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"Rome has grown since its humble beginnings that it is now overwhelmed by its own greatness."

-

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[descriptions of injuries, violence]

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The booming blast of a nearby horn spurred both fighters into a violent force of motion. George sunk back into his seat, watching the two men begin their descent into a merciless, ruthless fight.

"You do remember the deal, right?" Karl asked, flinching as he watched The Blood God take a dramatic swing at Nightmare, who managed to dodge it.

"The winner is my new body guard," George bit down on his fist, anxiety creeping through his body as he saw Nightmare leap through the air, slashing at The Blood God. "And we both know who that's doing to be."

Karl shrugged. "The Blood God is the best in Gaul."

"Well, Nightmare is the best in Italia."

Karl chuckled. "Well, let's see what sexy man you get to bring home, ay?"

George scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly as he drew his vision back onto the two men, who were still engaged in vicious combat.

Nightmare lunged for The Blood God, who fell back onto the sand. The pair grappled for a moment, before The Blood God got the upper hand, kicking the masked gladiator off of him. He then jumped to his feet, hoisting his axe off of the ground and forcing it down with all his might.

George gasped as Nightmare was barely able to roll away; his moving body throwing out a sprinkling of tanned sand. He propelled himself off of the ground and, using his shield, blocked another potentially fatal blow from The Blood God.

With his opponents axe lodged into his shield, the masked gladiator unstrapped it from his arm and flung it across the arena, causing The Blood God to stumble forward. Nightmare then reeled back, slicing a thick gash over The Blood God's ribs.

The crowd cheered, yelling at the two men who sneered at each other. Behind his mask, Dream was clenching his jaw in exhausted anger. Before long, The Blood God had regained possession of his axe and, with a swing as thunderous as the clouds brewing overhead, he chopped.

Nightmare stuck his sword up just in time to catch the glimmering blade of the axe, in which he saw his reflection in its polished surface. It was only inches from his face and the masked gladiator was struggling; shaking and straining under the weight of his opponent.

Suddenly, and with an expert flick of his weapon, The Blood God hooked his axe underneath Nightmares sword, and sent it flying. It landed in the sand at the edge of the arena, and a portion of the audience whistled and shouted in approval.

Nightmare swallowed, the cold edge of his opponents axe pressing firmly to his exposed throat.

"Yield." The Blood God ordered simply, gripping his axe with one strong hand, veins protruding up his arm.

The two gladiators locked eyes, with the chaotic symphony that was the crowd fading into the darkness. The sky above them was no longer abloom with the galactic mosaic of stars. Now, it was swimming in the flashing grey face of a thunder storm; of lightning and thunder.

The silhouette of The Blood God looking down at Nightmare was illuminated by a flash of white light, followed closely by a deafening clap of thunder.

"I said yield," The Blood God yelled over the cacophonous sound of the crowd and the sky. "I do not want to have to kill you today."

An icy drop of rain hit Nightmares mask. The gladiator, previously undefeated, weighed out his options. He grinned cockily beneath the mask.

He wasn't going to yield.

"You won't have to kill me," Nightmare said calmly. "Because I'm going to kill you first."

The clouds above them opened and then came the rain. As their bodies became drenched in water, Nightmare swung his right leg hard to the side, hitting The Blood Gods. He tumbled, losing his footing as Nightmare added insult to injury by snatching his axe from his opponents slackening grip.

The Blood God rolled across the quickly dampening ground, but easily recovered, springing quickly to his feet, supported by the screaming crowd. Their yells and cheers echoed through Nightmares mind as, using the axe he had stole, he lunged forward.

Swinging animalistically, Nightmare advanced on his opponent with bloodthirsty slashes. The axe swooshed through the air, with The Blood God managing to dodge the blows, or deflect them using his armour.

By this stage, the crowd was waiting with bated breath beneath leather umbraculum as The Blood God was backed towards the edge of the arena. His wet pink hair flayed wildly as he whipped back and forth with inhuman agility. Craftily, The Blood God allowed his opponent to back him against the far wall, where he then dived along the ground, scooping up Nightmares abandoned sword.

Nightmare cursed as his swings were blocked with a loud, metallic clang. The Blood God smiled, a sinister flash of teeth, as he strained his weight against the sword in his hands. The two men were now locked together, hands holding blades that didn't belong to them, pressing together with as much fury as the gods would grant. They were both dripping wet like feral dogs caught out in the rain.

"Just kill him already!" Nightmare heard a small voice call through the pitched ringing of the crowd in his ears. The shout had come from a small child on the edge of the arena, gripping the railing with anticipation, eyes locked on the tense exchange.

I can't let my fans down, Nightmare thought cockily as he simply kicked his foot out again. This time, it collided with The Blood Gods ankle, causing the boar-like man to crumple and, for the second time that night, Nightmares sword was sent flipping.

Huffing and spitting through the rain, The Blood God readied himself to launch back into offence, but Nightmare stopped him, using his opponents own axe to threaten him.

