Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

It's that brat Achilles!

Upon recognizing the man, Chiron's expression changed drastically, as if facing a formidable enemy.

Wow!

The water rippled, the light and shadow vanished, and the steel chariot, with a beautiful drift, came to an abrupt stop between Spartacus and the Yggdrasil family, splitting the battlefield.

On the chariot, another figure sitting atop it caused the centaur sage atop the treetops to widen his pupils in shock.

It's this guy! He...

Oh...

Samael jumped out of the car, smiled and winked at the distance, and made a shushing gesture, successfully silencing his old friend.

Then, the ancient serpent walked towards the wounded beast on the battlefield, slightly extended its hand, and offered a smiling word of advice.

"How are you? Can you still walk, Spartacus? You alone can't defeat the seven Heroic Spirits of the Yggdrasil family. Come back with me first."

However, faced with Samael's friendly outstretched hand, the wounded beast on the ground slowly raised its sword, and a hearty, joyful laugh appeared on its almost distorted face.

"Perfect timing! Fascists! Claudius's family!"

laugh!

As the short sword slashed out, a chilling, eerie light swept across the sky. Samael, who was directly in the path of it, quickly took a step back, his lips twitching violently.

Damn, I forgot he also has two major titles: regent prince appointed by Romulus the patriarch and consul appointed by Nero. He's a bona fide, true Roman legitimacy...

Rome and the gladiators who led the slave revolt were sworn enemies.

Chapter 49: There's no limit to how despicable things can get! (4.5k views)

"puff!"

Just as Spartacus broke free of the iron stakes and charged toward Samael, a bluish-green arrow pierced the air and precisely struck the gladiator's shoulder.

The powerful impact ripped away large chunks of flesh from the horrific wound, and an arm flew through the air. Spartacus, staggered by the impact, swayed and fell forward.

The intense pain cooled the gladiator's boiling blood slightly, and his reason returned somewhat.

Under the moonlight, the jungle hunter, perched on a tree branch, frowned, his fingertips gripping the bowstring tightly, the cold glint of the arrow aimed at his target's brow this time.

Samael shook his head slightly, signaling Atalanta in the shadows to stop. He then stepped forward and approached the gladiator king, extending his hand once more as he pondered leisurely.

"Spartacus, if you are willing to serve me and win this Holy Grail War, in return I can restore your reason, pardon your rebellion, and let you be a truly free man, how about that?"

A faint glint of light floated between the ancient snake's fingers, rippling with a soft white glow, as if opening the gates of heaven.

"You're wrong, Roman!"

However, the gladiators, now shorter and lying prone on the ground, raised their heads high and burst into hearty laughter and shouts that shook the heavens.

"Since I stood up, I am no longer anyone's slave! I need no pardon from you! My freedom, the freedom of the oppressed, does not need the mercy of those in power, but must be fought for with the sword!"

A broken Roman dagger, held firmly aloft, points at its target. The blazing eyes do not reflect the awe of an ant looking up at a god, but the unwavering determination of a rebel conquering a perilous peak.

"Not free, I would rather die!"

Immediately, all the heroic spirits present were deeply moved upon hearing that resounding declaration.

Samael paused slightly, gazing intently at the other, his vertical pupils opening and closing, revealing intricate patterns and subtle, hidden messages that were imprinted on the gladiator's mind. He then asked again in a deep voice.

"Now that you know the consequences, are you still going to make this choice?"

gladiatorial combat

The man sensed a trace of memory remaining in his mind, paused slightly, and immediately understood what he was truly rebelling against, but his eyes became even more excited.

"Oh, you are the greatest injustice in the world!"

Cain, a brother appointed as a farmer, and Abel, appointed as a shepherd, offered their possessions as sacrifices. The Lord was pleased with the lambs but indifferent to the crops. Why did they receive such drastically different responses when both were calling upon to serve?

As nations, the two rivers are fertile, China is rich in resources, the Mediterranean is vast, and Northern Europe is fierce...

Once, glory belonged to Greece, and greatness to Rome.

A thousand years later, enlightenment returned to the West, and antiquity returned to the East.

Why are the Thracians so obscure?

Why do the poor get poorer and the rich get richer? Why are we born into different social classes, noble and lowly? Why is oppression the only thing we see?

