He slashed at the man’s trachea with his two-handed blade, and the metal ripped through the tan skin like a knife piercing a peach, the juices running down the skin.

As the man fell behind him, the soldier pounced at two more of the men in the arena, and the crowd screamed their approval. The blood lust invaded his mind, and his head pulsed as he cracked open one man’s nose with his elbow before stabbing the second through the abdomen, his intestines spilling out in a fountain of blood. He spun on his heel, planting his feet in the packed dirt as he dealt one last blow at the man with the broken nose, his life extinguished for the pleasure of the crowd. His body fell with a thud on top of his companion.

But everyone’s attention was already focused on the two fighters left in the arena. On one side of the carnage stood the soldier, his arms slick with blood. On the other stood a fit slave, two dark red daggers in his hands.

They began to circle the pile of dead bodies in the center, and the crowd cheered…