“My name is Burbelga! Gladiator from the Akuneion Empire!”
Burbelga fought his way through the city, killing everyone he encountered. He had no idea how he’d gotten so strong, but he was overjoyed. What really made him happy was that it didn’t hurt even when someone punched him. He could finally fight without fearing pain. He had no idea what a “Valkaan” was, but everyone called him one. I guess that’s what they call strong people? But how can you tell whether someone’s strong before you even fight them? As he had no concept of what a Valkaan looked like, Burbelga decided to fight everyone he saw to determine whether they were weak or strong.
If they die when I punch them, then they’ve gotta be weak. It’s their fault for being weak, so it’s their fault they died. After crushing countless squads of soldiers, Burbelga found himself back at the arena. But the arena had been destroyed, and no matches were being held. He found a few of those so-called Valkaan there, but dispatched them without issue.
I’ve finally become strong enough to fight in this arena; it’s a shame it’s ruined now. Oh well. Burbelga could take whatever he wanted by force, and if someone complained, he could just kill them. His life had finally turned around.
But as time passed, people started to disappear from the city. Burbelga had killed all his enemies, but even those who weren’t his foes began to vanish.
I even said I wouldn’t kill them if they didn’t oppose me. I can’t believe they’re all leaving me behind. With all the people gone, Burbelga couldn’t get free clothes and food. And since he’d been raised as a slave gladiator, all he knew was to fight. He couldn’t sew, fish, or farm. In less than a year, Burbelga had devolved to wearing just a ragged loincloth and grilling the beasts he hunted over a coarse campfire for food. He knew of no other way to survive.
Well, I guess this is fine. His sturdy Valkaan body could survive off such basic sustenance, so he found it an acceptable enough life. He spent his days wandering the land searching for powerful foes, attacking anyone he encountered like a rabid dog. But eventually, those days also came to an end.
“Valkaan, I cannot allow you to pass. If you agree to turn back, I will give you a few days’ worth of food and water,” an old man said calmly, standing in front of a sturdy fortress.
Is he afraid of fighting? That means he’s gotta be weak, right?! Burbelga had no compunction about killing the weak now.
He charged at the old man, roaring, “If you’re weak, then shut up and die!”
Burbelga’s punches were strong enough to shatter boulders, and he was certain just one hit would be enough to crush this old man’s head to a pulp. But that wasn’t what happened.
“Whuh?!” His fist found only empty air.
“Your footwork is sloppy,” the old man said flatly, driving a fist into Burbelga’s stomach.
“Urgh!” For the first time in centuries, Burbelga felt pain.
As he doubled over, the man sliced at Burbelga’s neck with his hand. “If I were being serious, that would have chopped your head off.”
“N-No!” Eyes watering in pain, Burbelga hurriedly scurried backwards.
I haven’t lost yet. And since I haven’t lost, I’m not weak! I’ve still got my head on my shoulders! Burbelga rubbed the back of his neck to make sure it was still attached, which it thankfully was. His opponent’s stance spoke to the years he must have spent training.
I’m strong...but so is this guy. Burbelga assumed the boxing stance his instructor had taught him; it’d seemingly been a lifetime since he last took this pose.
“Are you a Valkaan?” he asked the old man.
“I have been called that before.” The old warrior drew a curved sword and pointed it at Burbelga. “But if you intend to fight, I won’t hold back.”
He’s like the swordsmen I used to see in the arena. Burbelga wasn’t sure if this man was a gladiator, but he was clearly more accustomed to wielding a sword than fighting bare-handed. He seemed more like someone who valued swordsmanship for its own sake than a typical warrior. I don’t like his attitude. Burbelga still remembered how fistfighters had been seen as lesser compared to swordsmen, which stoked his simmering anger.
“I won’t lose to you!” Burbelga lunged forward and threw his best punch. Let’s see you try to block this with that iron stick of yours! But a second later, searing pain shot through his hand.
