In front of the Roman amphitheater, a massive crowd had gathered.
Although it was always bustling on match days, the excitement had recently intensified even further. Since the Colosseum—the grand symbol of Rome—had not yet been built, gladiator fights were held in a smaller amphitheater. This limitation had led to frustration among some spectators who were eager to see the increasingly popular matches.
Marcus watched with satisfaction, seeing the crowd's enthusiasm as proof that his idea was working well.
"Yaaaaaaaaa!"
The roar from inside the arena reverberated like thunder.
"Good, good. It's heating up."
"Since this is what the young master envisioned, it's bound to be a success."
"It's impressive how advanced it is, even at this early stage."
Danae and Septimus, now acting as Marcus's personal assistants, shared their thoughts as they walked together.
While they were talking, Marcus felt a sudden jolt from behind. A young girl, who had been running excitedly, collided with him and fell to the ground.
"Ouch!"
Tears welled up in the girl's eyes as she sat on the dirt.
"Oh, sorry. Are you okay?"
Though it was the girl who had bumped into him, Marcus gently helped her up.
The girl, who appeared to be a year or two younger than Danae, wiped away her tears and dusted off her soiled tunica. Blushing, she offered a polite apology that seemed beyond her years.
"I'm sorry. I got so excited that I didn't see you."
"No harm done. But try to look where you're going when you run."
"Yes. Thank you for forgiving me."
The girl bowed once more before walking away to join her distressed-looking slave.
As Marcus watched her leave, he felt an odd premonition. He had a strange feeling that he might encounter the girl again in the future.
Danae, observing the girl's retreating figure, patted Marcus on the back and puffed out her cheeks in exasperation.
"This is why children can be a problem. They run around just because they're a little excited."
"You're still a kid yourself, hahaha. But that girl seemed more mature than her age. Even though her clothes weren't flashy, she's probably from a noble family."
"Ugh... you're right. But I've had enough of that kind of immaturity back in my hometown."
"What's the point in holding a grudge against a child whose name you don't even know?" Marcus smiled and patted Danae on the shoulder.
Just as the minor disturbance settled down, a plump middle-aged man hurriedly emerged from the amphitheater.
Looking around, Cornelio spotted Marcus and rushed over, breathing heavily.
"I'm very sorry for keeping you waiting. I'm Cornelio, the Auctor (promoter) hired for this event."
"Nice to meet you. I wasn't waiting long, so don't worry about it. Let's hear the report first."
"Certainly. First, we're enhancing each gladiator's individuality with well-developed backstories. The verbal battles of the gladiators, which are posted outside the arena before each match, have been very well received. We are still working on classifying them into 3 to 4 weight classes and finalizing their rankings."
"Good. And how about Spartacus?"
"The match is about to start. Would you like to go inside and watch it for yourself?"
Marcus nodded. Cornelio guided him to the VIP table that had been prepared.
At that moment, Spartacus entered the arena.
He seemed transformed from the last time Marcus saw him in Capua. His outfit gleamed with new splendor, and the silver guards on his wrists sparkled in the sunlight.
"A warrior taking the stage again, thanks to the crowd's support! Spartacus! As previously announced, this man aims to achieve 100 victories, an unprecedented record in gladiatorial history! How long will this challenge last?"
Spartacus raised his hand and let out a triumphant roar.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
The announcer then introduced Spartacus's opponent.
"Entering the arena with an ornate scabbard, a formidable Germanic gladiator: Atari!"
Marcus watched the match with a calm demeanor.
The entire event was meticulously orchestrated. The match's direction, the roles of the gladiators, and the overall atmosphere were all carefully calculated. The audience and Atari had no idea what to expect. Every detail was planned.
"Now, who will emerge victorious in this clash!" The announcer's voice signaled the start of the battle.
Atari and Spartacus charged at each other simultaneously, disregarding defense.
Atari's sword gleamed sharply as it swung.
Spartacus deftly twisted his body to deflect the blade with ease. He held his sword with one hand.
-Whiiing
The sound of the sword slicing through the air was menacing.
-Caang!
The swords collided mid-air. Atari was pushed back by the force of the impact. Even though he wielded his sword with both hands, the disparity in strength was evident.
A moment of confusion crossed Atari's face, obscured by his shaggy beard.
Yet, Atari was a seasoned fighter with nearly ten victories in Rome, the highest level of competition.
Recognizing his disadvantage, he drew on all his skills without losing his composure.
The crowd erupted in exclamations as Atari managed to counter Spartacus's relentless attacks.
-Sugak!
Finally, Spartacus's sword struck Atari's waist. Blood stained the floor as the crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch.
The match continued with several intricate counterattacks. Spartacus, who seemed to be under pressure at times, managed to navigate through each crisis with finesse.
Everything unfolded according to plan.
As the crowd's excitement reached a frenzy, Spartacus delivered the decisive blow—a single sword strike from collarbone to abdomen.
Atari's body collapsed as blood spurted from the sword strike. The wound wasn't fatal, but it was enough to end the fight.
As Spartacus raised his sword, the crowd's fists shot into the air in unison.
"Spartacus! Spartacus!"
"The strongest gladiator!"
Spartacus's voice rang out, echoing through the stadium. "To those seeking revenge, hone your skills and challenge me again!"
His bold declaration ignited the crowd's fervor. There was no mention of executing the defeated. Instead, the entire audience focused on praising Spartacus.
**
After the match, Spartacus rejoined Marcus's entourage as usual. Although not a slave in the training camp, he spent most of his time by Marcus's side outside of competitions and training.
"You've become very skilled," Marcus said.
