Vision returned quickly, along with the pain. Thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken—not that I wanted to check. I stayed on the ground in the same position, hoping this time they might forget about me. I really didn’t want to train here. That lightning attack from the woman earlier had hurt enough.
The others were laughing loudly, probably at me, but that didn’t bother me. Let them laugh and carry on like the good little slaves—or whatever they were. They probably didn’t get much to laugh about in their lives, so I was happy to provide some entertainment in exchange for a bit of peace. Honestly, I’d have made a great Jedi. Well, except for their whole "always going to war" thing instead of just keeping the peace. Then again, the Sith started most of the fights, so maybe the Jedi were in the right after all.
The big guy—Instructor Romar, if I remembered correctly—was now shouting at the others. I wasn’t entirely sure they were slaves, but they wore the same outfit I did, so it seemed likely.
The sound of fighting resumed, and I heard explosions from spells going off. Magic looked cool, but I bet it was exhausting to use. If I had to learn any magic, I hoped it would be something practical, like cleaning a room or helping me sleep. Speaking of which, I really needed food. Whatever body I was in now hadn’t seen much of it.
Heavy footsteps approached me. The big guy was getting closer. I sprang into action, though not in the way most people would. I started counting sheep.
"Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen… oh, it’s working," I thought as I let myself drift into a world of wonders and—
"You useless slave! Get up off the ground! Do you think you can just lie there and skip training?" Romar roared, lifting me up by the neck.
Interestingly, the compulsion didn’t seem to apply to rhetorical questions. That was already a big win for me. Today was shaping up to be a good day. Or so I thought—until he started slapping my face repeatedly. I quickly gave up trying to enjoy my small victory and raised my hands to protect myself, finally opening my eyes.
I had no idea what my face looked like now, but I was willing to bet it still looked better than Romar’s did back on Earth—if this even was Earth. I glanced around, ignoring the big guy’s yelling. Three suns hovered over the horizon, which explained the intense heat. It was hotter than Earth by far, but surprisingly, it didn’t bother me much.
What did bother me was the next slap to my face. Looking at Romar’s red, furious expression, I decided to give him a bit of my attention. A rare favor, as I valued my time and preferred to spend it enjoying myself or sharing good times with others. Sharing fun was the best—like back when I’d invite my neighbors over for drinks and a feast straight off my smoker. Ah, the good old days.
I didn’t get far into my daydreams before Romar threw me to the ground. This time, I decided to stand up, though not because I was told to. If he ever gave me a command like “always stand up,” that could be a nightmare. I’d have to learn to sleep standing, and that didn’t sound comfortable at all.
“What’s your name?” Romar demanded.
It was interesting that I could resist the compulsion this time. Maybe because he asked me a direct question? I decided to experiment by trying to say a fake name.
“My name is John,” I said instead of the "Fred" I’d planned.
Apparently, lying wasn’t an option. Good to know. Maybe I’d have better luck with less explicit questions. That was something I’d have to figure out later.
“I am Instructor Romar. You will do everything I say. The next few days will be very hard, and...”
I tuned him out at that point, distracted by one of the fighters in the arena impaling his opponent with an earth spike. That looked… painful. Would a medic be able to help him? Did medics even exist here?
Before I could think about it further, the impaled guy dissolved into a breeze and reappeared a couple of meters away, his wounds rapidly healing.
Wow. Magic was awesome. They could make a TV show out of this—or, better yet, teach these people to play American football. I’d definitely watch that, and I’d happily cook for anyone who came over to watch with me.
Of course, that plan required having a home. Or food.
"...That’s why you need to learn as fast as possible. Now, follow me," Instructor Romar finished and began walking toward one of the entrances on the side of the colosseum. I followed him—not like I had a choice. This world was already annoying, and I couldn’t be bothered to care that much.
Most people would probably be shocked, excited, or show some kind of emotion in my position. My emotional spectrum, however, was pretty narrow. I didn’t care about all the new stuff here or the fact that my old life had ended. Honestly, I was more curious about what had happened to Ellie when my body died. She probably didn’t miss me much—maybe just during the Super Bowl when there was no one fun to hang out with anymore. Ellie had plenty of friends and guys chasing her, but most of them always felt off to me.