"I think it's time for you to yield." Nightmare prodded The Blood Gods Adams apple with the blade of the axe.

The Blood God scowled, fingers itching to grab the sword. Nightmare noticed this, and kicked the blade away.

The Blood God narrowed his eyes at the irksome actions of the man standing before him and opened his mouth to say something.

"I will not yield to a man who hides his face behind a plate."

With that, and using as much strength as he could muster, The Blood God sandwiched the blade of his own axe between the palms of his hands. He then tucked his knees to his chest, moving his legs to propel upwards, slamming his feet into Nightmare's lower stomach.

The force of the kick caused the masked gladiator to stumble back in the wet sand; the granules sticking to his feet, weighing him further into the earth. His grip on the axe was no match for the brute strength of The Blood God, who yanked the axe towards himself, rolling backwards and leaping to his feet.

Lunging, The Blood God took advantage of his opponents confused state and took a splenetic swing. The blade sliced along the masked gladiators arm, opening the skin and letting forth a gush of hot blood. Nightmare yelled in pain and, upon a sharp hit to his head by the blunt end of his opponents axe, he fell to the ground once more.

The Blood God showed no emotion; he gave Nightmare no sly comment, no whispered threat. He merely stood tall, a foot pressed into Nightmare's chest.

Then, the emperor got to his feet, allowing a hush to befall amongst the crowd.

"Does Nightmare, reigning gladiatorial victor of Italia, deserve mercy from Gaul's greatest?" He asked rhetorically into the crowd, for he already knew the answer.

Puffing and bleeding, Nightmare frowned in doubtful, but thankful realisation as the emperor thrust forth a thumbs up, symboling that both gladiators shall live another day.

"I suppose the formidable Nightmare has finally met his match," Karl remarked as he observed The Blood God offer a hand of assistance to his grounded opponent. "You must be devastated."

"What? I'm not dev—" George caught himself, walking away from the edge of the box, eyes examining the two gladiators as they walked off side by side.

Nightmare was limping, blood cascading freely down his left arm, and The Blood God teetered to his right side, nursing a gash in his ribs. The pair of battered warriors were swallowed by the darkness as they entered the 'backstage' of the arena, and George sighed.

"Disappointed?"

"What?" George turned to his friend.

"Are you disappointed?" Karl repeated. "That Nightmare will not be tending to your every need."

George groaned. "No! I—Shut up, Karl."

Karl raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Also, don't think I didn't notice how you admired the second round of gladiators." George quipped, triumphantly ignoring Karl's shocked expression.

"What are you talking about?"

"The second fight. Sapnap against The Warden," George cast his eyes over the arena, which's stands were slowly emptying. "The victor definitely captured your attention."

"I was merely surprised, as all." Karl muttered.

George replied with a harsh laugh. "Sure... if being surprised involved salivating over the exposed abdomen of—"

"Shut up," Karl hissed, sinking further into his chair as a scarlet blush sank further into his cheeks. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

George hummed, hiding a smirk. "Well, Sapnap was very attractive. Maybe I'll ask—"

"Oh, frick off!" Karl exclaimed embarrassingly. "I was looking at him! Are you happy now?"

George chuckled. "Extremely."

Karl folded his arms over his chest begrudgingly. "At least now both of us have a slight admiration for a certain pair of fighters."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, domine."

—•—

Cool rain had set in for the night by the time George had dropped Karl home at his nearby residence. Arriving at his own villa, the Emperor gladly kicked off his sandals, summoning a nearby servant.

"Yes, Emperor?"

"May you please have a goblet of wine delivered to my quarters," George asked politely. "I want to relax on my own tonight."

The servant bowed, obeying the Emperors request with utmost diligence. He scurried away, allowing George to traverse the empty halls of his villa alone, with his only company being the pattering of raindrops on the roof.

Ten minutes later, George was laying lax in his bed, reclining under the soft, silk sheets of his large bed. He basked in the warmth radiating from the open fire place on the other side of the room, and he sipped his wine while listening to the peaceful song of the rain.

An hour later, there was a knock at his door.

"Come in." George called, placing the now empty goblet onto a table beside his bed.

Tentatively, his door was pushed open, and the servant from earlier crept in.

"I'm sorry to intrude, Emperor," the servant bowed, hands clasped behind his back. "But you have visitors waiting for you in the parlour."

"Visitors?" George clambered out of bed. "At this time?"

The servant nodded, averting his eyes respectfully as George wrapped himself in a shawl, and followed him out of his quarters. George's bare feet were braced by the cool marble floors of his home, and an involuntary shiver raced along his spine.

The servant opened the door to the parlour, bowing again before scampering away, leaving as quietly as a dormouse.

The dagger that George had strapped to his upper thigh was a reassuring presence as he caught sight of a shadowed figure.

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Hey homies, this is an authors note!

Take the L, Dre

I wrote this whole chapter listening to Nirvana's Nevermind and you best believe that shit made me type hella fast 🏃‍♀️💨

Here's another chapter lol. Now I'm gonna actually have to do school work 😭

Until next time,

Blue :)