"I tried my best, as they told me not to end the match too easily. I'm not sure if I did well."
"You were excellent. Your first match made a strong impression with its decisive victory, and the second match was thrilling. It's the perfect flow."
"But don't I hold back to avoid taking my opponent's life too quickly?"
"If you're worried about that, you shouldn't be fighting at all. It's not important."
"...I see."
"It's not good for anyone if a skilled opponent overpowers someone without giving them a chance. It doesn't leave a good impression on the audience."
Even though Atari lost, he demonstrated impressive counterattacks and relentless fighting spirit until the end. The audience didn't boo him.
"You seem to have great insight. I'm curious, weren't you worried about me? You didn't know what I would do after being released from the gladiator training camp."
"It's not that I lacked confidence; I trust my ability to judge people."
Spartacus was known historically for his character, not indiscriminately killing even those he despised. Marcus was already aware of this, but it was a pleasant surprise for Spartacus.
"I'm truly grateful, Young Master. Had I stayed in Capua, I would have been consumed by anger and lost myself."
"If you stayed under someone like Batiatus, that's inevitable. By the way, didn't you mention you had a wife? Do you know where she was sold?"
Spartacus stiffened as if struck by lightning. He lowered his head and shook it, a look of deep remorse on his face. "Unfortunately, I don't know. I only know she was sold as a slave in Rome."
"I can attempt to investigate, though I can't guarantee success. It might be difficult to find her, and there's a chance she might have already died. Even if I locate her, she might not be as you remember."
"Yes, but even so, I want to find her." Spartacus spoke with resolve, his voice trembling. "Even if she's dead or has been degraded, even if she blames me for not protecting her... I am responsible for finding her. Please, help me locate my wife."
Marcus nodded calmly. It was a request he could certainly fulfill if he was determined.
"Septimus, regardless of the cost, start the investigation today. Spartacus will provide you with the information about his wife."
"Understood."
"Thank you! Thank you so much. I will repay this kindness with my life if necessary." Spartacus's eyes lit up, and a single tear rolled down his cheek—a sight unexpected from the usually stoic gladiator.
Marcus deliberately averted his gaze, not wanting to witness the strong man's rare display of emotion.
Spartacus and his wife had been brought to Rome several years ago. Given the time elapsed and the limited details—appearance, age, and name—the chances of locating her were slim.
The investigation would require substantial financial resources and many hired hands. Yet, Marcus was willing to invest in this endeavor for Spartacus, knowing it would earn his absolute loyalty.
Spartacus's character meant he would now be dedicated to Marcus, eliminating the likelihood of being attacked or betrayed.
**
Back at the mansion, Marcus unwound by soaking in his private bath. While Rome boasted large public baths, Marcus preferred the privacy and cleanliness of his own bath.
The public baths, despite their popularity, were often unhygienic. Romans, despite their frequent bathing, did not understand modern concepts of cleanliness. They rarely changed the bathwater and did not wash their bodies before entering. Instead, they applied oil and then bathed, using the bathhouse more as a social venue than a place for cleanliness.
Marcus planned to address public bath hygiene once he assumed office. Improving cleanliness could reduce disease rates and become a notable achievement.
For now, since he wasn't in a government position, he had no immediate plans to tackle this issue. Meanwhile, his private bath was meticulously maintained.
"Ah, it's so relaxing to soak in hot water," Marcus murmured, enjoying his respite while attended by slaves. Initially, he had been uncomfortable with female attendants, but he was now accustomed to it.
Danae entered with a cup of cold, diluted wine and handed it to Marcus.
"Here you go, Young Master."
"Thank you. It must have been tiring for you to follow me around all day. You can rest now since there's no work this evening."
"Yes, I'll take a break, thanks to you."
Danae, though reluctant to withdraw, managed a smile and added, "Spartacus seems very grateful."
"Indeed. It's curious how a man's feelings can remain so strong despite the passage of time. Even after so long, his affection remains."
"You'll marry someone wonderful who suits you someday, right? Although, finding the right match might be challenging."
"Why do you say that?"
Danae replied seriously, without a hint of a smile, "I doubt anyone could be a perfect match for you, Young Master. Someone too perfect could bring complications. It would likely be a marriage where you hold all the power."
Marcus chuckled and took a sip of his wine, finding her seriousness amusing.
His reflection in the wine's surface revealed a handsome face. At his tall stature for his age, he was growing into a strikingly good-looking man. He was more content with his appearance than he had been in the past.
"Marriage is a future concern. I'll address it when I'm older and can assess the conditions thoroughly."
Most marriages in this era were arranged, but that didn't necessarily mean unhappiness. Many couples enjoyed fulfilling lives together, even when their unions were politically motivated.
Marcus anticipated a similar arrangement, yet he hoped for a happy marriage.
"Are there any families already considering marriage proposals for you?"
"Not yet, though my brother might have some ideas. For me, it's unlikely at the moment. My reputation is improving, but it hasn't reached the level where serious discussions are happening."
"That's true. But it won't be long before your true value is recognized. Soon, Rome's most powerful families will be eager to court you."
"Indeed, but I'll need to consider my own preferences in a bride."
In fact, Marcus had already identified potential families for marriage, though these were more for future use rather than immediate concerns.
"Marriage should be based on mutual understanding. Even if I propose, there's always a chance they might refuse."
Thus, instead of focusing on one possibility, he planned to explore several options to prepare for any eventuality.
Rome practiced monogamy, so choosing a partner was crucial. Finding someone who was both a perfect match and personally compatible was ideal.
The steam from the bath mingled with Marcus's thoughts about the future, much like the aroma of the wine.
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