The musty smell of the cell was suffocating. Varro jumped to his feet, hands raised. "Crixus, this is not necessary—"
"Stand aside, Varro," Barca, the Carthaginian giant, growled, pushing him to the wall with ease. "This is a champion's business."
Crixus stepped forward, his shadow engulfing Ulixes. His cruel sneer was the last thing Ulixes saw before a fist as hard as a rock hit his face. Pain exploded in his cheek, and he was thrown to the floor.
"Who do you think you are?" Crixus stood over him, condescending. "Coming to my home, looking at me as if you're my equal."
Another kick landed in Ulixes' stomach, forcing him to curl up. The air felt hot in his lungs. He could feel his ribs crackling. Crixus gestured, and Barca and Gnaeus came forward to hold Ulixes, lifting him until his feet barely touched the floor.
"Someone needs to know their place," Crixus said, bringing his face closer. His breath smelled of sour wine. "And your place is under my feet."
Crixus swung his fist again, this time aiming for Ulixes' unprotected stomach. Ulixes saw the movement coming, slow, as if time was giving him one last chance. This was it. His one and only chance.
Power Surge!
[POWER SURGE ACTIVATED. DURATION: 60 SECONDS] [Uses Remaining Today: 0/2]
Hot power flooded every fiber of his muscles. The sharp pain turned into a pulsating energy. Just before Crixus's fist landed, Ulixes tightened his stomach muscles.
Thud!
Crixus pulled his hand back with a surprised roar, as if he had just punched a stone wall. "What the hell?"
Using that moment of confusion, Ulixes jerked his arms. Barca and Gnaeus' grips, which had felt like steel shackles, now felt breakable. With one strong yank, he pulled away, twisted his body, and slammed his elbow into Gnaeus' face.
Gnaeus stumbled back, his nose broken. Barca cursed, trying to grab Ulixes again, but Ulixes was already moving. His speed was inhuman. He slid under Barca's arm and kicked the back of his knee. The Carthaginian Beast knelt with an angry growl.
It all happened in a matter of seconds. Varro stared with his mouth agape.
Now only Crixus remained. The Champion of Capua looked at his two temporarily incapacitated companions, then back at Ulixes with a look of disbelief that quickly turned into pure rage.
"You will die for that," Crixus hissed.
Crixus lunged, no longer with arrogance, but with the intent to kill. His movements were fast, his punches powerful. But for 60 seconds, Ulixes' world moved at a different rhythm. He could see every swing, every shift in weight. He did not try to fight strength with strength; he dodged, parried, and let Crixus' momentum carry him past the target.
Ulixes saw an opening. As Crixus swung his right hand, he ducked and slammed his shoulder into the champion's stomach.
Crixus stumbled, his breath catching. For a moment, the invincible champion seemed vulnerable. Ulixes did not waste the opportunity. He jumped, his knee hitting Crixus' jaw hard.
Crack!
Crixus fell to his knees, blood dripping from his lips. He looked at Ulixes, his eyes burning with rage and humiliation.
The system's power began to fade. Ulixes' muscles started to feel heavy, the pain returning. He knew he only had a few seconds left. He could not defeat Crixus. Not now. But he could leave a mark.
As Crixus tried to get up, Ulixes stepped forward and whispered, just loud enough for Crixus alone to hear, "Now you know my name."
Just then, the cell door was slammed open with a powerful force. "ENOUGH!"
Oenomaus stood there, his eyes burning like embers. Behind him, several guards were on alert. He looked at the kneeling Crixus, the bleeding nose of Gnaeus, Barca who was still trying to stand straight, and finally, Ulixes, who stood panting above them all.
An eerie silence filled the corridor. The Doctore stepped into the cell, his whip hissing on the stone floor.
"Crixus," Oenomaus said in a low, deadly voice. "Explain yourself."
Crixus stood up, wiping blood from his lips. He looked at Ulixes with immense hatred. "This dog needed a lesson in manners, Doctore."
"And it seems," Oenomaus stopped right in front of Ulixes, looking him up and down. "The lesson ended with a surprise."
He turned, his voice now echoing for all to hear. "Take Crixus and the others away. This new recruit... he will spend the rest of the night with me."
The room was empty, except for a thick wooden pole embedded in the middle of the packed dirt floor. A palus. Torches on the walls flickered, creating long dancing shadows. Oenomaus stood still in one corner, his presence filling the room more than his shadow did. There was no anger on his face, only a cold calmness that was far more terrifying.