If a true god exists in this world, then the gods who rule the world are the greatest injustice in this world!

The God above all gods is destiny!

Perhaps nothing could excite him more than defying fate and rebelling against a true god.

No, that's not it...

Joan of Arc, watching Spartacus raise his rebellious banner in the distance, gripped her battle flag tightly, instinctively shaking her head, wanting to speak but unsure where to begin.

"Very good! Since that's what you think..."

The ancient serpent saw the blazing flames burning in the gladiator's eyes and was infected by the pure and unadulterated smile on his face. He then raised the corners of his lips and laughed loudly.

"Then I permit your overstepping, I accept your rebellion, take up your sword, Thracian!"

"Oh! Rome! Gods! It is time to rebel! With this sword I will offer you my utmost respect and contempt!"

Spartacus cheered with delight, his thick, deformed arms gripping the nicked Roman dagger as he strode forward.

Or perhaps, it can no longer be called "steps".

Because, after several fierce battles, the gladiator's legs were broken, and the torn flesh and blood were pieced back together to form a deformed mass called "legs".

At this moment, Spartacus, with his bloated and ugly limbs, was marching toward the god before him.

"Whoosh whoosh!"

However, as soon as the gladiator embarked on his journey, hundreds of magic circles appeared in the night sky above his head, and arrows of light rained down like rain.

"Puff puff!"

In an instant, Spartacus, whose limbs were deformed and whose movement was difficult, was covered by a rain of arrows falling from the sky, and his body was riddled with arrows.

But after a brief pause, the light arrow formed by the convergence of magic faded and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Furthermore, the gruesome wounds covering Spartacus's body were quickly filled by writhing flesh, forming new cysts.

"Hahaha! This is so much fun!"

The gladiator, whose size had increased once more, charged toward the oppressive figure ahead with a joyful laugh.

Just as Atalanta, perched atop the treetop, was about to draw her bow and fire to halt the grotesque monster's advance, a pink-haired girl with heterochromatic eyes, wearing a white gauze dress, sporting metallic horns on her head, adorned with numerous metal accessories, and wielding a giant hammer, arrived, drawn by the sound.

Like a large dog, it ran swiftly through the forest, growling as it brandished its weapon, summoning flashing arcs of lightning, and slammed it down on the tree where the hunter was.

Damn!

Forced to relocate after being blocked, Atalanta gritted her teeth and jumped away from the area covered by the lightning arc.

Boom!

Instantly, the giant tree struck by lightning crashed down, and the pink-haired girl with heterochromatic eyes, dressed in a white gauze dress, continued to relentlessly charge towards Atalanta's next foothold, following the instructions in her mind and clinging tightly to the female hunter in front of her.

Is this... the enemy's Berserker?

Atalanta's gaze fell upon a figure charging through the woods, struck by several arrows yet showing no sign of pain, growing ever more ferocious. Atalanta was momentarily at a loss.

Berserker Black Frankenstein is an artificial life form created by the genius alchemist Victor Frankenstein.

Since ancient times, "eternity" and "creation" have been the divine realms that alchemists have always wanted to attain.

Throughout the long process of research and development, in contrast to the theme of "eternity," there have been a series of achievements such as the "Philosopher's Stone."

In the realm of "creation," the most outstanding achievement is naturally the act of acting on behalf of God to create an artificial life form that is as perfect as or even more perfect than humans, namely "Adam the Primordial Man."

Viktor Frankenstein was one of the pursuers of the second achievement.

However, unlike others, this scholar was a PhD who studied modern science before becoming an alchemist.

It was precisely his interest in "creation" that led him, by chance, into the field of alchemy, where he ingeniously combined the mystical and the scientific to create a design for an "ideal human being" that conformed to biological principles.

The alchemists' true pursuit in the realm of "creation" was to create "original humans" Adam and Eve, just like God.

According to academic records, man was created by God from clay in his own image.

Women are created from men's ribs; they are the bone of his bones and the flesh of his flesh.

In theory, the far-fetched idea of ​​directly creating "Adam the Primordial Man" is extremely difficult.

Therefore, contrary to the Bible, the highly innovative Dr. Frankenstein conceived of creating Eve first, and then having Eve give birth to children.

