Dragon's Tale 94

I prepared myself for an immediate battle, ready to retaliate as Marcus charged forward, glancing at his bodyguards to see whether they would arrive first, or their master. 

Yet, I met with a surprise. 

Only Marcus moved forward, his weapon drawn. His bodyguards waited on the side while he walked calmly. I might have expected that he wanted to do something ridiculous as dueling for honor, but even that was disproven by the way he was holding his gladius. 

Or the fact that he didn’t have his shield. 

Gladius was an interesting weapon. It was one of the most useless weapons in a duel alone, though the addition of the shield turned it into a half-decent combo — though still inferior. 

Yet, when used by a legion in tight formation, their connected shields cancel most spells that could be used. With the sorcerers of the legion ready to block anything that could overcome the protection of the shields, the simple, unassuming weapon turned into the deadly weapon that allowed Republic to dominate both Europe and Asia. 

Most Roman nobles carried a gladius rather than anything that would be more useful during actual combat due to its military association, but ignored the shield.  

The slow march of Marcus, however, was one of the worst representations of that arrogance. He didn’t even bother to raise his gladius up, giving me free rein to kill him before he could close the distance, especially since I was armed by a spear. 

Of course, nothing he could actually do could save him while I wielded the Spear of Scipio, but it was the principle of the thing. 

It showed that he was supremely confident his opponent, me, a mere slave, could never dare to retaliate, even on the eve of death. 

I paused, only because I wanted to decide whether teaching him a lesson would be appropriate with everything going on. Before I could decide, however, other interruptions arrived. 

“Master Antonius. This slave is truly an expert warrior. Not to mention his achievement of taking down the lion. His presence might help us control the beast. Isn’t it a waste to kill him with everything going on,” Harpax interrupted hurriedly? “I’m willing to pay triple the price you just mentioned if you sell him together with the Nemean lion.” 

I couldn’t help but shake my head. Like they were competing for who would be the first one to die. 

Maybe it was something about being a noble in Rome. They were too far removed from any kind of danger, to the point of losing even the most basic hint of survival, lacking the fear. 

To the point of missing just how badly the Nemean Lion was reacting to my presence, enough that it collapsed on the floor in a submissive pose, their attention on Marcus’ confident walk and what it implied. 

Pity they missed, if they looked at the beast, they would have noticed its abject terror as it trembled like a little kitten, afraid to make even the slightest noise. 

“Unfortunately, that’s not viable. He’s already paid for,” Antonius answered regretfully as he looked at me, though not for a moment I thought his regret was about my death. No, it was the look of a merchant, sad to lose an opportunity to haggle for a higher price for the horse he had already sold. 

“Yes, he is,” Marcus growled as he took another step forward, closing the distance even further. “And it’s money well-spent. It’s time someone taught this disgusting worm how to treat his masters —“ he added as he raised his sword, while the rest watched in, a mixture of pity and fascination. 

Once again, only because they were watching an asset they wanted to be ruined by a spoiled rich brat, and nothing else. 

Unfortunately, that was all he was able to say before I took a quick step forward and grabbed his hair, too fast for him to react, and I pushed him down. 

The gazes of the audience turned into shock, unable to comprehend that I, a slave, dared to raise my hand against them, even when I was on the edge of death. 

Yet, despite their shock, even the bodyguards didn’t move forward. Not because they were afraid of how I would react, but because they didn’t believe that I would actually take that step forward.  

 “H-how dare you—“ Marcus gasped, his eyes wide, but more due to anger than fear, showing even he didn’t understand the true danger he found himself in. 

A tired sigh escaped my mouth even though I felt the fascination of the depths of his entitlement, not even bothering to defend himself as I raised my spear, confident that it wouldn’t come down. 

What a weird mentality, expecting me to accept death just because he was having a temper tantrum. If it was another day, I might have spent some time beating some sense to him before letting him survive. 

But, after the long, exhausting battle that would probably declare me an Enemy of the Republic soon, I was not in the mood. 

An accurate stab from a Patrician Weapon was enough to seriously wound a Disaster-Class beast. Against a spoiled noble brat…  

Immediate death. 

The room fell silent, like they were unable to believe what happened despite the blood slowly spreading. “Fucking morons,” I murmured as I started walking toward Antonius. 

I might have copied Marcus’ slow walk to drive the message, but I found that, as the revenge hovered, I didn’t really care much. 

I had bigger worries than caring about the owner of a gladiatorial school. 

Antonius proved his mettle in ruling a school filled with disobedient warriors by being the one to overcome his shock first, and he turned the rest of the gladiators. “Attack, kill him!” 

“Think about it twice, boys,” I said as I looked at my fellow gladiators, twirling my spear, letting my confidence spread along with my magical presence. “Life is a beautiful thing, do you want to waste that opportunity for our dear ‘master’ just because he made the grievous mistake of crossing me,” I said. 

Unlike the nobles, the gladiators faced death every day, and one benefit of such an opportunity was a sense of survival. They had fought with me many times during training, enough to know that if they dared to attack me first, they would not meet a good end. 

Combined with my excessive confidence, they were smart enough to realize it was not the time to listen to their dear ‘master’ Antonius. 

I couldn’t help but get a perverse enjoyment of Antonius’ shock as his brave gladiators refused to defend him. 

The guards of the nobles didn’t share that perspective, and prepared to attack. Before they could rush forward, I threw my spear. 

They ducked in fear, each fearing they were the target, but the spear sailed without connecting anyone. “So much for the brave Peirous, not even able to hit one of us —“ one of the guards commented, but it was all he was able to say before the Nemean Lion pounced from behind, killing him instantly. 

The spear was there to destroy the lock. 

The gladiators smartly stepped away from Antonius, realizing that things were passing to a point they could intervene. “Go away, no one would know you were here,” I said. 

Of course, I wasn’t stupid or naive enough to assume that just because I didn’t kill them they wouldn’t reveal my secrets, but considering the next step of my plan, anything they might reveal about me was worthless.

I never shared anything true about myself in the first place.  

The gladiators escaped, but under my orders, Nemean Lion easily prevented the nobles and their bodyguards that tried to replicate the achievement of the gladiators. 

While the beast dealt with them, I continued to walk toward Antonius. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he gasped at first, but as I continued to walk quickly — more to save time rather than actually caring about what he might do —  his confidence was quick to disappear. 

After all, he might be without morals, but he was certainly not without the necessary intelligence to understand after killing several nobles and their servants, killing him wouldn’t exactly add to it. “I can pay you. I have a lot of hidden treasures, you just need to—“ he started, only to be silenced by a stab into his stomach. 

“You’re lucky that I’m in hurry,” I whispered as I pulled back. I considered leaving him bleeding, knowing no one could save him with such a wound, but after a momentary consideration, I stabbed again, this time through his eye, not wanting to leave a determined enemy behind. 

Better safe than sorry. 

The little time I used was enough for the Nemean lion to kill the rest — though their panic and lack of formation helped the speed of his achievement. 

I gestured again, and the beast stood in front of me like an obedient horse, allowing me to climb on his back, his pride conveniently forgotten for the moment.  

“Move,” I ordered. 

It was time for me to make a memorable exit out of Rome, properly triggering the brewing chaos…