After trailing behind Romar through yet another labyrinth of corridors, we arrived at a smaller arena where more people were waiting. This one was different. There were more instructors here than in the first arena. About fifty other slaves were gathered, looking all sorts of ways—some crying, others staring blankly at the ceiling or ground, and a few who actually seemed excited.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
And then there was me: the lazy, uncaring kind.
There were over thirty instructors, though all of them were much smaller than Romar, who stood out like a mountain among hills.
“Greetings, Instructor Valrik. This is the new slave made by Mistress Nadia,” Romar said, addressing one of the smaller men.
“Ah, yes. Then we can finally begin. Thank you, Romar. Have you told him what will happen here?” Valrik
asked.
“Yes, I did. Good luck with the training.” With that, Romar turned and left.
It was interesting that the compulsion no longer worked. I wasn’t forced to follow him. Was it because they had stopped walking for a moment before continuing? Or maybe it was because Romar had said, "Follow me now?" The last option didn’t seem likely.
Valrik gave me a strange look, and since the situation felt awkward, I decided to approach one of the crying girls. There were both boys and girls here, all looking pretty decent. No two of them looked alike, though. Half were male, and the other half—logically—female.
The girl I approached was crying hard. She’d probably lost her family or kids. I decided against talking to her, realizing it would probably only make things worse. I knew what that felt like. When my parents and my brother died from heart attacks, I couldn’t just snap out of it either. It wasn’t something you could be easily distracted from.
The instructors, however, didn’t seem to care. They began shouting commands at the group. Everyone else seemed to have no choice but to obey because of the compulsion. But for some reason, it didn’t affect me.
And then it hit me—like a lightning bolt. Mistress Nadia had given Romar full command over me, but Romar must’ve forgotten to pass it along to the instructors here.
For now, I decided to play along. Valrik was shouting for everyone to listen, so I pretended to pay attention. Those who were crying on their knees were now crying while standing, all thanks to the commands. Monsters. Didn’t they realize these people weren’t in any condition to do anything?
Apparently not, as Valrik continued talking. I didn’t listen to most of it. Instead, I watched the other slaves. It was fascinating how some were having the worst time of their lives while others seemed thrilled to be here. The happy ones were the majority, oddly enough. If I got the chance, I wanted to ask them why they were so excited about being slaves.
“...And that’s why it’s important that you push yourselves as far as possible in the coming days. Now step into a circle and try to do what I just told you,” Instructor Valrik finished.
I looked down and saw a glowing blue circle around my feet. Okay… what exactly was I supposed to do with a magic circle? I really should’ve paid more attention to what Valrik was saying.
I watched the others. They were squinting their eyes or thrusting one hand forward, as if trying to push something invisible. Meanwhile, the instructors were walking around, observing.
One of them stopped directly in front of me, giving me a skeptical look.
“Slave, are you even trying right now?”
Oh, right. I should probably look like I was putting in some effort. So, I started doing squats in front of him, answering quickly, “I’m trying very hard.”
“What are you doing?” the instructor asked, louder this time. “I don’t see any energy moving in your body.”
Energy? What energy? I had no idea what he was talking about. I stopped squatting and decided to mimic some of the more enthusiastic slaves who were pretending to bench press the air.
The instructor stared at me, now visibly perplexed and a little helpless.
“Seriously, what are you doing now?”
“Trying to move my energy,” I replied with as much confidence as I could muster. Confidence was always important when you didn’t know what you were doing.
It didn’t seem to help.
The instructor sighed, though he seemed a bit nicer than the others, and began explaining. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s not working, so stop. You need to feel the energy in your body. The magic circle amplifies it.”
Now that he mentioned it, I felt something warm rising up from my feet. Was that the energy they had been talking about? Oh no, I was so bad at this kind of thing. Another school arc was definitely not something I was looking forward to. If they had tests of any kind, I was utterly doomed.