Ulixes stood before him, every muscle screaming in protest. The strength from Power Surge was completely gone, leaving the piercing pain from his fight with Crixus.
"You did the impossible," Oenomaus said, his voice calm. "A new recruit, not even a full day of holding a wooden sword, took down the Champion of Capua."
Ulixes remained silent. Every answer felt like a trap.
"I am not asking how," the Doctore continued, starting to walk around him. "Luck can favor anyone, even a dog. I am asking why."
"He attacked me in my cell," Ulixes answered, his voice hoarse. "I was only defending myself."
"Defending yourself?" Oenomaus stopped behind him. Ulixes could feel the heat from the man's body. "You humiliated a champion in front of his brothers. You disrupted the order I have built with blood and sweat for years."
Hiss! The tip of the whip lashed Ulixes' back. A burning pain tore his skin. He gritted his teeth, refusing to scream.
"Here, there is only one rule: you obey," Oenomaus said. "You obey me. You obey the champion. You obey the hierarchy."
Hiss! Crack! Another one. This time on his thigh. Ulixes stumbled, but stayed on his feet.
"But you... you did not obey. You fought back as if you had a right." Oenomaus came back in front of him, his eyes scrutinizing. "You are not afraid to die."
"I am more afraid to live as cattle," Ulixes replied, his breath ragged.
Oenomaus stared at him for a long time, as if weighing his soul. "Bold words. Let's see if your body can back them up."
He threw a wooden sword at Ulixes' feet. "Pick it up."
Ulixes picked it up. His hands were trembling with exhaustion.
"Fight me," Oenomaus commanded, picking up his own wooden sword. "Show me the strength you used to take down Crixus."
Ulixes knew this was a joke. He had no power left. He only had one thing. Subtle Regeneration, he thought desperately.
[SUBTLE REGENERATION ACTIVATED. REPAIRING MINOR INJURIES] [Uses Remaining Today: 0/2]
The warmth spread again, easing the pain of the whipping and the new bruises. It did not give him strength, but it gave him the ability to endure more pain.
Oenomaus attacked. His movements were of a deadly efficiency. Ulixes tried to parry, but his sword was knocked out of his hand. A direct hit from the Doctore's pommel struck his ribs. He fell to his knees.
"Pick it up again," Oenomaus said without emotion.
Ulixes crawled, picked up his sword, and got up. Oenomaus attacked again. This time, a kick swept his legs. He fell again.
"Again."
The process repeated. Every time Ulixes got up, he was knocked down in a different, more efficient, more painful way. Oenomaus was not trying to kill him. He was taking him apart, piece by piece, testing the limits of his endurance. The subtle regeneration worked under his skin, repairing minor damage as quickly as Oenomaus inflicted it, allowing him to get up again and again, far beyond what a recruit should have been able to withstand.
After what felt like an hour, Ulixes lay on the ground, barely able to breathe. He tried to get up one more time, but his arms gave out.
"Enough," Oenomaus said.
The Doctore stood over him, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He was not even sweating. "You have will. More than I have ever seen in any recruit. But will alone will not keep you alive here."
He knelt down, looking into Ulixes' eyes. "Crixus will not let this humiliation pass. Next time, there will be no cell or witnesses. He will take your life in the arena, before gods and men. And I... I will let him."
Oenomaus stood up and walked toward the door. "You have received your punishment. You have also earned my attention." He stopped at the doorway, turning his head slightly. "Do not waste it."
Guards dragged Ulixes' battered body back to his cell. Varro was waiting anxiously. "By the gods, what did he do to you?" Varro whispered, helping him lie down on the hay. "Gave me a lesson," Ulixes groaned, every word painful.
He closed his eyes, letting the darkness consume him. He had survived. The brutal first day, the no-holds-barred fight, the confrontation with the champion, and the torment from the Doctore. He survived it all.
As he fell into a restless sleep, in the corner of his consciousness, a blue panel flickered softly. Time had passed midnight.
[LEGACY SYSTEM]
[Host: Ulixes]
[Active Abilities:]
Power Surge (Available: 2/2 per day)
Subtle Influence (Available: 1/1 per day)
Subtle Regeneration (Available: 2/2 per day)
[Passive Ability:] Legacy: [Locked]
A new day had arrived. And with it, new strength to survive.