Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

The remaining few young people, with their gaunt faces, lowered their heads, their expressions filled with sorrow.

"So how are you doing?"

"How about it? Aren't all the noble lords in the world the same? They chain us up, whip us, force us to work, and don't even give us enough to eat. There were more than thirty of us who were sold together. They beat more than a dozen to death and starved more than ten to death. Now there are only a few of us left."

A boy, still somewhat immature, had an unquenchable resentment burning in his eyes, directed not only at the audience on stage but also at his unjust fate.

"What? You want to pity us? You can't even protect yourself! Stop talking nonsense, just kill us if you want!"

The boy's tone was anything but polite, for the gladiator before him, a ruthless killer, was the one who would carry out this tragic fate.

"puff!"

A cold glint flashed, followed by the dull thud of a sharp blade piercing flesh. The boy stiffly turned his head, staring in astonishment at the military officer who had collapsed in the passageway, spitting blood.

"you……"

"You can choose to follow me and escape Rome together. Even if you can't escape, you can still take a few nobles down with you at the cost of your lives! Or you can choose to kill me and beg these nobles on the stage to live. They might be able to let you live a few more days."

After throwing his short sword, the gladiator, who stood unarmed before the slaves, spread his arms wide, completely unguarded, and strode towards the slaves' spear tips.

However, upon seeing Spartacus approach, the slaves instantly withdrew their hands, looked up at the Roman soldiers who were closing in from all directions, and a hint of madness appeared in their eyes.

"Damn it, let's fight! We're cheap lives anyway, let's go for it!"

The blood-soaked youth spoke first, standing firmly beside the gladiator. The adults hesitated only briefly before switching sides in unison. The elders, on the other hand, skillfully picked up their shields, delivered a final blow, killing the still-breathing officer, and seized the passage. They then turned and stared intently at the gladiator king, grinning broadly.

"Now, we're on the same side."

Chapter Forty-Eight: The greatest respect for the enemy is to annihilate them completely! (4k)

"Stop those animals!"

Just as the slaves occupied the passageway, preparing to lock the winches and orderly evacuate the arena, several slave owners led a well-equipped guard into the arena through the passageway, intending to suppress the rebellion launched by these "two-legged beasts".

"Young people in front, old people and teenagers behind! Follow me closely!"

Spartacus shouted a reminder, signaling his companions behind him to maintain a stable formation.

Wielding his short sword like a wild beast unleashed from its cage, he used himself as a spearhead to cleave through shields, armor, and human bodies in the narrow passage, leaving behind a trail of severed limbs and carve a bloody path.

With a leader now in hand, the slaves stepped forward, raised their assigned weapons, and, fueled by anger and valor, finished off the Roman soldiers who lay groaning on the ground.

The sudden bloody turn of events caused the pampered noblemen and ladies in the arena to scream as they scrambled to escape the bloody slaughterhouse, making the scene even more chaotic.

Finally, after suffering several casualties, the slave squad, led by Spartacus, successfully broke through the Roman soldiers who outnumbered them several times over, closed the gates, and gained a temporary respite.

"Spartacus! Guy, Guy is dying..."

Hearing the anxious, childish call from behind, Spartacus turned around and looked back.

Beside the corpses of several Roman soldiers, a middle-aged man, stabbed multiple times in the abdomen and heart, with blood and organs gushing out, sat leaning against the wall of the passageway, a helpless, bitter smile on his face.

This is the Carthaginian veteran who was the first to jump out and support him.

During the charge, as the front-line soldier reinforcing the formation, he inevitably suffered multiple wounds and gradually succumbed to the onslaught of Roman soldiers.

After all, not everyone possesses the fighting talent of Spartacus, capable of taking on a hundred opponents single-handedly.

The dying Carthaginian tremblingly raised his blood-stained hand, his lips moving.

However, due to the severity of his injuries, the veteran's arm fell limply downwards as soon as it reached halfway up the ground.

However, before the Carthaginian could exhaust his last bit of strength, a thick, powerful arm gripped his hand tightly from bottom to top.

"What are you trying to say? I'm..."

Spartacus crouched down and leaned closer, listening intently.

The veteran moved his lips and teeth, his eyes filled with eager anticipation, his fingers gripping the other's arm very tightly.

"Please take us...home..."

"Ok!"

