The Unnamed God. I'm really Not a God You Guys!

****(POV)

As much as I worried about the future there was nothing I could effectively do about it.

I became known as the beast-taming contestant.

All my fights from that point onward were to be with the hound I had tamed.

This would make me stronger, but in turn, these bastards would just increase the strength of my opponents too.

It would usually be a fight 2 v 1 in our favor.

As if that made a big difference.

They still didn't give me any kind of weapon.

I would try my best to do as much as possible without hurting my body too much.

After all, any serious injury could easily become a death sentence there.

They tended to always push the slaves to their very limit.

Any step back makes one a goner.

That simple.

For we are but data to them.

Not even worthy of existing.

Many times I hoped that some righteous sect would stumble upon this and save us.

Sadly the world is not such a bright place.

All of these so-called good guys nothing but hypocrites.

As long as there is no profit to be made, they won't move a single finger.

So what if innocents are suffering somewhere?

Their bad luck is all.

I knew no one would voluntarily save me.

The only thing I could do was bid my time.

Betting on a miracle to happen.

In such a manner we kept fighting.

The more we fought the more I learned about this power of mine.

How to order the hound about.

How to decipher the information it sent through our link.

Most of that progress was instinctive on both of our parts.

Both of us simply trying to survive.

We were companions of misfortune.

Quite similar to the relation I had with my brother.

Except that there was something more too.

A sharing of the senses and feelings.

I could always feel its hunger.

Its longing for freedom.

Its unwillingness to be a part of their games.

I believe that is why we somehow made a contract in the first place.

All emotions we would share perfectly.

We were inseparable.

During the day we would shed blood together.

At night we would rest and await the next challenge.

To get forces we took the habit to eat.

As much as possible and as regularly as possible.

They were not feeding us much.

But we fought on a regular basis.

Fought with living organisms.

That meant flesh to consume.

The more time went on the more I changed.

Not rapidly enough for me to notice.

But sharing the senses of a beast changed me.

At some point, I started to see the opponents as food.

At first only the creatures.

Then at some point the humans too.

Raw meat only waiting to be devoured.

Still, I would make sure to end their lives in the most painless ways.

I only realized that change through this brother of mine.

For me, all of it was a gradual process.

For him, I went from a young child to a hungry flesh-eater.

He made me realize it.

But I still didn't change my habits.

The way I saw it, it was all temporary.

Also, the best way for me to survive.

I had a goal.

I still had a reason to live.

To kill all of these fuckers.

With my own hands.

My dog would sink its claws and fangs into them too.

Then we would be free.

Then we would be happy.

We would wander the world and enjoy it.

We just had to be patient.

We just had to be lucky enough.

We just had to remain hopeful and at our peak.

We would capitalize in the slightest of gaps in their defenses.

We would…. *sigh*

Do nothing of that in the end.

That good end I had been planning and hoping for.

It would never come.

I underestimated the owners' cruelty.

I won too many fights.

Even while trying to act to the best of my abilities.

Actually, both of us were acting.

Winning all fights by a small margin.

Still, people saw the pattern.

People started losing interest.

The novelty of the beast-taming slave came to an end.

They wanted more.

Way more.

And the colosseum would provide.

They organized a big event.

Advertised it everywhere.

It would be the event of the year.

It would be extremely exciting.

I would be the main star.

Even in the depth of the prison I still heard about it.

My brother started to worry.

I and my dog simply accepted our fate.

Simply slept peacefully awaiting the end.

Worrying would have accomplished nothing.

Getting out of it impossible.

I started wondering if there would be such a thing as an afterlife.

I concluded that I hoped there wouldn't be.

If it is a creation of these cruel gods that let all of this happen…

I didn't want to be part of it.

I would just disappear and return to the void.

This would be for the best.

I still felt a bit disappointed.

All my efforts, all this time, would end up pointless.

The vain struggle of an ant that was condemned for death.

From the very moment I got here in fact.

Funny how my brother got impressed by my optimism.

Just the stupidity of a fool.

Still, I wouldn't regret all the effort I spent.

I would be proud of trying my best.

Even in a world that did all to thwart my efforts.

I wouldn't have forgiven it if there was an opportunity and I had failed to grasp it.

I was simply unlucky.

Unlucky to have my parents die.

Unlucky to meet the slave traders.

Unlucky to be sold here.

Unlucky to die a worthless piece of shit.

And die I would for sure.

This event would pit me and my dog against a rank 3 creature.

There is a reason ranks exist.

It is to warn us about when to fight and run.

I was doomed for sure.