“Get him!” one shouted.
“Kill him!” another egged.
To Lucianus, the most frightful thing at the colosseum was the cruelty of the crowd that saw a person’s death as a form of entertainment. At home, these people would be good fathers, wives, or sons, but the moment they set foot in the colosseum to view a match, they transformed into despots who relished the sight of blood and heartless murder.
As the victor of this match, it was only natural for Dominatus to provide the audience with the stimulation that they were yearning for. Lucianus looked away, unwilling to watch a helpless man get killed in cold blood, when he heard the crowd start to murmur in confusion. Perplexed, Lucianus gazed back at the arena and was met with an unusual sight.
Dominatus’s blade hadn’t pierced Mauro’s body; it was instead stuck in the ground. The victor stood and offered a hand to help Mauro to his feet. Dominatus then placed his left hand on his opponent’s shoulder as though to commend this splendid battle, and raised his right hand gripping the sword high in the air.
In response to Dominatus’s decision, the audience erupted into thunderous applause. Some people may have grumbled a complaint or two, but they had been completely drowned out by the passionate cheers. Normally, the host of these battles had the right to determine if the loser of the battle would live or die. Since the emperor was hosting, only he could make that decision—Dominatus had no right to do so.
Azerius stood up from his seat in the balcony and stepped forward, causing the crowd to fall silent. He glanced at Dominatus and Mauro, who were kneeling in front of him, then offered a round of applause. Mauro had escaped death, and the audience burst into excitement once more. Perhaps it was only natural for Mauro to be spared, for he fought bravely, but this must’ve been a boring turn of events for Azerius. To decide the fate of the loser of a match was the climax, gathering the attention of the people, but Dominatus had stolen this highlight away. The emperor must’ve been suppressing his rage as he showered the gladiators with applause, and Dominatus gave a respectful bow.
A boy stepped forward, offering a laurel wreath, the symbol of triumph, to Dominatus, along with a huge platter of gold coins and other offerings. When Dominatus accepted the wreath, the crowd gave another round of applause. Many were chanting his name. Only the victor was allowed to leave the arena via the front arch, and Dominatus confidently marched forward like a king who ruled the place.
Suddenly, he stopped in front of the arch and gazed up at the audience, toward the nobles’ seats. Did he… Lucianus’s hunch was soon proven correct when Dominatus spotted the noble, removed his galea, and gave a wave. It was clear that the gladiator smiled at Lucianus.
“Oh my,” Juliana said. “Dominatus is usually very unfriendly, and it’s unusual for him to act like that. Is there perhaps a lady he likes in the audience?”
As she glanced around curiously, Lucianus, who sat beside her, felt his cheeks grow warm.