Sparta: Many childrens, Many Blessings, Starting from the Gladiator Chapter 35 35

The training reached the third day. Everyone was exhausted like dead dogs.

The instructor seed to have gone mad. From morning to night, he didn't let them stop.

Carrying stone locks, running laps, sparring, simulating formations… baking under the sun, rolling in the sand pit, sweat mixed with blood soaked every inch of leather armor.

But Lynx felt okay.

The newly added strength attribute was like adding fuel to a fire, making his stamina reserves thicker.

Plus, toxin resistance removed the worry about the poison in the sword hilt. He finally dared to loosen up a little.

Saxa obviously noticed this too.

During the afternoon spar, she stared at Lynx. Her amber eyes flashed with doubt: "You weren't this tough yesterday."

"I slept well."

"Bullshit."

Saxa sneered. "Your eyes are full of bloodshot. You definitely didn't sleep last night."

Caught.

Lynx really hadn't slept much last night.

His mind was full of plans — the matter of getting money, the escape route, the flying knives and rope darts of the Nodis twins "Shadow"… and Mira's worried eyes, Lucretia's anxious urging, Crixus's gloomy face.

Too many things weighed on him, making it hard to breathe.

"You too."

Lynx countered. "When you swung your blade with your right hand, it was a bit slower than yesterday. Is your shoulder injured?"

Saxa was stunned for a mont and subconsciously rubbed her right shoulder — there was indeed an old wound there, an arrow wound from her ti in the Thracian resistance army. It would hurt on rainy days.

"Observation is quite detailed."

She didn't deny it. "So? You want to pity ?"

"No."

Lynx shook his head. "I want to make a deal with you."

"Speak."

"You help with sothing, and I'll treat your injury."

Saxa narrowed her eyes: "You know how to treat injuries?"

"A little."

Lynx said — the system reward of "Advanced dical Knowledge" was not just for show.

Saxa stared at him for a few seconds and suddenly grinned: "Fine. What do you need help with?"

"Co to my cell tonight."

Lynx paused. "We'll talk in detail."

The words sounded ambiguous. Several gladiators who were eavesdropping nearby showed knowing expressions.

But Saxa's face didn't change. She nodded: "Good."

Training ended. The sky was already dark.

Lynx returned to his cell. He first carefully checked it — no extra items, no signs of tampering.

Although Batiatus was suspicious, he hadn't reached the point of openly searching his room.

He brought in a basin of water and wiped the scabs and fresh bruises on his body.

The water was cold, making his skin break out in goosebumps.

Just as he was wiping, the door was pushed open.

Saxa walked in and closed the door behind her.

She had changed into clean linen clothes. Her hair was wet, obviously just washed.

She was carrying a small leather bag in her hand. She threw it on the ground, making a light tallic clinking sound.

"The money you wanted."

Lynx raised an eyebrow: "Where did it co from?"

"Batiatus's hidden compartnt in the study."

Saxa sat down on the straw mat, moving casually as if she were at ho. "That fatty hid it quite well, but it couldn't fool . Back in the resistance army, I specialized in this — stealing docunts and money from Roman officers."

Lynx opened the leather bag.

Inside were dozens of denarii, plus a few small gold ornants — rings, earrings, they looked like won's items.

"Enough?"

"Enough."

Lynx put the leather bag away. "Thank you."

"No need to thank . It's just a deal."

Saxa waved her hand. "Now, treat my injury."

Lynx squatted down in front of her: "Take off your clothes."

Saxa raised an eyebrow: "So direct?"

"How do I treat you if you don't take them off?"

Saxa stared at him for a few seconds and suddenly smiled.

She didn't act coy either. She directly untied the strings of her upper garnt, pulled the linen shirt over her head, and threw it aside.

She wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Her wheat-colored skin glowed with a healthy luster under the dim light of the oil lamp.

Her muscle lines were smooth and distinct. Her shoulders were broad, her collarbones deep, her chest full but firm, covered with scars of all sizes — knife wounds, arrow wounds, and a ferocious knife scar running from her left chest diagonally to her right abdon. Although it had healed, it was still shocking.

Saxa bared her upper body without any concern, her eyes calm: "Seen enough?"

Lynx withdrew his gaze and looked at her right shoulder.

There was a sunken scar from an arrow wound. The surrounding muscles were sowhat atrophied, and the skin color was darker than the surrounding area.

"When did you get shot by the arrow?"

He reached out and pressed on the wound.

Saxa's body stiffened slightly, but she didn't dodge.

"Three years ago."

"Roman crossbow bolt with barbs. When it was pulled out, it tore off a piece of flesh. After that, I couldn't exert full strength."

Lynx's fingers pressed gently, feeling the state of the muscles and bones.

Advanced dical knowledge automatically surfaced in his mind — partial tear of the scapular muscle group, tendon adhesion, limited joint mobility. Not too serious, but it did affect power output.

"It can be treated, but it will hurt a bit."

"What's there to fear about pain."

Saxa sneered. "Go ahead and do it."

Lynx took out a small pottery bottle from his bosom — the ointnt Mira gave him, for reducing swelling and pain, promoting blood circulation and removing stasis.

He dug out a piece with his finger, applied it to Saxa's shoulder wound, and began rubbing it with force.

The technique was very professional.

Light at first, then heavier, following the muscle texture, slowly pushing apart the adhered fascia.

Saxa gritted her teeth. Fine beads of sweat gradually appeared on her forehead.

It had to be said, it really hurt a lot, like countless needles stabbing into the flesh at the sa ti.

But after the pain ca a long-lost feeling of relaxation.

"Where did you learn this from?"

She asked while panting.

"Local thods from my hotown."

Lynx didn't raise his head.

"Where is your hotown?"

"A very far place."

Saxa didn't ask further.

She closed her eyes and let Lynx's hands move on her shoulder.

The oil lamp fla flickered, casting the swaying shadows of the two on the wall.

The air was filled with the herbal scent of the ointnt, mixed with the sll of sweat and a woman's body scent.

Lynx could feel the warmth and elasticity of the skin under his hands, could feel the rise and fall of Saxa's breathing, could feel the trembling of her muscles as they switched between pain and relaxation.

This was a powerful woman.

Her body was powerful, and her will was even more powerful.

"Done."

A few minutes later, Lynx stopped his hands. "Do it once a day, for three consecutive days. It can recover seventy to eighty percent. For complete recovery, long-term conditioning is needed."

Saxa opened her eyes and moved her right shoulder.

It was indeed much looser.

Before, raising her hand above her shoulder would hurt. Now she could raise it to the top of her head.

"Thanks."

Her voice was a bit hoarse.

After Lynx withdrew his hands, he stood up to wash them.

But Saxa didn't hurry to put on her clothes.

She just sat there, looking at Lynx's back, and suddenly spoke: "Hey."

"Hmm?"

"Your woman… that female healer, does she know you are so good at treating injuries?"

Lynx's hand paused. He didn't turn his head: "She knows so."

"So?"

Saxa smiled. "The way she looks at you, she looks like she wants to give you her heart. And you, sneaking into a room alone with another woman at night and making her take off her clothes."

"This is treatnt."

"Treatnt requires stripping naked?"

Saxa stood up and walked behind Lynx. "Lynx, stop pretending. You asked to co at night. Is it really just for treating the injury?"

Lynx turned around.

Saxa stood right in front of him. Her bare upper body was almost pressed against his chest.

The oil lamp light ca from the side, casting clear shadows of light and dark on her face.

"What do you want to say?"

Lynx's eyes darkened.

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