My Dungeon Life: Rise of the Slave Harem

A fist slammed into my face. There was a time I seemed to recall really hating pain. I would do just about anything to avoid it. Sometime after my soul was cut in two and then I was forced to feel the pain of soul refinement, my outlook on pain had started to change. I had allowed him to hit me because I wanted to get a feel for his level. Even with his gauntleted fist on, I had the mentality that any pain would be temporary. I could always just heal myself.

To these contestants, they would have to go to a priest to heal themselves, and most priest spells took time. It ranged anywhere from an hour to a few days, but the kind of instantaneous fixes I could do were a third-tier White Magician. To reach that level, you would have to first become a Basic Magician and then work toward Intermediate Magician.

Only then, dedicating your life to healing, would you finally be able to unlock the White Mage job and learn such healing spells. When it came to a priest, healing was one of the first spells you learned, and you could become a priest simply by joining a church and taking the vows. Truly, I had jumped my place when I came to this world, and even if I hadn’t understood it at the time, White Mage was truly an overpowered starting job.

When it came to contestants, these were commoners and others that were part of the underworld. Gladiators were often supported and sponsored by the wealthy, but these guys had no one. Even being able to afford a priest would be a costly maneuver. That meant that every strike you faced was meaningful. As the fist struck my face, the crowds immediately reacted with hisses. To them, such a direct strike would be something that might even handicap and contestant permanently.

“That was it?”

I let out such cocky words before I had even stopped to think about it. The man named Rex the Hex took several steps back, looking down at his gauntlet in shock. I wasn’t sure if I should play it like I was hurt, thus pretending I was weak to lure my enemies in, or if I should come out as overbearing. If it came to earning cred, which would be better?

That’s when I noticed that the gauntlet in his hand had something hidden in it. Had he not been staring at his hand in obvious confusion, I wouldn’t have noticed. I reached out and grabbed his hands like an adult would grab a child trying to hide something. He let out a cry, but he was too slow and too weak for my movements. I turned his hand over to reveal that within his gauntlet was a little blade.

When he punched, the blade must have come out and stabbed into the person, doing extra hidden damage. However, the reason he was caught off guard was that he had punched me, and the blade had not punctured my skin. It was only made of iron, after all. It had cut me slightly, but I had Regen on and the very small amount of damage it did heal before anyone could see it.

“Is this allowed?” I asked, holding up Rex’s gauntleted hand, revealing the trick.

He was still attached to his glove though and was trying to force the glove away from me, but absolutely couldn’t manage. The cheering all seemed to cease as people stared dumbfounded.

“Ah! D-disqualified!” The referee finally recollected himself.

I let him go, and the man turned and fled in embarrassment, being booed the entire time.

“Wait, was that a victory?” I asked as I left the ring past the referee.

“Since the match was disqualified, the bets will be returned, however, you’ll still be given a win.”

I felt like crying. Next time, I’d just punch them and collect my money.