I've been reborn? Reborn as this gladiator named Maximus?!... Maximus realized something, but he was unwilling to believe it was true. He preferred to think it was just a dream. However, when he struggled to open his eyes, what appeared before him was a dark and cramped room—no windows, no wooden door, only uneven stone walls, a dusty dirt floor, a shabby wooden bed with a straw mattress on it... The air was filled with a sickening smell of sweat, urine, and feces. What a terrible living environment!
Even worse, his ears were filled with piercing shouts. In his vision, countless grim-faced, bare-chested strong men were clamoring and rushing toward the iron gate...
This is not a dream! ... Maximus subconsciously clenched his fist, but felt a sharp pain in his chest, where Cross had struck him. However, he had no time to attend to this: Spartacus... Cross... Gladiator School... Batiatus... Could it be that I've been reborn into the era of the Spartacus revolt in Ancient Rome? And right now is the crucial moment when Spartacus leads the gladiators in a rebellion at the Gladiator School?!
With these thoughts, Maximus realized he must follow these gladiators and escape, or else he would face the crucifixion punishment.
Maximus used his hands to support himself on the ground and struggled to stand up. His head was still a bit dizzy, and he staggered to the doorway.
Outside the door was a narrow corridor, with a few scattered torches mounted on the stone walls above on both sides. The weak and solitary torchlight cast some brightness into the dim corridor, yet the dancing shadows added to a more sinister and terrifying atmosphere.
On either side of the corridor were many parallel small rooms, similar to dogholes carved into the stone wall, barely enough space for a person to lie down. Thinking that the original owner used to live in such a terrible environment, Maximus couldn't help but shiver, resolutely deciding to escape from there.
He watched the gladiators running ahead, and stumbled after them. Gradually... his head was no longer dizzy, and his body became agile...
A barred iron gate sealed off the entire corridor ahead, with thick iron bars deeply embedded into the ground and stone wall. Its sturdiness was despair-inducing, but fortunately, the iron gate in the middle was already open. Maximus ducked through the gate and saw three bodies lying at the bottom of the steps outside, trampled into a heap of mud by countless people.
The bloody and horrific scene terrified Maximus, who came from a peaceful era, so much that he didn't dare to look again. Yet, his body didn't respond with disgust or vomiting. Yes, the original Maximus, though a mediocre gladiator, had been there for several years, fought in the arena, killed people, and witnessed bloody scenes before. It was nothing new to him...
Maximus ran up the steps, feeling his breathing invigorate as the air became fresh and the light gentle and bright. Overhead was a sky adorned with dazzling sunset clouds. However, countless gladiators were crowded in front, preventing him from moving further, while a voice kept shouting: "Brothers, give it one last push! Push away those dogs blocking us, and we will be free!..."
In the original owner's memory, after exiting the corridor and ascending the steps, one would reach the training ground—an area large enough to accommodate three hundred gladiators training together. Yet now, they were crammed at the entrance, unable to move forward.
"Brother, what's happening up ahead?" Maximus couldn't help but ask a gladiator in front.
"Batiatus's guards are blocking us—" The gladiator had just turned his head to say this when Maximus saw a black shadow flash by. The gladiator screamed and fell to the ground, with an arrow piercing his neck.
"Watch out for arrows!" Someone shouted hoarsely, causing a commotion among the crowd.
Maximus, frightened to the core, crouched down like the others, cautiously watching the oblique upper direction: On the other side of the training ground, a three-story building towered. On the second-floor balcony stood two guards holding bows and arrows, and on the third-floor balcony, a middle-aged man with a distorted face in a light gray draped robe was waving his fists and shouting loudly. This man was the Lanista of the Gladiator School—Batiatus.
Accompanied by his shouting, the guards on the balcony shot arrows again, felling two more gladiators. Meanwhile, screams erupted from the front line, indicating that the guards blocking the gladiators also wielded their short swords.
The gladiators, despite their overwhelming numbers, were unarmed, whereas the guards were fully armed. With Batiatus's consent, they struck without hesitation, continuously stabbing the gladiators attempting to crash through with their short swords, injuring and knocking them down, preventing them from forming a collective force and breaking through the defense line.
The gladiators' cries of pain rose and fell back and forth, yet they did not frighten their comrades, as their profession was to kill or be killed. Most gladiators were long inured to life and death, and their injuries and deaths only fueled their ferocity.
"Brothers, Batiatus wants to kill us! Let's fight them!"
"Charge, knock them down, I want to bite through these dogs' throats with one gulp!"
Gladiators roared like beasts, disregarding the enemies' short swords and arrows. Rear gladiators pushed against the backs of those in front, advancing one step at a time. People occasionally fell, but others continuously filled in...
The guards, continuously pushed back, exposed a gap in their shield-formed defense line.
"Hamilcar, quickly take the brothers to the kitchen to get weapons!" A deep and resonant voice drowned out all the noise, presumably Spartacus speaking.
But Maximus, from the original owner's memory, felt puzzled: Were there weapons in the kitchen?
Then he suddenly realized: The kitchen knives, forks, and cooking pots in the kitchen were weapons themselves, and the benches and wooden tables in the adjacent dining room could also be used as weapons.
Hamilcar was a lean, aged-looking gladiator. While waving his arms to signal, he was the first to dash through the gap. An arrow immediately shot toward him.
Though not the foremost gladiator ranking at this Gladiator School, Hamilcar was a seasoned veteran, having battled archers several times in team fights in the arena with rich experience. He kept his eyes on the archer on the balcony while running. At the moment the opponent drew the bowstring, he immediately performed a forward roll to make an arrow miss him, followed by a side roll to avoid another arrow...
Indeed, both archers targeted him. Unfortunately, once Hamilcar charged into the training ground, he had enough space to dodge.
As the archers were reloading, some gladiators followed into the training ground, racing toward the building where Batiatus was situated.
According to the original owner's memory, Maximus knew that the gladiators' kitchen and dining room were on the first floor of that building, though there was no direct pathway to the second and third floors.
Seeing the two archers target the gladiators running toward the dining room, Maximus didn't charge out but kept watching because he knew that breaking the current stalemate depended on those gladiators retrieving weapons.
Soon, Maximus saw Hamilcar and several others appear under the eaves after entering the ground floor kitchen. They moved swiftly, crossing two steps forward, then turning to swing their hands upwards in one fluid motion.
Then, Maximus saw one of the archers on the second-floor balcony clutch his neck and collapse, scaring the other archer to quickly crouch down and hide behind the railing.
Other gladiators also rushed out of the dining room one after another, some holding kitchen knives, some with cooking spatulas, some carrying benches, charging toward the guards still fighting fiercely at the dormitory entrance.
Among these over twenty guards, some were retired veterans, some were former gladiators who had gained freedom. Not only were they responsible for the school's safety, but some of them were also the instructors training these gladiators, possessing rich combat experience. Moreover, with helmets, breastplates, shin guards, long shields, and short swords, they were fully equipped. However, being overwhelmed by the gladiators' counter-encirclement, they were ultimately outnumbered and taken down one by one.