"Catch it!" the one gladiator who stayed calm shouted. The gladiator closest to the demonic beast grabbed the chain desperately, but he got dragged across the ground. The gladiators rushed out of the cave before the demonic beast went wild. The only person that remained was the bald man sitting on the floor, with a wet spot on his pants.

"D-Damn it...”

He tried to force himself to stand up, but he collapsed several times on the muddy floor as his legs had no strength. Eventually, the bald man crawled out of the cave. Then his gaze turned toward Juan, who had taken a few steps away from where he had been previously. But Juan didn't go toward the crazy woman.

Juan was walking very slowly into the cave. By his feet, there was a broken and chipped pickaxe abandoned by a slave. Juan picked up the pickaxe. It felt strange as Juan's thin, twig-like arms lifted it and struck the wall. The bald man felt like the whole situation was a bit ridiculous. He had just been about to have a good time when Juan had suddenly stood up, and the demonic beast had gone wild. Moreover, the first thing Juan had done after standing up was grab a pickaxe.

Above all, the most ridiculous thing was that he was unsure whether he had peed himself when the demonic beast went loose or when he made eye contact with Juan.

***

Clang–

The sound of the pickaxe hitting the wall was very satisfying. It caused a fist-sized stone to fall out, followed by mud pouring down.. Juan grabbed the pickaxe again and leaned back. While it seemed hard for Juan to even lift the broken pickaxe, he was using it quite skillfully. It had been a long time since he had done pure manual labor.

During his time as emperor, just a few magical incantations could create wonders. Even without magic, he had thousands of men who would do things for him. But now, all he had was a pickaxe.

Clang.

When the pickaxe hit the stone stuck in the soil, his arms went numb. But this also meant that he was capable of swinging with that much power. Juan’s body was unexpectedly good at pure physical labor. Usually, the underground cave expansion would have been harsh labor for a nine-year-old. Pickaxes were heavy even for adults to lift, not to mention they weren’t provided proper meals. Muscles became stronger as they were torn and restored, but it was hard for them to even recover normally in an overworked environment like that, let alone increase in strength.

But Juan's body was made of mana, and it was building and maintaining his body. Juan's weak body meant that the little mana he had was enough to help him recover. Mana frantically healed the muscles that Juan overworked, and his body quickly absorbed the mana in the surroundings.

‘In the process, my physical abilities have improved considerably.’

Such rapid progress wouldn’t have been possible if Juan didn’t have a fragile body or if he had a lot of mana. Although the people around him did not realize it yet, Juan had become much healthier compared to when he first came to this place.

Along with his body becoming healthier, his mind had become healthier as well. He reconsidered his initial idea of dying just like that.

'My body will constantly be repaired until I run out of mana, I don't know how long it would take if I just waited to die.’

There was a strangely high concentration of mana around here. No, it seemed like that was the case for most underground areas of the colosseum. In some situations, mana naturally aggregated, but this was different. The mana wasn’t clean, it smelled like blood and had a maddening aura. It was not surprising since this place had once been used as Talter’s temple. However, the mana concentration was hardly any different compared to the past.

‘It could be a good thing, though.’ Juan thought that and then stopped himself.

It could be a good thing? It was obviously an environment that went against what he wanted. The thought of dying remained unchanged in his mind. But he was now moving, eating, and working, and that was not befitting of a man resolved to die. He tried to erase his complicated thoughts and just moved without thinking.

‘The emperor is dead. The emperor is dead. The emperor is dead.’ Juan constantly reminded himself. The emperor was dead and he was just a nine-year-old slave now. It would be difficult for a child to live long in this kind of environment anyway. One would usually be eaten by a demonic beast, beaten to death, or taken to the colosseum. In any case, he would willingly open his arms to any sword trying to cut him down.

***

Ten days had passed before Juan knew it. His arms and legs were still thin, but some muscles had begun to build up. From looking like he was dying, he now looked like he was barely alive. The slaves who used to ignore him were taken aback. A nine year old child unexpectedly became a member of the labor force. He was even better than some clueless or lazy people. When they had first seen Juan, they thought the supervisor had bought some kind of corpse, but now his reputation had changed considerably.

The same was true of the supervisor who had decided to buy Juan. He now found Juan to be interesting. But the biggest reaction came from the crazy woman. She especially liked the way Juan changed with each passing day. She was fascinated as she pinched all over his body that had put on weight, and when they slept, she wouldn't let him out of her embrace.

Juan, who was unfamiliar with the concept of 'being cared for', felt slightly repulsed, but somehow didn't hate it. Juan had no memory of his mother. From the moment he could remember things, he was born with enormous power, had grand magicians as his teachers, and killed gods before he was ten.

