gods and mortals (provisional name and Prototipe)

deal to death

Chapter 3

Having rested for a few days, allowing my wounds to heal, I resumed my training routine. For someone like me, risking my life in the coliseum, I can't afford to be negligent. Since I have only one ability and I'm not skilled in direct combat, training my body is vital. Yet, the things I do with my ability are not to be underestimated.

One day, a novice gladiator seeking to improve his combat defense asked me to make him a breastplate; I refused. However, he persisted, and after much insistence, I agreed, although the price I quoted him was not small. As he showed good results in his fights, many other novice gladiators and a few veterans started asking me for weapons or armor. There was one who asked me for something unusual, and obviously, I charged them a lot.

There were some fools who decided to use the items I made for them when it was their turn against me—a grave mistake. Although for others, using the items along with their abilities is an improvement, it's not the same for me. From an outsider's perspective, I'm just someone who enters the arena with simple armor and a sword, and that's where my nickname comes from. So, for that reason, I must train to the limit.

"97, 98, 99, 100!"

Here, I am in a park, exercising with weights I made myself. After finishing chest repetitions, I put the half-ton weight back in its place. Some time ago, I read an interesting book on anatomy as a child, which stated that the physical capabilities of living beings in the past cannot be compared to the present. It's a side effect of the abilities in the body that strengthened over generations. So, even without any physical enhancement ability, with proper training, one can achieve impressive feats of strength. Good news for those who have only one ability or none, like me. Although it's a superficial relief considering that some have two or more abilities that increase strength, which is ridiculous.

My phone started ringing. Checking it, I see it's a message from the coliseum.

"Darn it, aren't they going to let me rest? It's only been a few days!"

The message informed me of the date of my next match and its conditions.

"Well, most likely, it'll be another deathmatch with beasts."

Assuming that, I accept.

"Haaa... if they didn't pay me so well, I wouldn't have accepted."

I put away my phone and resume my routine.

"All right, now I'll do about ten sets of one hundred squats and then a hundred crunches with..."

That's how I spent my day.

………….

Time passed, and the day of my match arrived. I was watching a match in a room with another gladiator while waiting for my turn.

"Ooohhh, that kid has improved a lot, don't you think, Hefestos?"

"So it seems."

Responding to the middle-aged gladiator, I observe the fight of that rookie who was the first to ask me for armor. His name is Rava. Like me, that rookie has only one ability, which is exhaling fire. Although to me, that monkey-like appearance of his must be an ability, no matter how much he denies it.