Rise (2)

The Roman amphitheater was crowded with huge crowds.

It's usually like this on match days, but recently the heat has become even hotter.

The Colosseum, the representative building of Rome, was not yet built at this time.

Instead, gladiator fights took place in a smaller amphitheater.

Perhaps because of this, several people expressed their anger at not being able to watch the ever-growing gladiator fights.

Marcus looked at it with satisfaction.

This is because it proved that the idea he drew was working well.

Haaaaaaaaa!

The sound of shouts from inside the arena resonated like thunder.

"Good, good. It's heating up."

"Since it's what the young master envisioned, it's bound to succeed."

"I'm surprised that it's this much even though it's still in the pilot stage."

Danae and Septimus, who are now clinging to each other like Marcus' exclusive secretary, also expressed their appreciation.

As they walked away, exchanging stories with the two, they felt a slight shock from behind.

A young girl who was running while jumping hit Marcus and fell.

"Ouch!"

Tears rose in the eyes of the girl who fell on her hips.

"Oh sorry. Are you okay?"

Strictly speaking, the wrong person was the girl who ran alone, hit it, and fell, but Marcus soothed her and raised her up.

The crying girl looked more than a year or two younger than Danae.

The girl blushed, shook off the dirty tunica, and wiped away her tears.

And she bowed her head in a polite, unsuitable voice for her age.

"I'm sorry. I was so excited that I stopped being rude."

"No, it's not that rude. Still, even if you feel good from now on, look straight ahead and run."

"Yes, thank you for your forgiveness."

The girl bowed her head once more.

Then, with a calm step, she moved to her slave, who was running away in despair.

Marcus had a strange hunch when he saw the distant back.

He didn't know when it would be, but he felt like he would run into that child again somewhere.

Danae patted Marcus on the back as the girl disappeared far away and puffed her cheeks.

"This is why kids are a problem. She is a little excited, so she is running around."

"I think you're just a kid, too. But isn't that kid very mature for his age? Even though the clothes were not fancy, it was an aristocrat who was neat.

"Ugh... That's true. But when I was in my hometown, I had enough culture like that."

"What are you going to do when you compete with someone you don't even know?"

Marcus smiled and patted Danae on the shoulder. Even if she's mature for her age, she's a perfect kid when you look at her like this.

Shortly after the slight turmoil subsided, a fat middle-aged man hurriedly came out of the amphitheater.

Looking around, he found Marcus, ran at full speed, and greeted him with a breath.

"I'm really sorry to have kept you waiting so long. long time. I'm Cornelius, who was hired as an Auctor (promoter) this time."

"Nice to meet you. I didn't wait too long, so don't worry. Shall we hear the report first?"

"Yes. First of all, in order to maximize the individuality of each gladiator, we are creating a story by adding flesh in moderation. Also, the gladiators' speeches posted outside the arena before the match are very well received. We are currently working on dividing the rankings into three to four weight classes."

"Good, good. What about Spartacus?"

"Actually, the game will just start. Would you like to go in and see for yourself?"

Marcus nodded. Cornelius guided Marcus to the VIP seat he had prepared in advance.

Just in time, Spartacus was entering the arena.

He had become a different person than when he saw him in Capua.

The splendor of the costume was different from before.

The silver protector on the wrist shone brilliantly in the sun.

"The warrior is back on stage thanks to the support of the audience! Spartacus! As previously stated, this man's ambition is to achieve an unprecedented 100 wins in gladiatorial history! How long will this man's challenge last?"

Spartacus raised his hand and let out a loud roar. Shouts of 'waaaaa!' covered the son-in-law.

The host then introduced the other person.

Ataric, a strong Germanic gladiator, entered the stadium wielding a splendidly decorated sword.

Marcus watched the game with a relaxed mind.

It was a stage that was all staged from the beginning.

As a result of the match, the role of gladiators, the way they create tension, and the moment they finish the match.

Ataric, the match's opponent, or the audience, may not have guessed. Everything does not deviate from the already calculated flow.

"Now! Who will be the winner of this match?"

The excited voice of the host signaled the beginning of the gladiator. Ataric and Spartacus rushed toward each other at the same time.

Both sides seemed to have no regard for defense.

Ataric's sword stretched out with a sharp light.

Spartacus turned lightly to deflect the brutal sword blade. He laid out his sword with one hand.

Whiiing, the sound of cutting through the air was a formidable threat.

Caang!

The swords of the two men bumped into each other in the air. Atariq's body, which could not overcome the shock, was pushed back. Even though he received a sword wielded with one hand, it clearly revealed the difference in muscle strength.

For a moment, a feeling of surprise came to his face, covered with a shaggy beard.

Still, Ataric was a veteran who had won close to ten victories in Rome, which was said to be of the highest level.

Recognizing that his skills were behind, he did not lose his coolness and brought all his abilities to the bottom.

The audience's admiration erupted by the movement that spilled Spartacus' onslaught.

However, such mysterious avoidance did not continue forever.

Chew!

In the end, Spartacus' sword scratched Ataric's waist. Ataric's face was distorted with pain, and a stream of blood embroidered the floor.

In the meantime, there were several sharp counterattacks. Spartacus, who seemed to be overwhelmed, also faced a crisis but escaped exquisitely.

Ataric looked precarious, as if he were about to fall, but he rarely knelt.

The thought that you might not know if you keep going like this crossed everyone's mind.

It's all as planned beforehand.

Just when the audience's cheers reached their peak, Spartacus hit the decisive blow.

A sword from the collarbone goes to the abdomen.

Ataric's body collapsed as blood spurted out from the sword strike that struck like a flash.

It wasn't deep enough to take a life, but it was enough to finish the fight.

When Spartacus raised the sword, the entire stadium was shaken by the shouts of the stamping and cheering crowd.

"Spartacus! Spartacus!"

"The strongest gladiator!"

Spartacus shouted in a loud voice that made the stadium reverberate.

"Those who want to avenge, improve your skills and try again as much as you want!"

The confident declaration made countless men's hearts hot.

There was no word to execute the loser. Everyone only praised the name of Spartacus, the winner, loudly.

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