Ulixes followed the guard in silence, his heart beating to a heavy rhythm. The training arena was now empty, lit by the pale moonlight and a few torches. Oenomaus stood there alone, his back to Ulixes.
"Go," the Doctore said to the guard without turning.
The sound of the guard's footsteps faded, leaving the two of them in a tense silence. Ulixes could feel every muscle tense up, anticipating pain.
"I have trained hundreds of men on this sand," Oenomaus said, his voice low, as if talking to a ghost. "I have seen them arrive as terrified slaves, and I have seen them leave as legends, or as corpses. I know how a man learns to fight. The process is slow. Painful. Full of failure."
He finally turned, his eyes fixed on Ulixes with a piercing intensity. "But you... you don't learn. You... remember."
The Doctore threw two wooden swords at Ulixes' feet. "Take both."
Ulixes hesitated for a moment, then picked up both swords. It felt awkward in his hands.
"Crixus fights with a sword and a shield. Spartacus, with his Thracian style. But in this house, there is a style that has long been forgotten." Oenomaus picked up his own two wooden swords. "The style of a Dimachaerus. Fighting with two swords."
Rapid Adaptation, Ulixes thought. His brain immediately processed Oenomaus's posture, the way he held both swords, the distribution of his body weight.
"I will show you a series of movements," the Doctore said. "Only once. Pay close attention."
Oenomaus moved. It was not an attack, but a deadly dance. His left sword blocked an imaginary attack while his right sword thrust. He spun, his two swords becoming a blurry vortex of wood, covering every angle, defending and attacking at the same time. His movements were complex, fluid, and would take years to master.
He stopped, returning to his initial position. "Now, your turn. Show me what you saw."
Ulixes swallowed. This was an impossible test. But as he raised both swords, something happened. His brain no longer just tried to mimic. It understood. The patterns, which he had just seen, now felt like muscles that had long been dormant inside him.
He took a deep breath and began to move. His first movements were clumsy, but then his brain took over. The left sword blocked, the right sword thrust. He spun. Perhaps not as graceful as Oenomaus, not as powerful, but... the patterns were right. Every movement, every step, was nearly perfect from what he had just witnessed.
He finished the series of movements, out of breath, and looked at Oenomaus.
The Doctore's face showed no expression, but his eyes... his eyes were lit with an unmasked shock. He stood still for a long time.
"You have held two swords before," Oenomaus said. It was not a question.
"Never, Doctore," Ulixes replied, and it was the truth. In his world, he had only ever held a controller stick.
Oenomaus walked closer, his gaze scanning Ulixes from head to toe, as if looking for signs of a lie. "You are a puzzle forged in a fire I do not know."
He paused, as if making a decision. "This ludus is on the verge of a change. Spartacus. Crixus. They will destroy each other, and many good men will be pulled in between them."
The Doctore's gaze softened, just for a moment, revealing the exhaustion of a man who had seen too much death. "I need a weapon. Someone who can adapt. Someone who can do what needs to be done when the champions are blinded by their pride."
He clapped Ulixes on the shoulder, a surprising gesture. "Starting tomorrow, after the regular training is over, you will come back here. You will train with me."
Oenomaus turned to leave.
"Doctore," Ulixes called out.
The man stopped.
"Why?" Ulixes asked. "Why me?"
Oenomaus turned his head, a faint hint of a smile—the first Ulixes had ever seen—appeared on his lips. "Because in a world full of roaring lions, sometimes a silent snake is the most dangerous."
Ulixes' nights now belonged to Oenomaus. Under the flickering torchlight, the silent training arena became his private classroom. The Doctore did not hold back. He taught Ulixes the fundamentals of the Dimachaerus style, a two-sword fighting style that demanded balance, speed, and the ability to think both offensively and defensively at the same time.
For a normal person, this would take years. For Ulixes, thanks to [Rapid Adaptation], every lesson was absorbed like a sponge. Every movement Oenomaus showed, every posture correction, was instantly recorded in his memory. In a week, he could match Oenomaus for a few seconds before being disarmed. In two weeks, he could hold on for almost a minute.
