Extra Chapter: The Rebels of History

Aurelian Dynasty Calendar, Year 549, Crest Duchy, Dragon Colosseum.

In the center of the massive colosseum lay a dense jungle. This was the arena the Duke had ordered the druids to set up overnight, all for a wager placed for today.

“Counterattack! Tear that lizard apart!”

“Can Crazy Wolf still hold on? Why is he only dodging today?”

“His opponent this time is no ordinary fighter. He’s from the south, supposedly an elder of the tribe that repelled an attack by the Second Army! Didn't you see? That old guy is even wearing Magic Crystal Battle Armor today! I think Crazy Wolf is in trouble.”

“No way! I bet everything on Crazy Wolf winning!”

The colosseum was packed. Shouts, curses, and prayers in various accents mingled together.

Inside the arena, separated by multiple protective magic arrays, a robust werewolf darted through the jungle.

He was incredibly fast; his grayish-white fur was just a flash among the branches and leaves. Ordinary spectators could only occasionally catch a glimpse of a blurry afterimage.

He was the star of the Dragon Colosseum, Duke Crest's most formidable gladiator—Crazy Wolf. Whenever his figure sped past the stands below, it ignited a frenzy of cheers.

Today, however, his opponent was different from the past.

It was an elderly lizardman.

His grayish-green scales were already dull and lackluster, his back was slightly hunched, and wrinkles accumulated at the corners of his eyes from years of age. However, the mana within his body was so abundant it made Crazy Wolf wary.

More importantly, he wore a suit of exquisite Magic Crystal Battle Armor.

It was clearly a custom-made masterpiece. The silver metal frame closely fit his gaunt frame, and the thumb-sized mana crystals embedded at key joints flickered with light.

Those magic crystals forcibly elevated his spellcasting ability to its absolute limit. The price was that every spell he cast overdrew his already meager life force.

Since the battle began, the continuous magical explosions hadn't stopped.

Crazy Wolf could only dodge; he simply couldn't get close.

This was the most dangerous enemy Crazy Wolf had ever encountered, yet his master still seemed unsatisfied.

In the stands, a wealthy slaver suddenly stood up, tore off his wide-brimmed hat, and slammed it fiercely at his feet.

“Old man! What are you doing? You've been fighting for so long and still haven't hurt that wolf! Do you plan on winning at all? Think of your daughter! If you lose, she'll meet her end in the mines!”

The old lizardman's movements stiffened slightly. In the next instant, even more violently turbulent mana erupted from his gaunt body.

Spells poured down like a torrential rain. Swaths of the forest were leveled in the explosions, and Crazy Wolf finally sustained some injuries.

Unfortunately, just as the slaver revealed a smile, the situation changed again.

The lizardman's aged body had already been forcibly pushed to its limit by the Magic Crystal Battle Armor; the sudden outburst completely shattered that fragile balance.

The brief upper hand was followed by a body convulsing in pain due to chaotic mana.

At that very moment, a wolf's claws appeared before him.

The claws struck the lizardman's chest. The aged body flew backward, crashing into a charred stump, and he never rose again.

“Crazy Wolf! Crazy Wolf! Crazy Wolf!”

The entire arena boiled over. Countless hands reached for the sky, countless mouths shouting the same name. The grayish-white werewolf stood amidst the ruins, howling at the sky, welcoming another victory that belonged to him.

However, in the stands, the wealthy slaver was not cheering.

He stared at the old lizardman lying by the stump, his plump face contorted with anger. The wager he had lost was enough to make his heart ache for half a year.

“Useless trash! Damn it!”

He then looked up, only to meet the gaze casting down from the highest point, the Dragon Head Stand—Duke Valentine Crest.

The Duke's somewhat smug voice drifted down from above: “My friend, it's just a few manors. Surely you aren't a sore loser?”

Accompanying the Duke's words, the personal guard beside him erupted with a terrifying, oppressive aura.

The wealthy slaver took a half step back, repeatedly expressing that he wouldn't dare.

Only when the pressure receded did he dare to steal a glance upward.

North of the Dragon Spine Mountains, there wasn't a single person who didn't know the title of that personal guard: one of the top ten experts of the Aurelian Dynasty, Dauphin the Dragon Breaker.

...

When the oak door of the tavern was pushed open, Crazy Wolf lowered his head to pass through the frame, the fur on his shoulder blades brushing against the lintel.

Gladiators were different from ordinary slaves; they enjoyed a certain degree of freedom within the city.

A star gladiator like Crazy Wolf even enjoyed some privileges that ordinary citizens envied.

Of course, all of this was so they could fight even more fiercely in the arena.

“To our ever-victorious champion!”

