Chapter 6: The Price of Power

James stepped through the gates of the Ludus Magnus, the air still thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and sand.

Varro, his newly crowned champion, stood by his side, his body bruised but victorious. The gladiator's scarred face remained expressionless, but James could see it in his eyes—pride. Confidence. A hunger for more.

Angela trailed closely behind, clutching James's newly earned gold pouch like it was the key to their future.

Felix Cornelius watched them from the noble stands, his arms crossed, his smirk unreadable.

"You've made an impression, James," Felix finally said, stepping forward. "One fight. One win. But Rome is not so easily conquered."

James smirked. "Neither am I."

Felix chuckled. "I like your confidence. But confidence alone won't buy you power."

James stepped closer, his voice low. "Then tell me, Felix… what will?"

The noble studied him for a long moment. Then, he gestured toward the inner chambers of the gladiator school.

"Come inside. Let's talk business."

The Offer – More Blood, More Gold

Inside Felix's lavish private chamber, a slave poured wine into silver cups as James took a seat across from his new "partner."

Felix leaned forward. "Rome has seen many men like you. Ambitious. Clever. Hungry for power. But few last long."

James took a sip of his wine, unfazed. "I'm not most men."

Felix chuckled. "No, you're not. Which is why I'm giving you an opportunity."

He placed a scroll on the table, unrolling it. It was an official gladiator contract, stamped with the seal of a Roman magistrate.

"This," Felix explained, "is a sponsorship contract for the upcoming Venatio—a grand arena event hosted in honor of a powerful noble's birthday."

James's brows raised. The Venatio wasn't just an ordinary fight—it was a major spectacle, featuring gladiators, exotic beasts, and high-profile bets.

"If your fighter competes and wins," Felix continued, "your name will spread through Rome like wildfire."

James ran his fingers over the scroll. "And if I lose?"

Felix smirked. "Then the nobles will laugh at you… and you'll be another forgotten fool who thought he could play in their world."

Angela clutched James's sleeve nervously. "Master… this could be dangerous."

James leaned back, a slow grin forming.

"Dangerous?" He looked at Varro, who stood silently by the door.

"My men don't fear danger."

He grabbed the scroll, signing his name.

"I accept."

Felix grinned. "Good. Then let's see if your warriors are as strong as you claim."

A New Enemy – The Rival Slaveholder

As James exited the Ludus Magnus, gold in his pockets and ambition in his heart, he barely noticed the pair of eyes watching him from the shadows.

A wealthy, middle-aged noble, dressed in deep red robes, sat in a shaded balcony overlooking the streets. His fat fingers tapped against the stone railing, his expression cold.

Marcus Domitius, was one of the most powerful slaveholders in Rome, and the owner of over a hundred gladiators.

He had watched James's rapid rise with suspicion.

"A nobody… suddenly making waves in my arena?" Marcus muttered, swirling his wine.

Beside him, a hulking bodyguard—a former gladiator with a cruel smile—chuckled darkly.

"Shall we have him… removed?" the bodyguard suggested.

Marcus smirked. "Not yet. Let's see how far he climbs. Then, when he starts to believe he is invincible…"

He took a slow sip of his wine.

"…We will crush him."

Back at the Estate – Preparing for War

James returned to his villa, greeted by his loyal slaves who bowed as he entered. The air was thick with anticipation—they had all heard about Varro's victory.

Angela followed James into his study, setting down the gold pouch.

"Master… this event will be different," she said quietly. "Varro won his first fight, but this… this is the Venatio. It will be bloodier. More dangerous."

James nodded. "I know."

Angela hesitated. "Then… we need to prepare."

James smirked. "Already ahead of you."

He turned toward the gathered male slaves. Twenty strong men, all staring at him with uncertain eyes.

"Listen well," James said, his voice commanding. "From today onward, you will not be simple slaves. You will be warriors."

The men stiffened. Some exchanged glances, uncertain.

"You saw Varro's victory," James continued. "You saw how a mere slave can rise above men who call themselves free."

He stepped forward, looking each of them in the eye.

"I will train you. I will make you stronger. And in return, you will fight for me. You will fight for glory. You will fight for Rome itself."

A brief silence.

Then—one by one—the slaves dropped to their knees.

"Master," one of them murmured, eyes burning with newfound purpose. "Teach us."

James smiled.

"Good."

The Training Begins – Forging the Slave Army

Over the next week, James turned his estate into a training ground.

Varro became the first trainer, drilling the other slaves in combat techniques.

James used his system rewards to purchase better weapons and armor.

Intense conditioning—running, sparring, and strength training to turn them into warriors.

Loyalty increased—as they trained, their admiration for James grew.

[Beep! Slave Loyalty increased: +2%]

[Beep! New stat points earned: +3]

James smirked as he read the system notifications.

"Good. This is only the beginning."

As James oversaw training, a messenger arrived, bearing a sealed letter.

Angela took it, her face paling as she read the name.

"Master… this is from Marcus Licinius Crassus."

James's eyes flickered with interest.

"So, one of Rome's most powerful men has noticed me already?"

He took the letter, breaking the wax seal.

Inside was a simple message:

"I have heard of your recent success, James Stone. Come to my estate tomorrow. We have much to discuss."

James smirked.

"Crassus… the richest man in Rome. This is my chance to enter true power."

He set the letter down, turning to Angela.

"Prepare the carriage. Tomorrow, we meet Crassus."

Angela swallowed, nodding. "Yes, Master."

James stepped out onto his balcony, overlooking his estate, and his growing army.

"I've won my first battle… but the real war is just beginning."