His extraordinary progress did not go unnoticed. During the day, among the other gladiators, Ulixes became a ghost. He moved with efficiency, defeating his opponents in training without showing off, only with deadly precision. Crixus hated him even more, seeing Ulixes's rise as a personal insult. Spartacus watched him from a distance, his sharp eyes trying to read the puzzle before him.
"You are learning too fast," Varro said one afternoon, after Ulixes had easily parried all his attacks. "It is unnatural. It makes people nervous." "Let them be nervous," Ulixes replied, while using Subtle Regeneration to restore his tired muscles from the double training sessions.
Ulixes' next opportunity did not come from the arena sand, but from his Domina's ambition. Lucretia, with Ilithyia now a regular guest at the villa, decided to hold an exclusive gathering for their noblewoman friends. An afternoon filled with wine, gossip, and, of course, a private exhibition of Batiatus's best gladiators.
"We will display Crixus, of course," Lucretia said to Batiatus as they planned the event. "And Spartacus, the 'Bring Rain' who is the talk of the town." "Don't forget Ulixes," Batiatus added with a cunning grin. "The Doctore's personal project. The women love something new and mysterious. Ulixes will be displayed."
So, Ulixes once again found himself standing half-naked in the villa's inner garden, his body oiled and displayed for the gaze of Capua's wealthiest women. He felt their stares like a physical touch—full of curiosity, desire, and a little fear.
He scanned their faces. Aemilia. Domitia. And there, standing beside Ilithyia, Licinia the cousin of Marcus Crassus, the richest man in Rome. She was beautiful, with a bored look that indicated someone who had everything and was not impressed by anything.
Ilithyia, in her provocative style, led her friends. "Look, Licinia! Aren't they like gods forged from bronze and sweat?"
Licinia gave a small laugh, the sound melodious but cold. "They are just slaves, Ilithyia. Beautiful meat, nothing more."
However, as her eyes swept over the line of gladiators, her gaze stopped on Ulixes. Unlike Crixus who radiated arrogance or Spartacus who burned with defiance, Ulixes just stood there, quiet and observing. There was an intelligence in his eyes that the others did not possess.
"That one," Licinia said, pointing with her chin. "I've never seen him. Who is he?" "His name is Ulixes," Lucretia replied, stepping forward. "He is a newcomer, but has already shown incredible promise." "Promise, you say?" Licinia gave a thin smile. "I'm more interested in... proof."
She stepped closer to Ulixes, circling him as if he were a statue in a market. Her gaze was sharp, assessing every muscle and scar. Ulixes stood still, holding his breath. The opportunity was here, right in front of him.
As Licinia stood before him, looking into his eyes with a challenging stare, Ulixes knew this was the moment. Subtle Influence.
[SUBTLE INFLUENCE ACTIVATED ON TARGET: LICINIA]
As before with Lucretia, there was no visible effect. But Ulixes could feel it. The wall of boredom and arrogance around Licinia cracked, just a little. Her shallow curiosity now turned into genuine interest. Her cold challenge was now tinged with a little... passion.
Licinia raised her hand and touched Ulixes' jaw, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "Perhaps," she whispered, her voice now lower, "there is more than just meat to you."
She turned to Lucretia, her smile now real. "I will buy him." "Buy him?" Lucretia seemed shocked. "Not forever, of course," Licinia said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Just for one night."
An awkward silence fell. Ilithyia stared at Licinia as if she had just grown a second head, while the other noblewomen whispered behind their fans. Buying a gladiator for one night was a fantasy often discussed, but rarely done so openly, especially by someone of Licinia's caliber.
Lucretia was the first to recover. "Licinia, my dear," she said with a forced smile, "a gladiator is not a rental. They are an investment, a valuable asset to this house."
"Everything has a price, Lucretia," Licinia countered casually, her eyes still on Ulixes. "Just name the number."
Just then, Batiatus arrived, drawn by the commotion. "Is there a problem, my wife?" "No problem at all," Licinia interjected, taking over the conversation. "I am merely stating my intention to enjoy the services of this new slave of yours for the night. His Domina seems hesitant."
Batiatus looked at Ulixes, then at Licinia, and instantly the gears in his cunning brain began to turn. Marcus Crassus's cousin. Here, in his house, asking for one of his gladiators. This was not just a transaction; this was a connection.