“Argaaah!” The man’s sword sliced through his fist, cutting all the way up to his elbow. “Waaah!”
Resisting the urge to collapse, Burbelga jumped back.
“H-How can you cut me with that lump of iron?! I-I’m supposed to be strong!”
The man quietly replied, “You are strong. But not as strong as me.”
With his dominant hand cut down the middle, Burbelga couldn’t really protest. The man raised his bloodstained blade and stepped forward.
“Nngh!” Burbelga stumbled backwards, staying well out of the sword’s range. His wound was closing up already, but he could feel his strength draining away as his body healed. It seemed not even a Valkaan could regenerate forever. He would definitely die if he got cut like that a few more times.
He’s...scary! For the first time since becoming a Valkaan, Burbelga felt fear. He knew now there were Valkaan stronger than him.
The old man gave him a pitying look and pointed to the wilderness. “Go. But be warned: if we meet again, I will kill you. Even Buddha’s mercy has its limits.”
Buddha? What’s that? Confused by a word he’d never heard before, Burbelga cradled his bleeding arm and ran off.
“Uwaaah!”
From that day on, Burbelga stopped challenging other Valkaan.
There are people out there stronger than me... People like that guy who I definitely can’t beat. Burbelga fled to the south, but the south was a wasteland. There was very little food and water for him to find. The only way he could survive was by stealing from others. However, few people lived in such a desolate place. Most survivors of Burbelga’s kingdom had fled to the lush mountains of the north. There were no villages left in this barren land.
I’m so hungry... As he wandered aimlessly across the wastes, Burbelga suddenly smelled grilled meat.
Someone’s cooking meat. I could steal it, but what if they’re a Valkaan? He slowly approached the source of the smell and found several men sitting around a campfire. The group’s leader appeared to be a well-built man wearing fancy clothes. The others were dressed poorly, and unarmed.
The big guy looks like a Valkaan. The rest must be slaves. Burbelga wasn’t worried about the slaves, but the Valkaan might be stronger than him. At the same time, he was starving. I’d rather die fighting than die of an empty stomach! Gathering what remained of his pride, Burbelga rushed forward.
“Hraaah!” He swung at the man who looked like a Valkaan, landing a clean hit before he could even turn around.
“Wha?! You little—”
He’s still alive?! Oh no! Seeing the anger on his opponent’s face, Burbelga desperately threw out punch after punch.
“Take thiiis!” He beat the man until he collapsed, then mounted him and continued his assault. “Die! Die! Die diiie!”
Burbelga didn’t know how long he’d been punching, but when he came to his senses, he noticed the man’s head had been completely pulverized. For a while now, he’d been punching the bloody ground.
“H-hehehe... I did it! I won! Burbelga takes the round!” He raised his arms into the air like a victorious gladiator. He then looked around and saw that the men who’d been with the Valkaan were gone. They’d probably fled the moment they saw their master die. Burbelga felt relieved and more than a little ashamed of himself.
That was a pretty despicable thing to do. I’m sure the instructor would’ve gotten angry if he saw me savage a defeated opponent like that. Burbelga thought back to the Valkaan who’d bested him. He’d been strong, calm, and fought fairly. I should start fighting fairly like him, and then I’d also be someone to look up to. Burbelga folded his arms and struck an imposing stance.
“W-Wahaha! What kind of weakling doesn’t even realize he’s being ambushed?! You’re not even worthy of being my opponent!”
Belittling his defeated foe somehow made Burbelga feel stronger. There was no one around to see him anyway.
“O-Okay, then.” Burbelga sat down next to the corpse of the Valkaan and grabbed the meat they were grilling. He didn’t care that he was getting blood all over the food as he chowed down.
“Man, that’s good...”
As he satiated his hunger, a revelation came to him.
I just have to become the scariest guy around. That way I won’t have anything to be afraid of. Everyone’ll tremble in fear at my strength, and I won’t have to worry about anything!
And so Burbelga’s reign of terror began.