Lighthearted Gladiator Talk

The narrow alley fell silent once more after the drunk collapsed unconscious. Only the sound of drip… drip… water trickling from the rotting wooden roof kept them company.

Ayato still gripped his sword hilt. But his breath caught—not from danger, but because of the figure before him.

Ragna. Her wide grin hadn’t changed, and the heat radiating from her body seemed to burn away the chill of night. Her hood slipped slightly, revealing blazing eyes—the eyes of someone who lived for battle.

“Yo! We meet again, kid!” Her voice boomed with confidence.

Ayato swallowed. The world he knew—where every threat equaled death—clashed with this woman’s aura. Ragna wasn’t merely dangerous. She surged.

TAP. TAP. Ragna strolled casually, as if this filthy alley was her stage. She stopped right in front of Ayato, leaning down so their eyes met.

“Still stunned?” She chuckled. “Haha, normal. Rare for a newbie to stare at me without breaking into cold sweat.”

Ayato exhaled, fighting the urge to draw his blade.

What does this woman want…?

“Heh. Forget the small talk—how about we chat in a better way?”

Bwoosh! Heat surged. Without warning, the woman swung a fist.

CLANG! Ayato parried with his blade. Sparks flew.

DUG! TANG! SWISH!

Fists, kicks, and slashes collided. Ayato quickly read her rhythm, trying to cut into her momentum. But every strike drew a counter. Every dodge, a follow-up.

“Ugh… she’s… reading my moves?”

The woman burst into wild laughter. “HAHA! This is fun! Sharp reflexes, kid!”

Sweat dripped down Ayato’s temple. He realized—the fight was stagnant. Neither side fell. Worse, he felt her still holding back.

“…She’s not serious,” he muttered inside.

The woman clearly savored every clash. Eyes gleaming beneath her hood.

Ayato steadied his breath, ready to unleash everything—

“Stop.”

She suddenly raised her hand. Took a half-step back. Then—HAHAHAHA!—her laugh echoed through the alley.

“That was awesome! Been a while since I had such a good conversation with my fists!”

Ayato blinked. His hand still on his sword. “…Conversation...?”

The woman slowly pulled down her hood. Black hair fading into fiery red-orange spilled out, shimmering like tamed embers. Her sharp gaze and wide grin brimmed with confidence—with challenge, as if daring anyone to falter before her.

“My name’s Ragna Valtes. Gladiator.”

The name triggered Ayato’s memory. The instructor this morning… stories of a woman who revolutionized the Colosseum.

And yes, I also chatted with her at the Colosseum… so she really is—

Ayato gauged her aura. A chill down his spine—strength on par with Aurellia. No mistake, she wasn’t ordinary. It confirmed his hunch: Ragna was one of the Five Legends Lys had mentioned.

Ragna struck her chest with a clenched fist. Bam! “I’m an idiot—don’t like using my brain. The only way I can talk is with fists!”

“…Talk?” Ayato frowned.

“Yep! If my opponent’s strong, it feels amazing! If they’re weak, no problem—they’ve got their own way to ‘say’ things. Everyone’s got a fighting style, and I wanna feel them all!”

Ayato stared blankly. That explanation only worsened his headache.

“HAHA! Look at your face. You don’t get it, huh? Don’t bother thinking!” Ragna waved dismissively. “Anyway, join the tournament next week. I know you’ll blow up the stage!”

“…I’m not interested,” Ayato replied curtly.

In truth, he had to join the tournament to obtain the Sanctuary key, but for now he’d play dumb.

“Sure about that? Fighting in the Colosseum isn’t just muscle against muscle. It’s fire that burns the soul! And me…” Ragna pointed at her chest again. “I live for that fire!”

Ayato said nothing. The words echoed, but he refused to answer.

Ragna turned to leave. But Ayato spoke up.

“Hey. Are you… one of the Five Legends?”

Her steps froze. Their eyes met.

For a moment, her heat died down—replaced by puzzlement. “Five… what?”

Ayato stiffened. He quickly shook his head. “Forget it.”

Ragna shrugged, then laughed. “Haha! You’re weird, kid.”

With a wave of her hand, she walked away, leaving behind a lingering heat in the alley.

Ayato stood frozen, sword at his side.

“…Ragna Valtes.” Her name rang in his ears.