In a corner, two horned demons, who were also gladiator slaves, raised their mugs and smiled at him in greeting.

Crazy Wolf nodded back at them. Just as he was about to walk over, a hand touched his arm.

“Mr. Champion...” A human noblewoman's voice was cloyingly sweet, her full figure nearly pressing against his furry side. “Do you have time for a drink with me tonight?”

Crazy Wolf looked down at her.

That powdered face, those eyes burning with some sort of desire, and that bare skin which, to him, lacked any aesthetic appeal.

Hairless. Unappealing.

But he politely found an excuse anyway: “I sustained some injuries in today's battle. Another day.”

The noblewoman's smile stiffened for a moment. She stomped her foot and walked away, swaying her hips, leaving behind a cutting remark as she left: “He’s just a slave anyway.”

Crazy Wolf didn't even bat an eyelid.

At that moment, the tavern owner behind the bar set down the glass he was holding and gestured toward a booth in the corner with his chin: “Crazy Wolf, someone wants to talk to you.”

“Not interested today.”

“I think...” The owner paused, his fingers resting on the rim of a glass, and looked up at him. “It would be best if you met with him.”

There was no hint of a joke in those eyes.

Crazy Wolf froze for a moment, then lowered his head and ducked through the low wooden door.

The booth was dark, but the werewolf wasn't affected by the lack of light.

However, as soon as he entered, Crazy Wolf unconsciously wrinkled his nose. He caught the scent of old blood. He knew only one kind of creature favored that smell.

“Vampire.”

The middle-aged vampire leaned back in his chair, seemingly oblivious to the hostility in the werewolf's tone. He raised a hand, gesturing for him to sit, his movements as leisurely as if he were entertaining a guest in his own home.

“Crazy Wolf, I'm here to recruit you.”

“Recruit?” Crazy Wolf didn't sit down, merely staring down at him commandingly. “Who do you think you are, trying to poach me? Besides, you should be discussing this with my Duke, not me.”

“Of course I am discussing it with you.” The vampire lifted his glass and took a small sip. “What? Have you played the dog for so long that you’ve forgotten how to make your own decisions?”

Crazy Wolf's pupils contracted into dangerous slits.

He leaned down, planting both claws on the table, and moved his face close to the vampire's: “Are you looking for trouble?”

“Heh, a dog can't hurt me.”

The vampire didn't even blink. “If you don't want to be a dog for the rest of your life,” he set down his glass, stood up, and paused as he brushed past Crazy Wolf, “when you see my Lord's figure in the arena tomorrow, make your choice.”

Crazy Wolf turned around and mocked, “Your Lord? Aren't you just someone else's dog too?”

The vampire stopped in his tracks.

“No, we are different.” His voice was very soft, yet it resonated with faith and unwavering resolve. “My Lord is worthy of me dedicating this eternal life to! And you? Are you willing to dedicate your life to that fat pig of a Duke?”

The curtain fell, separating him from that figure.

...

The next day, the colosseum was packed with spectators again. This carnival celebrating the Duke's birthday would last for an entire week.

The meticulously arranged jungle was gone. Overnight, all the trees had been leveled, replaced by a completely unremarkable, flat expanse of land.

An unobstructed view, perfect for letting the audience see clearly how every drop of blood was spilled.

Crazy Wolf stood in the center of the arena. Opposite him stood two familiar faces.

They were the horned demons who had raised their glasses to him in the tavern just last night. The smiles from the previous night were gone from their faces, replaced now only by beast-like glares.

It was a common occurrence in the colosseum: friends one night, mortal enemies the next.

Since a death match had been arranged, it was already a do-or-die situation for both sides.

The gladiators had long learned to accept this, learned to forget all camaraderie the moment they stepped into the arena.

Normally, Crazy Wolf would probably end the fight quickly to minimize their suffering, a small gesture of meager mercy toward the gladiators he had shared a drink with.

But today, Crazy Wolf subconsciously chose to drag out the fight. The words of that vampire from last night kept echoing in his head.

In the Dragon Head Stand, Duke Valentine leaned back in his velvet-lined chair, his brow furrowed.

“What is Crazy Wolf doing?” His voice carried clear impatience. “A warm-up match, and he’s dragging it out this long?”

At that moment, the Dragon Breaker beside him suddenly tilted his head, seemingly listening to something.

“What is it?” the Duke asked.

“Outside the colosseum, there are sounds of fighting...”

Suddenly, an attendant ran in hurriedly, holding a yellow-covered book with both hands: “Lord Duke! Bad news! A rebellion has broken out in the city!”

As he spoke, the attendant stepped forward, seemingly intending to hand the book to the Duke.

