Game of Endurance (Ch 7 – Part 1)

After some time had passed, Orb opened his eyes but instantly closed them as he felt a big, warm palm holding his right hand. Someone was giving him a slight and subtle energy current as if he was doing it stealthily and without wanting to draw attention.

Orb kept his eyes closed, hoping that this rest would be prolonged and that this current, which gave him a little energy and relieved him of some fatigue, would continue.

Orb was now breathing comfortably and without trouble as his lungs were filled with that aromatic scent of Vermon.

So, it’s you, Vermon.

Orb’s thumping heartbeat had calmed down and made him believe that this scent had healing properties.

Yet, he heard disapproving voices break into that peaceful moment.

“Are you going to ignore us, Vermon, son of Uthus?”

“Look! The fourth game is over, and you are caring for your sleeping slave!”

“Is he thinking of quitting?”

Among the loud voices, Tarsus’s voice stood out. “You know I left my seat and stood in this filthy place to suggest a group game as the carnival finale,” he complained.

Then, Vermon’s voice spoke in a low, disapproving voice. “Ah, my lords, keep your voices down. Someone needs to get some rest.”

“Do you care about your slave more than your reputation?”

Tarsus’s question was also disapproving when he stood behind Vermon, who remained on one knee in front of Orb.

“I care about both, but I hate to impose a game that we did not agree on from the beginning and my slave was not prepared for,” Vermon explained.

Vermon looked down at Orb’s body and, in a low voice, added, “He’s so tired,” the commotion grew intense, but he went on, “He’s had enough for the day.”

“So, you finished disciplining him? Is that it?”

“Nonsense!”

“Must we remind you that participating in the games is also a form of discipline?”

“We gave him enough time to rest.”

“He must be in the gam—”

“It is I who decide, not you!” Vermon hissed.

“Don’t make me tell everyone that you’re cheating now!” Tarsus bent and whispered in Vermon’s ear. “Do you think I didn’t notice you lending your Uthusian energy to a mere slave? What you are doing is a scandal! A morally and legally wrong act that will cost you your reputation and position.”

“Damn you!” Vermon glared at him, his thick eyelashes quivering with anger. Before he left Orb’s hand cautiously, he stood up. “Fine! Explain your damned game, and let’s get it over with.”

Despite Vermon’s resistance to the proposal due to Orb’s condition, he found that many nobles blamed him for his leniency with his slave and denounced him for ignoring the suggested game of the emperor’s philosopher.

Therefore, he reluctantly submitted to their proposal and refused to return to his place in the arena, preferring to stand aside and watch Tarsus as he stood in the center of the arena to introduce the carnival finale to everyone.

* * *

Tarsus named the game The Endurance Game. The idea was to whip each slave, one at a time, with forty lashes, and whoever endures it to the end without screaming or losing consciousness is the winner.

Overwhelmed and rendered speechless by the proposal, Orb stood up with difficulty. His gaze was wild as he scanned the faces of the attendants outside the shed and the few slaves nearby.

His frantic search was for Vermon.

A few seconds later, Vermon’s sudden appearance startled Orb. With wide, curious eyes, Vermon guessed that Orb was secretly begging him to notice and save him from further torment.

“Are you looking for me?”

“...”

Orb grappled with conflicting desires: to flee this inferno and to maintain a facade of courage. This internal struggle weighed heavily upon him, he who had been trapped in a state of weakness by merciless fiends in the depths of Hell.

Yet, he remained silent initially.

“What do you want?” Vermon asked him again.

This is not cowardice but a wise decision, right? Orb convinced himself. I am not scared; I am just not ready for another evil round. I have reached my limit for today.

So he slowly and cautiously touched Vermon’s sleeve, about to request a withdrawal.

“I want to— with…” his voice was faint.

Oddly enough, Vermon understood and was about to say something, but Tarsus’s voice interrupted, prompting him to step back from Orb quickly.

“If you are thinking about withdrawal, forget it. Your master has agreed to your participation, so there is no going back now,” Tarsus protested.

Vermon furrowed his brow. “Are you stalking me, Tarsus?” he turned to face Tarsus and added, “What if he wants to withdraw? What’s it to you?” he sneered.

The philosopher stared at Orb, who stood opposite Vermon while his damaged eyes were fixed on his master’s features with absorbed attention.

“Is your slave blind?”

“Partially.”

“Oh, that’s quite interesting! Why didn’t I notice that before?” looking at Orb. “Alas, you can’t withdraw. It’s a disgrace to quit the games after the master’s consent, and your master’s history is glorious; he is one of the great knights of the empire, and I don’t think he would allow you to behave like a coward and let him down because of such a silly game!”

“Who said I am withdrawing?” Orb challenged with a faint voice. He clenched his fists with silent anger.

Seeing his obstinate attitude, Tarsus smiled in excitement while Vermon felt irritated and frowned at both. Fine! You asked for it, stupid slave!

Hence, Vermon turned away, determined not to overthink things involving his slave.

Despite the peer pressure that affected Vermon’s decision and his dislike of his slave’s participation in that game, Vermon was confident that Orb would win. His endurance was impressive, and many nobles came specially to see him.

He has told them much about his blind slave’s constant defiance and resistance since his arrival. Thus, they came hoping they would be entertained by watching him taste the humiliating torment he deserved for his rebellion and disobedience to his master.

However, Vermon quickly returned and stood before Orb, who was startled by his act. Then, he spoke to the closest attendant.

“Hand me some water. My slave is thirsty,” he commanded.

* * *

When the attendant went to fetch the water, Orb was startled again by Vermon’s fingers quickly invading his mouth and tucking a small pearl that Vermon had formed from his Uthusian energy beneath his tongue.

“Keep it under your tongue. It will absorb your pain,” he whispered.

However, Orb spat it out in wild obstinacy and furrowed his eyebrows in apparent anger at Vermon’s many sins against him: his earlier abuse, sneaky ways to help him, and his underestimating him.

Vermon, in return, gaped in astonishment at Orb’s behavior. When the attendant brought a jug of water, Vermon, in a fit of sudden wrath, forcefully shoved it away with his hand, causing the jar to drop to the ground and shatter into pieces.

His eyebrows were still furrowed in disapproval of Orb’s unruly behavior.

“Is it not his turn yet?” He yelled at the attendant while glaring at Orb.

“Yes, it is, my lord,” the attendant shrieked in panic and confusion, unable to comprehend what had happened.

Orb was led away after all the slaves before him had failed and fell unconscious; none of them could bear the first twenty lashes.

Orb’s heart was pounding with great turmoil. Anxiety, disappointment, and anger were building up inside. He strongly believed that Vermon had a sadistic tendency, which made him take pleasure in torturing and seeing him in pain.

He would be filled with joy and gaze with rapture if he heard Orb’s screams and read signs of suffering on his face, and for that very reason, Orb believed that Vermon did not make enough effort to stop the game or prevent him from joining in.

Therefore, Orb was at a loss for what to do; should he endure the torment to the end and win, he would have satisfied his tormentor, and if he should deliberately lose and cry out in pain, he would have satisfied him still. Either way, the reputation of his tormentor would not be affected.

Orb could not think it through as one of the attendants threw him suddenly on his knees, ripped off his shirt, and cast it aside despite Vermon’s objections. However, Tarsus stepped in again and said it was the game’s rules.

* * *

Extra - 2 pages Manga