“Looks like it’s almost time. Come on, Raphtalia and Filo—cover your faces at the very least. Don’t forget to use our aliases.”

Filo put on a domino mask and tied a bandana around her head. Raphtalia was wearing a kabuto helmet to cover her face and ears so that people couldn’t tell what race she was. She had hidden her tail, too, of course. I was using an iron mask to cover my face, too.

A gong sound echoed throughout the air, and we headed out of the waiting room and toward the arena. Cheers filled the air. The venue was packed—there were far more spectators now than when I’d come to observe before. To think that there would be this many people at an underground coliseum . . . Oh, and nearly everyone in the audience was wearing masks, like maybe they were nobility that had come here in secret. It was a pretty unsettling sight, really. I bet all kinds of countries would have been in trouble if you killed off all these creeps.

As I was standing there thinking about such things, three muscle-bound mercenaries that looked like they knew how to fight came strolling out of the entrance on the opposite side.

“And now, a faceoff between Rock Valley’s Party and the Topak Family! Are you rrreeeaaddyyy?!”

The announcer was practically screaming as he stirred up the audience.

“Ha! This guy brought along a girl and some kid. Who let this bunch out of the show tent?”

“Hold up, the audience will love it if we do something brutal to that girl and kid right in front of this guy, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Alright, let’s start by beating this guy to a pulp and then that’s what we’ll do.”

What a vulgar bunch. Didn’t they know it was always the small fries that licked their chops like that before a fight? Actually . . . I wasn’t sure who was worse—these guys or the bandits we always ran into while peddling.

“You good?”

“Yup!”

It was probably best to assume we wouldn’t be receiving any support from the spectators. Then again, it was only our first match and wouldn’t be drawing much attention, so there was no need to worry about that . . . right?

The spectators were cheering a bit, but I could tell from their eyes that they were just hoping to see the kind of tragedy these creeps had mentioned. On the contrary, if the unquestionably weak-looking team with the girl and a child ended up winning, that might build some excitement, too. If we gained a certain amount of popularity, then we might be able to get some support, too.

“Let the battle . . . BEEEEGGIIIINNNN!!”