Dauphin, however, remained vigilant: “Wait!”

He reached out and grabbed the man's forearm—

The texture was wrong!

He instinctively gave a forceful yank, and the sleeve was actually torn right off!

Along with the sleeve came a large mass of jelly-like slime.

“What are you...?”

“I'm not a slime.”

The faceless visage turned toward him. Simultaneously, a pre-prepared Fire Snake spell erupted forth!

Scorching flames instantly engulfed the entire Dragon Head Stand. The magical items on the Duke saved his life, while Dauphin, facing the Fire Snake directly, only felt his eyebrows and the hair on his forehead curl from the heat.

But he didn't retreat. In an instant, he drew the giant axe from his back and cleaved through the oncoming flames!

At that moment, Dauphin's emotions were imperceptibly provoked.

“Fool!” he roared, raising his great axe high during the gap between spells. “A spellcaster actually dares to attempt a sneak attack at close quarters?”

Then he saw it.

The yellow book had somehow flipped open. The golden trim on its pages was gathering the brilliance of mana.

And in the middle of the page, several large words appeared:

[You are the fool]

The next moment, countless wind blades poured out from the pages!

They were as dense as a torrential downpour, leaving almost no room to dodge. The wind blades pierced through Dauphin's body and continued outward, carving deep fissures into the railing, the chairs, and even the entire wall behind him.

The Dragon Breaker fell to his knees, belatedly feeling a sense of confusion.

Why had he taken it for granted that this attacker had no other tricks up their sleeve? He was never the type to be careless and underestimate the enemy...

Unfortunately, he would never get the chance to figure it out.

A brand-new page with golden trim along its edges slowly grew from the spine of the yellow book.

[Hahahahaha! The soul of an expert, delicious!]

[Hmm... Lord Demon King, I have no interest in this fat pig.]

The portly Duke beside him had already been terrified out of his wits by this sudden turn of events.

He desperately scooted his obese body toward a corner, squeezing out pleas for mercy from his throat: “Who... who are you? Spare me! I am a Duke! The true ruler of the Dynasty! Whatever you want, I can give you! Wealth, territory, titles! Killing me will only result in an endless pursuit; it won't benefit you at all!”

“Without strength, lacking in wisdom, possessing only cruelty and greed. It is precisely because the Dynasty is controlled by things like you...” The Demon King's voice was full of contempt as he stepped closer. “I only need one thing from you.”

When that round head was tossed from the Dragon Head Stand, tracing an arc through the air before landing heavily on the sandy ground of the arena, the colosseum went silent for a moment.

Then, terrified screams erupted all around. The spectators scrambled toward the two narrow exits, trampling, shoving, cursing, and crying, all blurring together.

Crazy Wolf stared at the head that had rolled near his feet, then looked up at the stands around him.

The protective magical barriers that were supposed to be raised during gladiator matches had, at some unknown point, disappeared.

He remembered the vampire's words.

“Heh... haha... hahahahahaha—!”

An exhilarated wolf howl echoed from the center of the arena!

“Awoo—!”

In the distance, from the gladiator cells, overlapping wolf howls erupted in response.

This was followed by the clash of weapons, the sharp crack of breaking chains, and the dying screams of the guards.

And Crazy Wolf finally moved.

His movements were agile. With a few bounds, he leaped into the audience seating. The moment his four paws hit the ground, a muffled sound came from beneath his feet; it was the sound of some unlucky person's sternum being crushed.

He stood on the sloping steps, taking in the overwhelming scent of blood, listening to the screams of humans all around, every hair on his body trembling.

“Crazy... Crazy Wolf...”

A trembling woman's voice came from nearby.

The noblewoman from the previous night was slumped in a chair. She tried hard to squeeze out a seductive smile, but it only made her powdered face contort into something even uglier.

“I've always been a fan of yours... We even spent a few wonderful nights together, do you remember?”

Crazy Wolf looked down at her.

That hairless face, those tear-filled eyes, that desperate posture trying to please him.

He nodded.

“I remember. Among the hairless, ugly ones, you were the most repulsive.”

Sharp claws slashed out.

Tearing her to pieces. Blood splattered onto Crazy Wolf's face, warm and sweet-smelling.

And this was only the beginning of this bloody carnival.

Crazy Wolf looked up toward that figure still standing tall at the highest point of the stands.

That person simply stood quietly beside the Duke's corpse. The faceless visage seemed to be looking down at the entire colosseum, now plunged into frenzy and chaos.

Crazy Wolf suddenly felt that his nickname, "Crazy," should perhaps be yielded to that guy.

He had actually dared to kill a Duke in public; it was practically a declaration of war against the powerful Aurelian Dynasty!

