting sun spewed golden light on the horizon, half of the sky was burning red, fiery clouds drifted in the wind, rows of birds flew across the sun; the other half of the sky was calm as a lake, a few stars twinkled on the indigo sky, was that pale crescent the moon? Bursting from underground, Jacob fell into the open air, the vast space made him dizzy. The sky was so vast and boundless! The earth was so vast and infinite! After twenty years, the forest opened its arms to him once again, no high walls, no iron bars, no blood and fire.

After a brief pause, he sprinted again. There was no end here, grass bowed under his feet, the branches and leaves of bushes swayed in the wind he created. Jacob squeezed out the last bit of strength from his body and plunged into the grass. He breathed heavily, his lungs filled with the forest air.

So that’s it. Jacob remembered, this forgotten, unfamiliar feeling–

It is freedom.

He turned around and saw a shadow pass over his head, those huge birds with bat-like wings.

——————————

Victor guessed wrong about two things again, first, not all Professional gladiators in those two are warriors.

"The ranger Jacob, a former gladiator with some Orc heritage. Having lived most of his life in indoor arenas without seeing the sky and nature, the harsh training, constant battles, and numerous near-death experiences gave him the ability to advance to the Professional class. In the moment he stepped back into the forest, he swiftly transitioned from a trainee warrior to a ranger, showing that talent and nature could still determine many things."

The placement of Orc gladiators was proceeding rapidly, Jacob was the quickest to adapt. Upon Marion’s suggestion, he willingly signed a contract with the dungeon for employment.

"To think that a nearly formed warrior class has an epiphany the moment they touch the forest…" Victor exclaimed in surprise. "With this kind of talent, if trained as a ranger from a young age, becoming a legendary figure is almost certain."

The ranger class is a bit like a nature-loving warrior, or a mix of warrior and Druid. They excel in combat with military weapons, have a close connection to nature, are skilled at hiding in natural terrain, tracking, and fighting. They can use some natural spells, befriend animals, and the forest is the best battlefield for them. An innate talent like the half-orc by nature, locked away in the Steel Forest for over twenty years, is truly quite tragic to think about.

Just like the naturally gifted Saint Child Samuel, Jacob can be said to be born in the wrong era.

So it’s not strange to feel this way with an extra skill.

Natural Summoner: Standing at the center of the world, you can call upon nature. When nature is in a good mood, it might help you out a bit. Using this skill can summon Natural Aura in different places, like making a few weeds grow on the stone ground of a prison to comfort the nature creatures locked inside.

While not very strong, this skill doesn’t use up much energy. When Druids and Rangers get into fights in places like cities, casting this spell beforehand can improve their fighting environment, even if just a little.

However, Jacob, who has Mountain Lion bloodline, was the only Orc to sign up this time.

Half-orcs didn’t sign up with Dungeon, their group is too diverse to be categorized as a collective group, lacking a leader figure. Marion is a worthy spiritual leader, but she is more like a figurehead, as the specifics of organizing and leading are handled by someone else. There are two others who can be considered uprising leaders, one is the big guy Terence with bull horns, and the other is the more experienced warrior Zachary with bird claws.

Terence and Marion entered the gladiator school together, composed and fierce. Zachary is a seasoned gladiator and, other than Jacob, he is another person not hypnotized by Minstrel Jacqueline’s music, a professional warrior. They have their differences but work together towards the same goal.

They had to leave.

"Thank you very much for your help, but we can’t stay here," said Terence. "Many of our kind are suffering in human cities, and we must continue the fight."

"The orcs didn’t run out of that cage just to end up in another one," Zachary added bluntly.

"What do you mean by another cage?" Marion frowned.

"It means, if you want to be a dog, go ahead, we don’t need a master," Zachary sneered.

Marion grabbed his collar and lifted him up, while Terence quickly intervened.

After successfully rebelling in unity, disagreements arose among the half-orcs. Some gladiators wanted to settle down here, while others wanted to continue fighting. Zachary was the most radical among them, considering those who wanted to stay as weak and traitors, and believing Marion was not worthy of being a leader.

"You are just a target set up by your master, a fake image," Zachary once said during an argument.

Tasha clapped her hands to signal them to stop their escalating dispute. "Excuse me," she said, "forget about what I think for now, if there were no external influences, what would you do?"

"We fight," Terence said firmly, "until all our brethren are freed."

"We seek revenge," Zachary said gloomily, "humans should taste the suffering we have endured."

Marion opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, and said nothing.

Tasha nodded to show she had heard. Then she asked, "Do you know how strong the power of humans is?"

"No strength can stop us," Terence said.

"You misunderstood me," Tasha said. "I’m not asking about your determination, I’m asking about your plans."

How much do you know about the troops in different areas of Aryan?

How many soldiers are stationed in each region? What weapons do they have? How do the leaders in different areas feel about other races? Which ones can be used, which ones can be persuaded, and which ones must be fought to the end? If you don’t know any of the above, at least have some basic knowledge, for example, draw a detailed map of Aryan.

How much do you know about the half-orc situation in Aryan?

Approximately how many scattered wild Orc tribes are there? Which ones just want to hide, and which are willing to fight? How many fighting Orc slaves are there, and how many are elderly, weak, sick, or disabled and need protection? If you want to free all Orcs, have you thought about where to start, and how to settle the rescued Orcs?

"It seems you don’t know," Tasha shook her head sadly. "If anyone knows the answer, please tell me first."

The faces of the three people darkened a little when they heard the question. Marion bit her lip, Terence furrowed his brow, and Zachary reluctantly said, "How will we know if we don’t try?"

"Try?" Tasha raised an eyebrow, "Are you asking us to risk our lives?"

"That’s still our choice," Zachary said firmly, "Do you want to imprison us under the guise of protection?"

Tasha chuckled, looking at Zachary as if he were a foolish person.

"You seem to have misunderstood something," she said, "I provided weapons for your uprising and have since offered shelter, food, and medicine…"

"Do you think you can buy our lives this way?" Zachary frowned.

"No, you are all free now," Tasha smiled, "Since I am not your slave owner and you are not my property, please repay everything you consume with your labor."