To be burned, to be bound, to be beaten and to lay for an eternal rest beneath the sword.

But the most important thing was to obey their master's will without question.

That was the foundation of what a gladiator lived for. With that, the flames of rebellion were ignited.

It started small, as a group of escaped gladiators decided to stop fighting for others in their yearning for freedom. For that, they decided to do it the way they knew best, by carving the path with their blade.

When the news hit Rome, the senate was too busy handling the war in Spain and the Pontic Empire to spare a thought to a bunch of unruly slaves expressing their frustration. They weren't concerned and sent around 3000 Roman soldiers to the rebels' refuge at Mount Vesuvius, blocking the only passage up the mountain. Their objective was to stall for time and wait until the rebels die of starvation.

Unfortunately for Rome, the one who led the rebellion was none other than Thrax, or Spartacus, as the Romans called him.

In the middle of the night, when the guards were divided into shifts for night watch, guarding the mountain and sleeping, Thrax bravely jumped down the mountain and slaughtered the Romans' barely guarded camp. The sudden attack incited utter chaos and it was worsened when dozens of gladiators charged down the hill, killing off all the 3000 men.

From that daring stunt, the legend of Rome's defiant gladiator began.

The news about the rebels started to spread and slowly, but surely, escaped slaves, deserting soldiers and hungry peasants flocked in to support their cause. Many started off untrained, but after months, Thrax was quickly able to transform them into an army of tens of thousands.

With their increased numbers, and the coming of cold winter, Thrax decided to led the rebels into decisive moves

One afternoon, when the sun had almost fully dipped beyond the horizon, a man was seen walking into the gate of a city called Sinuessa.

Dozens of fully armed Roman guards could be seen atop the walls and dozens more manning the gates.

"Halt! State your business!"

The man looked at the guard standing in front of him and muttered.

"I came for all the pleasure your city has to offer."

The guard offered his hand, a gesture to ask for coins.

"My apology, but I have no coin to offer"

"Then, turn away from the fucking gate!" The guard said and spat onto the man's feet.

If the man was enraged, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he merely gave the man a smile. "Like I said I came for the pleasure… for killing roman…!"

Splatt!

The next second, the guard's outstretched arm was cut off. The arm fell onto the ground with a sickening squelch, but before the man could scream, his head was cut with another clean swing to the neck.

His body fell onto the ground, splattering blood and guts all over the walls and his head rolled away towards the middle of the door. The guards were instantly alarmed, and the screams of citizens standing near the gate filled the place.

"Intruders!"

In response to the call, a group of Roman soldiers quickly gathered and surrounded him with a row of shields.

"You dare create trouble in a Roman city and kill Roman guards?! Capture him!"

The man did not panic at all. With a calm expression, he raised his blood-soaked sword and fought against each one of the guards who broke out of the formation.

Splat! Splat!

Each of his slashes were done with such precision and every time the glint of his sword reflected the sunlight, another soldier fell to be trampled beneath his feet.

One of the guards stationed above the gate threw a javelin spear at him, but the man blocked and captured it easily.

"Now finally, a spear!"

With the spear in hand, the man's attacks became even fiercer than before. Now the guards could not even begin to read his movements and they died before their weapons were close enough to even attempt a strike.

The guards on the wall nocked their bow and arrows, but at the same time horn echoed by their own. They turned and saw a sea of men from the hill rushing towards the city.

"We are under attack!" One of the guards standing atop the gate announced. "Close the gate! Sound the alarm! Hurry!"

The rope holding the gates was quickly cut, destroying the mechanism and letting the massive wooden door fall free. However, the man had just finished killing the soldiers all around him and he charged towards the gate and held it with one arm.

Seeing the scene in front of them, the guards could only stare in bewilderment. A few soldiers tried to rush towards him, but even with just one hand, the man was able to kill the oncoming attackers.

The man's terrifying strength and the incoming attacks quickly made the guards know who they are fighting with "Spartacus! He is Spartacus!"

All the guards tremble as they saw trained gladiators and rebels finally have arrived and rushed in through the gate.

By this time, more roman soldiers have come gathered trying to stop them, but they stand no chance against such force. The gates quickly fall and the rebels flood in the city.

Sounds of clashing steel followed the footsteps of the crowds, mingled with screams of terror echoing within the walls of Sinuessa. Everyone who tried to resist were dragged into the streets and were made to taste first-hand the sharp edge of their blades.

Within hours the city has finally fallen.

No one could ever predict that a band of disorganized rebels like them would be able to take over a Roman city, much one as big as Sinuessa.

Crimson filled the streets and houses, screams of anguish coupled with broken tears echo the end of a slaughter. The distinct smell of blood started to spread following the darkness of the night.

Thrax walks towards the city center, with his body soaked with blood and sword still dripping with it. Seen their leader's arrival, the men start chanting his name.

Spartacus!! Spartacus!! Spartacus!!

At this moment of glory, Thrax realized the corpses that filled the streets.

These rebels had specifically been ordered not to kill women and children, but in such chaotic moments, swords had no eyes. As he continues his path, he witnessed everything, from terror to tears of joy and glassy eyes from lifeless corpses.

In his contemplation, he saw a familiar figure standing in front of him. A roman dared to stand among the sea of rebels with anger looking toward him.

The man was not other than Julian.