"Of course there is hesitation," Batiatus said with a serious tone. "Ulixes is no ordinary slave. He is a prodigy. His talent is rare. To allow him to perform duties outside the arena... it is risky. The price will be... very steep."
"I am not asking about your difficulties," Licinia said, now sounding impatient. "I am asking for the price."
Batiatus smiled. He named a ridiculous number, enough to buy five trained gladiators.
Without blinking, Licinia replied, "Very well." She gestured to one of her servants, who immediately approached. "Pay this man and arrange for his delivery to my chambers."
That night, Ulixes was escorted by a guard to one of the most luxurious guest rooms in the villa, which had been specially prepared for Licinia. A large divan with silk sheets, a bottle of expensive Falernian wine, and dozens of candles that cast a warm, honey-scented light.
When Licinia entered, she had already shed her dress and was wearing only a thin robe. She poured two goblets of wine, giving one to Ulixes.
"Drink," she commanded.
Ulixes obeyed. The wine was sweet and strong.
"I am bored, Ulixes," Licinia said, circling him. "I am bored with the soft, flowery Roman men. They talk of politics and poetry when they are on top of me. They are afraid to sweat." She stopped in front of him. "Show me something different."
She untied her robe, letting it fall to the floor. Under the candlelight, her body looked perfect, her skin glowing. But her gaze was cold and demanding.
Ulixes put down his goblet. He wasted no time. He stepped forward and lifted Licinia into his arms, his lips immediately seeking hers. Their kiss felt like a fight—light bites, tongues intertwining aggressively. Licinia groaned, her hands squeezing the muscles of Ulixes' shoulders.
He carried Licinia to the divan, laid her down, and immediately positioned himself on top of her. There was no hesitation, no gentleness. This was what the woman wanted: a primal strength that did not ask for permission. His perfectly hard penis pressed against her wet vagina. With one powerful thrust, he entered her.
"Y-yes...!" Licinia gasped, her eyes wide with the sudden and overwhelming sensation. Her pelvis instinctively rose to receive him deeper.
Ulixes began to move, his thrusts fast, deep, and relentless. Each thrust was accompanied by the sound of wet skin slapping, a savage rhythm that filled the room. Licinia's firm breasts shook violently, Ulixes sucked on those breasts very greedily, and Licinia's moans turned into uncontrollable cries.
"Harder...!" she pleaded, her voice hoarse. Her legs wrapped tightly around Ulixes' waist, pulling him closer, demanding more.
Ulixes obeyed, his arena-trained stamina allowing him to maintain the brutal tempo. Sweat drenched their bodies, making their skin glisten. He could feel the muscles inside Licinia's vagina clenching and twitching, signaling her approaching orgasm.
"I... I'm going to... AHHH!" She screamed as a wave of pleasure hit her, her body convulsing violently beneath Ulixes. Her back arched, and her fingers raked Ulixes' back, leaving long scratches.
Even as her body was still trembling, Ulixes did not stop. He continued to thrust, pushing her past her limit, toward the next climax. Licinia could only surrender, her mind blank, her body completely consumed by sensation. She screamed again, the second orgasm coming faster and stronger than the first.
This time, Ulixes felt his own peak arrive. With a deep growl, he thrust one last time, spilling his hot and copious seed deep inside her. He slumped on top of her, their ragged breaths becoming the only sound in the room.
After a moment, Licinia gently pushed him. She sat up, her hair disheveled, her body covered in sweat and red marks. She looked at Ulixes with an expression of awe.
"By the gods..." she whispered.
That's when Ulixes felt it. The familiar sensation, the system panel glowing in his mind.
[REQUIREMENT MET: ROMAN NOBLEWOMAN CONQUERED]
[NEW LEGACY UNLOCKED]
[YOU HAVE GAINED: [TALENT] STAMINA]
Description: The limits of physical and cardiovascular endurance are permanently increased. Muscle fatigue occurs slower, and energy recovery is accelerated.
A deep and stable wave of energy flowed throughout his body. Not a temporary surge like Power Surge, but a fundamental strengthening of his physical foundation. The post-sex fatigue he should have felt was now gone, replaced by a feeling of calm vitality. He could do this all night without stopping.
He looked at Licinia, who was still staring at him in disbelief. He had gotten what he wanted.