Okay, so I could feel something warm climbing up my legs, but... how was I supposed to move it? Maybe it was enough that it was already moving up on its own? Actually, it might help if I lay down and let the energy flow directly through me. That made sense, right?
So, I lay down inside the magic circle and closed my eyes. The warmth felt amazing—almost like being on vacation at one of Italy''s fantastic beaches. I started imagining the waves crashing against the shore, kids laughing and playing in the sand. Surprisingly, the instructor didn’t seem to mind that I was lying on the ground. Or at least, he didn’t comment on it.
Ah yes, this was the life. Maybe this school arc wouldn’t be so bad after all.
I sneakily opened one eye to check on the others. Some of them were still mimicking bench presses in the air with one hand, while others—those who were crying—were being punished by the instructors with nasty lightning bolts. Yikes.
The woman in front of me, who was clearly part of the “happy group,” was chatting with an instructor about magic. Luckily, my hearing was extremely sharp, so I started eavesdropping.
“Yes, that’s it,” the instructor said. “You need to guide the energy to your arm, speed it up at the end, and shape it to your will when it exits.”
The woman nodded and continued mimicking a bench press with her right arm. A moment later, a small flame burst from her fist before fizzling out after a second. The instructor seemed pleased and told her to try again, which she did.
This time, a weak lightning bolt flickered out of her hand, barely reaching ten centimeters before disappearing. She looked disappointed but kept trying. On her next attempt, the lightning bolt stretched to about two meters—and hit the man standing in front of her.
The guy, who already had tears running down his face, screamed in pain as the weak bolt struck him.
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize I was that strong,” the woman laughed, clearly amused by herself.
That sparked a wave of anger in me. I hated people like her. My whole body felt even warmer now—not just from the magic but from my frustration at her attitude. I decided to try something.
I focused on my hand, hoping for something to happen. My only thought was how satisfying it would be if she got hit by a bucket of cold water.
To my surprise, that’s exactly what happened.
Okay, I didn’t summon a literal bucket, but I did summon a stream of water—ice-cold water—that either materialized out of nowhere or was drained from the air. It shot straight at the woman’s neck, making her yelp in surprise and jump about a meter into the air.
It was hilarious.
I reined myself in, though. Making enemies with someone like her wasn’t a great idea. The smile on the guy’s face, however, was absolutely worth it.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that,” I said quickly, bowing slightly. Apologizing was important. I needed to appear pathetic and harmless—definitely not worth her time or energy. I even apologized a few more times to drive the point home. No way was I going to risk going up against someone so competitive in the future.
The woman didn’t seem too bothered, or at least she acted like she wasn’t. She turned back to her practice, working on fire and lightning magic again—both of which occasionally hit the poor guy in front of her. The instructors didn’t stop her, nor did they call her out.
I decided against splashing her with water again. It wouldn’t have the same effect a second time, and it would only make her mad. For now, I wanted to try something else.
More and more slaves were managing to conjure spells. Some were considerate, aiming their magic at the ground or into the air, but others weren’t. In fact, at least ten of them were complete jerks, deliberately targeting other slaves with their spells. Great. I’d definitely be steering clear of those people.
As for me, I was still trying to figure things out. My body was still warm, so I assumed I had enough energy to do something. I’d already summoned ice-cold water earlier, so maybe I could try something different now.
I pushed my hand forward and focused hard on what I wanted the warmth to do. I thought as desperately as I could. I wanted… ice-cold beer.
Sadly, only water appeared around my hand. At least it was still ice-cold, which felt nice, but… why wasn’t it beer? I wanted beer this time! Why was I still getting water?
“Very good! You seem to have a high affinity for water, being able to hold it for this long,” one of the instructors commented as he walked by.
Uh, okay. Should I tell him I was just trying to summon beer? Probably not.
Well, at least I had cold water. I started drinking it, and it felt amazing. This was enough effort for one day,
I decided.
I lay back down on the ground. I could try summoning beer tomorrow.