Sparks flew as blades clashed. The sharp sound of metal against metal echoed throughout the colosseum. The crowds cheered as the fighters jumped at each other with the intensity of wild beasts. Jake looked away with a disapproving frown. He understood that they were either criminals or slaves from enemy countries but it just didn't feel right. Used as entertainment for the royals and the people. That was no way to live.
The crowds roared in applause as one of the fighters head rolled off his shoulders, soaking the sands of the colosseum crimson red. The other fighter threw his hands up in victory. He lived to fight another day. He swaggered to the exit of the colosseum, only to be chained up again.
"Would you do us the honours, my prince?"
Jake rose from his seat, smiling and nodding as he waved his hands before giving a thumbs up, signalling for the release of the next two gladiators to enter. Just like he rehearsed it.
The gates opened and the crowds went wild. Cyrus strutted into the arena, laughing and basking in the glory the crowd readily provided him with. He was no ordinary slave. He was the undefeated champion. The God of the colosseum. The bringer of death.
From the other side of the colosseum, paling in comparison, a man with brown skin staggered into the arena. He was well built and heavily scarred.
A soldier, most likely. Jake thought to himself. This might get interesting.
To be continued...
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