"It seems that those Germanic are nothing special." After witnessing the conflict with his own eyes, Varro seemed to have changed his mind.
On the other hand, Zhang Heng had a different opinion. "You can't say that."
"Huh?"
"In terms of strength, the gladiators are indeed stronger, but don't forget that those Germanic were brought back from the front line. They were exhausted from the journey, and their physical and mental state were not at their best. When they arrived here, they only had forty to fifty percent of their strength left. And it seems that the gladiator school intended to teach them a lesson. Although they only brought six gladiators to greet them, and it seems like they don't care about them at all, I dare say that even if these six gladiators are not the best gladiators in the school, they are definitely above average. To put it simply, these Germanic were tricked by the school. After this incident, they will build up their respect for the school. At the same time, they will work harder to wash away today's humiliation in the future training."
After Zhang Heng finished speaking, he found that Varro was staring at him blankly.
"What's wrong?"
Varo hesitated for a moment and said sympathetically, "The political struggle between the nobles in the Great Han Empire must be very cruel. Otherwise, how could you associate so many things from a single incident? You're just like a senior member of the Senate."
"…"
The two did not manage to enjoy the show for long. With the arrival of the Germanic, the new batch of slaves purchased by the gladiator school had arrived. So the person in charge of the gladiator school summoned everyone to the training ground.
There were about forty to fifty people in total. In addition to the six Germanic, there were also Gauls, Parthians, Sami, and Zhang Heng, a Han from the far east. Some of them were prisoners of war, some were slaves, and some were civilians and fallen Roman nobles who volunteered to become gladiators. Judging by the origin of these people, it looked like a small international exchange.
Everyone stood together in a mess, whispering to each other, and everyone had a different look on their faces.
Zhang Heng noticed a touch of excitement on Varro's face. Today was the first day of school for the gladiators. According to the usual practice, the owner of the gladiator school would definitely show up.
At that time, Varro would be able to promote his business talents to the other party. If everything went well, he would not need to stay here anymore. He could walk on the streets again and breathe the air of freedom. Of course, his freedom was limited, but it was much better than becoming a gladiator and fighting in the arena or farming in the countryside.
Varro also glanced at Zhang Heng beside him. Zhang Heng's face didn't show any signs of fear or apprehension. Instead, he looked interested as if he was taking a tour. Varro couldn't help but admire this young noble from the Great Han Empire for being so open-minded.
Finally, just when everyone was getting a little impatient under the scorching sun, the main character finally appeared.
It was a middle-aged Roman who looked a little stout, wearing a short-sleeved long-sleeved shirt that was commonly seen on the streets of Rome. A blanket-like cloak was draped over his shoulders. The length of the cloak varied from left to right. The left part of the cloak passed under his arm, wrapped around his chest and neck, and tucked into his waist. One of his hands was dragging a piece of cloth, and the other hand was empty. The emerald ring on it was very conspicuous.
Zhang Heng learned from Varro that not everyone could wear this most distinctive Roman robe. Slaves, foreigners, and even liberated slaves could only wear the long robe inside. They were not allowed to wear the cloak on the outside.
Beside the middle-aged Roman, there were two young, beautiful female slaves. One of them carefully supported him, and the other was behind him to cover him from the sun. The three of them appeared on the balcony on the second floor of the building directly in front of the training ground.
The trainer waved the whip in his hand, and the people on the training ground finally quieted down a little. After that, the person in charge of the school bowed to the middle-aged Roman, "Master, everyone is here."
"Let's get started." It was obviously not the first time the middle-aged Roman did this. He nodded and sat on a chair in the middle of the balcony. He looked like an emperor sitting on a throne, overlooking the people under his feet.
His name was Mark Reuss, and he ran the second-largest gladiator school in Rome. He had more than four hundred gladiators under his command. The arena outside, the theater next to the arena, the three gladiator training grounds, and the lounge were all his assets.
In a sense, he was indeed like an emperor here.
It was obviously not the first time Mark Reuss did this. He waved his hand at the person in charge of the school, and the latter immediately shouted at the gladiators in front of him.
"Take off your clothes!"
Everyone looked at each other when they heard that. It was not until the trainer raised the whip again that they slowly began to take off their clothes, revealing their muscular bodies. Varro initially thought that the unruly Germanic would make trouble at this time, but he did not expect them to take off their clothes after hesitating for a while.
At this point, Varro could not help but admire Zhang Heng's speculation.
Everyone took off their clothes one after another, but the trainers did not seem satisfied. So the gladiators on the training ground continued to take off their clothes until only a loincloth was left. Only then did the middle-aged Roman finally express his satisfaction.
He stood up and looked at them one by one, muttering, "Very good, very good. This time, those greedy slave traders finally found me some decent goods."
The person in charge of the school also said, "These guys should be able to make up for the manpower we lost earlier."
"But their prices are not cheap either." The middle-aged Roman's eyes flickered. "Where is the Germanic that cost me 7,000 sestertius?"
The trainer motioned to Bach, and the latter walked out of the crowd with some dissatisfaction.
"Come closer. Let me have a good look," Mark Reuss said.
Bach could only take two more steps forward and came downstairs.
"Well, do you think he is better than Sethnets?" Mark Reuss asked the person in charge of the school.
"This … is a little difficult. Sethnets is the three-time champion of the Victor Arena. No one can defeat him. When he first arrived, it took four good gladiators to defeat him." Although saying this might upset Mark Reuss, the person in charge of the school decided to tell the truth after thinking about it. Otherwise, if Bach's future growth did not meet expectations, he and his trainer would be the ones to suffer. "Although Bach's potential is not bad, there is still a big gap between him and Sethnets."
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