The soldier was frightened. He was used to fighting for his life. But what stood before him seemed like inevitable death. The war had tired him. His village was conquered. And now, before his eyes stood a monstrous God whose muscles rippled with overflowing hunger for blood.
The soldier drew his sword and lifted his shield with trembling hands. The God burst into laughter. The God then stabbed the two swords he wielded into the sands and taunted the soldier, signalling for him to attack while the God was defenseless.
"Don't fuck with me." The soldier rushed forward with new found confidence, driven by anger. No human could stand against a trained soldier of war weaponless and live to tell the tale. He seemed to forget that the one who stood before him was no human. Cyrus was a God.
The soldier charged with a frenzy of attacks. Stab, shield smash followed by a slash. Just as he learnt in the military. Cyrus side stepped the stab, pushed back the shield smash and caught the hilt of the sword before the slash could be executed. He crushed the hand that was on the hilt, forcing the soldier to drop his sword.
"Too hasty, boy."
With that, Cyrus grabbed the shield with both hands and twisted, breaking the soldier's arm and stealing the shield in one fluid motion. He then stomped the soldier im the chest, causing him to fall flat on the ground.
"Maybe in the next life," the God sneered and thrusted the shield at the soldier's neck, severing his head from his spasming body.
With their bloodlust satisfied, the crowd worshipped Cyrus and applaused in ecstasy as Cyrus grabbed the head and drinked the bloody river that flowed out of the neck.
After he had his fill, Cyrus clenched his fists and raised it to the heavens in celebration of his victory. He paraded down the colosseum and back through the gates. The gates slammed shut with a harsh ring. Cyrus put his shackles back on and walked out, away from the glory, back to the life of a slave. But he stood proud, head high. For he was more than just a slave. Less than a man, but still, more than a slave. He was the survivor. He was the victor. He was a gladiator.
He was a God of the colosseum.
To be continued...
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