The Second Army outside the city would soon fight their way in, and the First Army far away would also seek revenge for the Duke. How was he going to deal with that?

These questions only surfaced for a moment before being tossed to the back of his mind.

Who cares!

At this moment, Crazy Wolf was completely immersed in the slaughter, venting the humiliation of his past to his heart's content.

...

A bat landed on the Dragon Head Stand, folded its wings, and transformed into the middle-aged vampire.

“My Lord, everything went smoothly.” He knelt on one knee, his voice suppressing his excitement. “Important military facilities throughout the city have been destroyed, and the slaves and gladiators have been released. I presume the plans in the other surrounding cities are also proceeding smoothly. By the time the Second Army, which had already set out for the east, receives the news and returns, we will have long since led these gladiators into the Northern Territory. The Stone Fort base will gain another measure of strength.”

“You did well.”

“It is all thanks to your brilliant strategy, My Lord.” The vampire looked up, his eyes full of admiration. “I simply cannot imagine how you acquired so much vital intelligence.”

[What are you prying for?]

The vampire suddenly realized his misstep and quickly lowered his head again toward the Demon King: “Apologies, this subordinate meant no offense.”

[Hmph! Don't ask what you shouldn't ask. The only one who can share all of Master's secrets is me, his loyal Ah Huang!]

The Demon King ignored their bickering. He glanced at the colosseum, now descending into chaos, and Crazy Wolf in the distance, sensing that the overall situation here was settled.

“I'll leave the rest to you. I still need to gather new intelligence.” Saying that, the Demon King casually shoved the still-gloating yellow book into the vampire's arms.

[Master?]

[You can't take me with you this time? Just take me along once!]

However, a temporary teleportation array had already formed beneath the Demon King, and with a flash, he disappeared from the spot.

[Lord Demon King!]

The vampire glanced at the yellow book in his hands: “Heh, 'only you can share all of Master's secrets,' huh...”

[...]

...

In the boundless royal gardens, a magnificently dressed young girl huddled down, glancing around nervously for quite some time.

Only after confirming that her attendants were merely standing guard outside the garden did she jog quickly to a bush, somewhat nervously pushing aside a large piece of fallen tree bark.

It wasn't until she saw the pale blue slime underneath that she let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“You scared me to death, little guy.”

“Where did you sneak off to yesterday? You made me think the gardeners had found you!”

“It's very dangerous for you here. Don't run off randomly next time!”

“Oh right, I brought you some food.”

Saying this, the young girl pulled out the piece of cake she had been hiding in her dress and gently pushed it into the slime's body.

“I was going to give it to you yesterday, but you went missing. The weather has been so hot, I don't know if it went bad after a day... But I remember slimes are supposed to be scavengers, so it should be fine.”

“Speaking of which, little thing, do you even have a sense of taste?”

The young girl just kept talking to herself like this, directing her words to the slime, moving from the cake to her troubles over the past few days.

“Valentine brought up having his son marry me again at the Crystal Council. It's that chubby kid I told you about, the one who looks exactly like Valentine. Luckily, the other Dukes collectively opposed it, but I don't think he has given up yet.”

“I don't want to get married. If I get married, I might really never have the chance to express my own opinions again.”

“Dukes Havilland and Wood proposed sending troops to pressure the dwarves for more construct artisans today. They 'applied' to me only after they had already set out, as if I could even disagree.”

“Every time I think of the story my catgirl maid told me, I feel so sad.”

“Sigh... Beastmen, Dwarves, Lizardmen, Elves, Horned Demons, Humans... Why can't everyone live together? Why must there be endless fighting?”

“If I were the one in charge...”

“I come of age next year, and then I can officially ascend to the throne as Empress. Then everyone will listen to me. I will make the Dukes stop launching wars! Hmm... The same goes for slimes. As the only friend willing to listen to me talk about these things, I will protect you too!”

The young girl didn't expect the slime to answer, just rambling on about all sorts of things.

“Princess Seraphina?” An attendant's call came from the distance. The young girl suddenly realized she had been talking for too long, long enough that the cake inside the slime had been mostly dissolved.

She hastily moved the tree bark back and cautioned: “Little guy, don't run around anymore. It's very dangerous if the gardeners find you. When I become Empress, I'll take you out to play everywhere!”

“Princess Seraphina?”

“Coming, coming!”

“Your Highness, where did you hide? Duke Wood has been looking for you everywhere!”

“I accidentally fell asleep leaning against a tree! I'll go right now.”

The two figures disappeared into the distance.

...

The slime completely digested the last bit of cake and slowly stretched itself into a humanoid shape.

“The cake was a bit sour.”

(End of Chapter)