The "Adam the Primordial Man" project.

This kind of attempt, starting with the easy and gradually moving to the difficult, can't compare to God's great deeds, but it's perfect for me, a self-taught alchemist.

Even so, Dr. Frankenstein spent two years experimenting with corpses and machines, but what he created was a doll that couldn't even cry.

Unable to control or connect her various emotions, she brutally murdered wild dogs without hesitation, offering their entrails as gifts. This ferocious behavior terrified Viktor, who eventually abandoned his "daughter," leaving behind only the surname Frankenstein.

However, the abandoned artificial life form also developed intelligence and emotions, and finally developed feelings of anger towards Viktor who abandoned her. In a fit of rage, she killed the doctor's family and chased her creator all the way to Antarctica, hoping that the other party would create a companion to accompany her.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, Viktor, driven by grief, anger, and fear, ultimately chose death.

With nowhere to go, the artificial life form, lost in confusion and grief, embraced the body of its "father" and threw itself into the fire.

Now, due to the twists and turns of the Holy Grail War, the magicians of the Yggdrasil family found the blueprint for the "Perfect Human" in the magic workshop left behind by Dr. Frankenstein, and used it as a medium to summon the legendary Frankenstein monster.

It must be said that Dr. Frankenstein's pioneering attempts, as an eccentric genius straddling the scientific and mystical worlds, do indeed have remarkable merits.

This single move, the Chaotic Cloak Hammer Technique, made it difficult for Atalanta, who was at close range, to break free for a while.

"Achilles, what are you dawdling for?! Go and help!"

In a moment of desperation, the female hunter frowned and couldn't help but remind her other companion.

"Boss, I can't get away from here either!"

At that moment, Achilles, who was hiding behind a broken golem on the battlefield, was shot by an arrow as fast as lightning the moment he peeked out. He could only whine and shrink back to explain, while glancing at a centaur sage on the city wall and cursing inwardly.

Teacher Ma, you have no sportsmanship. With so many targets, why did you choose to shoot me?

So, you think you're the only one who can bully me on the whole battlefield?

It must be said that the bond between master and disciple is unbreakable.

Chiron, standing at a commanding height, certainly thought so too.

The Red team only sent five people in total. One of my petty and mischievous friends is still clueless about the situation, so there's no need to say more.

Atalanta was an old acquaintance from several wars of the gods, and a member of the Argonaut Expedition. Everyone who could board that ship was a ruthless individual. Even if you didn't respect them, you would still respect them. Their combined power was something he couldn't afford to offend.

Moreover, this huntress was secretly having an affair with someone.

The red Saber, who is currently engaged in a fierce battle with Siegfried the dragon slayer in the forest, seems to be quite familiar with that guy.

As for Spartacus, who had been ganged up on on the field, he was a good target.

However, this gladiator seemed to have a tendency to defect, and his arrow was likely the work of a traitor.

Regardless of what Danic is like, at least his Master has been good to him.

He would never smash his rice bowl after finishing his meal.

After thinking it over, the only one I found pleasing to the eye was that guy with the wildly spiky green hair on the field.

In any case, it's perfectly justified for teachers to beat students, especially under the guise of "testing teaching skills."

While Chiron was lost in thought, he drew his bowstring, offering his teacher's "care" to one of his good students.

Similarly, Achilles on the battlefield accepted the arrows with trepidation, facing each incoming arrow as if facing a formidable enemy.

Even though many of those arrows couldn't even penetrate his armor...

The master and apprentice exchanged a glance and nodded silently in unison, as if they understood each other perfectly. Out of the corner of their eyes, they would always glance at someone standing on the battlefield, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

These two bastards, can't you be any more blatant about slacking off?

Samael glanced at the master and apprentice who had been fighting for a long time but hadn't even lost many weapons, rolled his eyes inwardly, ignored the aggressive gladiator, and looked up at the shadow that covered the sky.

"By Command Spell, Berserker, calm down and give up the fight!"

Meanwhile, in the Sky Garden, an elderly magician raised his arm, which was engraved with bright red runes, and recited commands three times in succession to the berserk servant.

However, even after exhausting all three Command Seals, the old magician not only failed to control Spartacus's outburst, but instead made him even more excited.