He had been revered as an emperor his whole life. Never once did he remember being a baby or whining as one. He was always in a position where he was leading, teaching, and protecting others. The crazy woman was the one who melted Juan’s heart, which had long since frozen solid. While he was still uncomfortable with hugs, he was finally alright to hold hands.

One day while in bed, Juan had asked the crazy woman for her name, but he was unable to have a conversation with her. Juan laughed and accepted her hug softly.

"What's your name?" Juan asked.

"Yes, my child," the woman answered softly.

"Name. Your name," Juan repeated, but all he got was, "I won't let you go again. My child, you can't walk around alone...”

He heard her heart beating. Her heartbeat sounded like she was saying it was okay for him to wish to live. His shoulders were no longer burdened. He no longer needed to protect humanity or lead it to a better future. He was just “Juan”.

Juan felt really strange about that fact. He had always lived on the edge, risking his life for the safety of mankind, their happiness and their future. That was the only life he knew. But now, he no longer felt any of those compulsions. At first, he had thought it was because the slaves in front of him were just humanoid race slaves. But he didn't feel anything even when he saw actual human slaves being brought in from outside the empire. He even wondered if there really was a time when he had been the emperor.

Everything felt like a short dream, and he wondered if his own past had been a dream too. Of course, that was not true. The pain in his chest, which still felt numb, made him feel like he still had the black blade embedded in him. But in the woman's arms, Juan slowly forgot the touch of the black blade. The blade grew dull and then faded away.

***

"Hey, kid!"

Juan turned his head to the voice calling for him while at work. It was the goat-horned man, who often bothered him. It had been a mistake to have even talked to him before. Among the mountain goat beastmen, he was quite good at wall climbing, so he was working in another area that was a little more dangerous.

"You look a lot better than before, when you played dead.”

"…Get lost, Arle."

“Arle? That’s an archaic word you’re using there. These days, everyone just calls us ‘beastmen.’ Well, we prefer being called ‘Arle’ though.”

Juan found his words strangely suspicious. When he was emperor, “beastman” was a word used only by extreme human supremacists. Juan, who had lived during the days when humans were the minority, was more familiar with the word “Arle.”

"I'm just saying that because you look much better now. You’re much more active and seem to be eating properly, but... how did you change so much, so suddenly?"

Now that Juan was working, the goat-horned man would ask him to get the meals. Juan looked like he was sick of doing that. One of the downsides of being reborn was that people wouldn’t obediently shut up when he told them to. Juan put down the pickaxe.

When the goat-horned man showed up, it meant that it was time to eat. Other slaves had already put down their equipment. No one spoke or joked briskly like the goat-horned man. It was normal for slaves not to ask each other's names or mention their own names. They always got involved in accidents or were taken away to the colosseum. This was a place where countless people came and went. There was no point in getting to know each other.

The crazy woman brought back the meals. Juan didn’t know where or what she was doing, but she seemed to be able to do ordinary things without an issue. It was only when she saw Juan in danger that her mind would become particularly unstable. When Juan picked up the bowl, the crazy woman slapped him on the hand.

"My child, you should pray first!"

Juan ignored her and brought the bowl to his mouth. The lukewarm porridge had a strong smell, making him wonder what it was made of.

'Actually, it's pretty obvious...’

It probably contained the body parts of ordinary beasts or demonic beasts that died in the colosseum. The expensive parts were sold, while the useless intestines or lean meat were used for their meals. Most of the toxins in the meat disappeared when they were boiled over a strong flame until the bottom of the pot got charred. There were definitely people who would still get sick from it, but the good part was that the contents were rich in mana. The average person couldn’t accept mana, so most of it would be eliminated from the body, but Juan was absorbing everything he ate.

Juan smiled bitterly. Moving, breathing, sleeping, eating, drinking and the sound of prayer seemed to have given Juan the strength to live on and to become stronger. Juan looked around as he chewed on the unidentified meat inside the porridge. Many were just eating like Juan, but there were quite a few people who prayed like the crazy woman. Juan was puzzled at the situation. Most of the gods were dead. He was certain of it, as he had killed them with his own hands. The surviving gods fled to places from which they could not return. Thus, it seemed that they weren’t praying to the gods.

"I have no doubt that one day His Majesty will stand up and help us through this hardship...”

The object of their prayer was none other than Emperor Juan.

Juan felt strange. He was established as the guardian of mankind. But most of these slaves were demi-humans and humans that were captured from outside the empire. Juan didn’t know whether to sneer at them for praying to the emperor, or whether to pity them for losing their original object of worship. Not to mention, Juan saw gladiators, soldiers, and even supervisors praying to the emperor. Juan had seen people praising him in the past, but he hadn’t known it would spread so widely that even the lower classes would do it. Even the goat-horned man was holding his hands together.