Spartacus nodded emphatically, but when he looked up again, he found that the old soldier's eyes had long lost their luster, and his weathered face still held unfulfilled regrets.

The Carthaginian's fingers loosened, and a bloodstained bronze plaque lay silently in Spartacus's palm.

The back of the bronze plaque is engraved with several lines of letters that look like a person's name.

Spartacus gripped the bronze medal tightly in one hand, stroked the man's cheek with the other, and closed his eyes that were gazing into the distance.

Then, the Gladiator King, covered in blood, stepped over the corpses scattered on the ground, picked up the fat man who had been shot in the leg and was curled up in the corner, and stared coldly at the face that was twisted with pain.

This is the slave owner who bought him, trained him, whipped him, and also made him successful.

"Spartacus, why? Why did you betray me!"

The fear of impending death could not suppress the slave owner's bewilderment and anger.

The man bared his teeth and barked wildly, like a hound full of grievances.

"You can enjoy the most beautiful female slaves, receive the finest food, stand in the center of the square basking in everyone's attention and cheers, and soon own your own slaves and estates, earning more money than others could spend in several lifetimes... All of this is given to you by me! All of this is given to you by Rome!"

In reality, training gladiators is a very demanding and time-consuming task, requiring a high level of investment.

Especially the gladiator king who can stand out in gladiatorial combat.

Their inherent value is enough to ensure that every game is sold out, making the organizers a fortune.

Therefore, they are not disposable items, but a money tree that continuously generates and cultivates revenue.

Therefore, the Gladiator King's life was quite good, and many of his needs were met.

He was already at the top, receiving so many preferential treatments, and could easily kill even ferocious magical beasts. Why would he refuse to deal with a group of livestock, and even risk his life to lead them in rebellion?

I cannot agree with this, I cannot understand it!

So the slave owner once again voiced his confusion and resentment.

"Why? Why would I associate with such a bunch of beasts and abandon everything I have?!"

why?

Spartacus glanced at the bronze plaque in his palm, and at the other creatures behind him, each with a head, two arms, and two legs. A sneer appeared on his resolute face, and he spoke softly.

"Because we...are human beings, not livestock!"

As he spoke, a broken Roman dagger slowly sliced ​​across the slave owner's thick, fat neck, and crimson blood gushed out like a fountain.

boom!

The slave owner clutched his severed throat, curled up on the cold floor, gasping for breath. The intense pain of being cut by the dull knife and the discomfort of blood loss almost made him faint.

Even so, his biological will to survive drove him to struggle desperately in vain, clutching Spartacus's ankle in terror, hoping that the slave he had raised could save his life.

However, the [slave] who got up didn't even bother to look down at the [master].

Spartacus put the bronze medal in his pocket, picked up a round shield, and looked past the slave owner's gradually cooling and convulsing body. He gazed at the light at the end of the tunnel, his chest heaving, and uttered a solemn murmur.

"Come on, I'll take you home!"

At that moment, the slaves, who were standing at the crossroads of fate and filled with confusion, suddenly had a burning light in their eyes upon hearing this.

Yes, it's time to go home.

In the passageway, the living laid down the dead, yet carried each other's weight, silently picking up their weapons, leaning against each other, and following the figure of the gladiator king toward the end of the passageway.

Meanwhile, in the dense forest surrounding the World Tree Castle.

Looking down at the monster firmly nailed to the cage by thousands of iron stakes, Gold, feeling ashamed of his earlier lapse in composure, kicked the iron stakes in a fit of rage, cursing angrily.

"What's so great about a wild beast that's fallen into a trap?!"

"We are human beings!"

However, the moment Gold spoke and lifted his leg, his deep and earnest defense echoed in the ears of the slightly overweight magician.

"boom!"

Immediately afterwards, the head that had been hanging down in the thicket of thorns was raised high, grinning savagely, and a thick, ferocious arm was forcibly pulled out from the dense iron stakes and slammed into the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

The people who were casting the suppression spell suddenly changed their expressions and hurriedly withdrew.

Phew, that was close!

Dozens of meters away, Gold, who had narrowly escaped death, looked at the huge pit, seven or eight meters long and several meters deep, beneath the deformed arm, and couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat, still feeling lingering fear.

"Master, step back!"

Siegfried stood in front of his Master, solemnly reminding him.

Gord glanced at the dragon slayer who had just saved him from danger, a strong sense of security welling up inside him.

"Oppressors! Oppressors! Rebellion is my life! No shackles in this world can bind a free soul!"

But before the magician, who had just survived the ordeal, could regain his composure, Spartacus, pierced by thousands of iron stakes, roared and sang as he charged through the grotesque thicket of thorns like a wild beast awakening.

It actually broke free from the restraints of my [King of Extreme Execution], unbelievable!

Just then, Vlad III, who was about to turn back to the castle, heard the roar of the wounded beast behind him and turned back in astonishment, looking at the gladiator striding into the steel jungle with disbelief.

Whether it's tearing, pain, ruptured tendons, or broken bones... even if flesh and blood are destroyed and life is ruined, no torment can stop that man from moving forward.

This is not a breakthrough in strength, but a will that has transcended the limits of the body and even surpassed the divine power of the earth spirit!

The blazing light born from his broken body in his resistance against oppression will not be extinguished until the last embers are burned out.

Whether it's a god or a monarch, as long as oppression exists, resistance will never cease!

"I absolutely do not condone the strong oppressing the weak. Can you really break through the power of the gods with the mere will of a human heart? Truly remarkable. Your rebellion reveals a noble soul, but unfortunately, I have always lacked tolerance for my enemies."

Vlad III, high above, watched the gladiator rushing towards him, pursed his lips in admiration, then slowly raised his outstretched right hand, his five fingers suddenly clenching, and let out a cold, furious roar.

"Since you're out of control, then you're just asking to die, Berserker of the Red Team!"

In an instant, accompanied by a burst of blood, thousands of thorns pierced Spartacus's muscles and joints, once again pinning the gladiator to the spot.

Frankenstein in the forest, Siegfried high above, and Chiron in the treetop, hearing the echoing voice in their ears, raised their weapons with reverence, ready to join forces to send this respectable rebel on his final journey.

Because the greatest respect you can show to your enemy is to exterminate them completely!

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

At the critical moment, three sharp sounds of air being torn apart came in a line from the dense forest.

"when!"

With lightning-fast reflexes, Chiron's pupils contracted, and he immediately raised his angle, changing his target and intercepting an arrow aimed at him from a distance.

"Pfft! Pfft!"

But Siegfried and Frankenstein, who were gathering their magic, were not so lucky. Caught off guard, they were each pierced in the shoulder by a sharp arrow and staggered backward.

"The most steadfast in this world, heed my plea..."

Seeing the sudden turn of events, Black Caster Avisbro instinctively raised his hand and began to chant, intending to perform a magical...

Technical support.

"boom!"

However, a giant sword flew out of the dense forest, slicing through dozens of giant trees, and continued its momentum toward the magician in its path, forcing Avisbro to stop chanting and dodge.

But before Black Caster could regain his footing, the figure that darted out of the dense forest pulled out the greatsword stuck in the ground and swung it at the magician.

In haste, Frankenstein slammed his giant hammer into the ground, and the flashing arcs of lightning instantly kicked up a cloud of dust, obscuring the vision of the main enemy, Archer.

With cover, Siegfried immediately stepped forward to meet the enemy Saber who had charged to the high ground. After exchanging a single blow, they both retreated, their gazes instantly turning fierce as they focused all their attention on each other.

Without a doubt, both sides are experts!

"above!"

At this moment, the centaur sage, with his keen eyesight, having escaped a close call, found a more threatening target. He shouted a warning and swiftly drew his bow, taking advantage of the brief gap when the enemy Archer fired three arrows in quick succession. He locked onto the bluish-green light and shadow that was flying and diving in mid-air and decisively released the bowstring to launch the attack.

The arrows were swift as the wind and had the force of thunder.

when!

However, the reaction on the other side was no less impressive than that of the great sage of ancient Greece. As the light and shadow dispersed, a bronze shield engraved with intricate divine patterns appeared in front of his chest, easily deflecting the arrows.

At the same time, amidst sharp whistles, three magnificent warhorses pulled a cone-shaped metal chariot, swooping down from the night sky amidst the azure waves, ravaging the battlefield with incredible speed, like a giant, rapidly moving meat grinder.

The summoned golems along the way were reduced to dust, and the artificial life forms that blocked the way in the dense forest were also turned into flying pieces of flesh.

A small world surrounding the heavens! An immortal chariot amidst raging winds and raging waves!