The crowd of thousands roared at the sight of the champion gladiator slaughtering his challenger. Blood spilled over the dusty gravel, and the beheaded man fell dead. His body still leaked red blood, forming puddles around were his head would have been. The putrid scent of death invigorated the crowd to yell with more strength. The tournaments so far “Champion of the Day” had a 5 person kill streak with barely obtaining any injury, and the Greeks liked this. The gladiator only had one more person to defeat, and maybe he would live another day.

The upcoming contestant was a scrawny prisoner of war from a recently conquered country. He appeared weak, for there was no longer an inch of muscle upon him. He held with him only two daggers and nothing more. No armor. No shield. The crowd was on its toes, waiting for the battle to begin.

A squat man stepped up to a podium on one of the arena’s balconies and yelled so the whole stadium would hear. “Gentlemen, now our champion Ajax will face another opponent. His name is lost for he speaks another language, but this battle will be remembered.” The crowd cheered with vigor. “Ajax and opponent, approach one another.”

Clutching his spear with bravery, he stepped forward to the meek opponent who advanced with miniscule baby steps.

“LET THE BATTLE BEGIN.” The man then turned back to his seat, and the crowd went to a dead silence to a roar of excitement. Ajax charged and beat his shield against the weak opponent. He flew back a few feet but regained his balance immediately. He then lunged at Ajax, who blocked the attack with his spear and then struck him over the head with the blunt side. The crowd cheered Ajax’s name, pounding on the stone seats with glee. Ajax roared to the sky to acknowledge his fans, and they roared back. He charged the opponent again, this time, with his spear. The spear barely missed the diving man, but Ajax, with a slight irritation, brought it back down and pierced him in the middle of his left foot.

He cried out in pain. Deep red blood poured from the gash and stained Ajax sandals. “Get up, lad!” Ajax beat him with his shield, and he rolled a few feet away, groaning with agony. Slowly, he stood up, stooped a little, and regained footing, blood still emptying from the wound. As soon as he stood up, Ajax roared with laughter and threw his metal spear at the opponent. It pierced his stomach, and he fell on the ground silently.

Instantly, the crowd stopped beating the bleachers and making noise. They peered down at the possibly unconscious body at the stadiums dirt floor. His eyes were closed, and he still shuddered with life. Ajax smirked and approached the seemingly lifeless body, covered with blood so red it stained the gravel of the ground. Ajax knelt down beside the body, and sweat started to appear on the warrior’s face. The crowd, still hushed, watched Ajax approach the contestant, like an animal that was about to slaughter its prey. He pulled the gore covered spear from his opponent’s chest, and held it up to the Gods, and roared again.

The crowd went wild, for the stadiums record had been broken. Ajax had killed 6 contestants in a row, and the record was 5. The crowd cheered and chanted Ajax’s name. He proudly put his foot on the lifeless body, held up his spear and roared.

There was the sound of steel on steel and then a piercing noise. Ajax screamed in pain and surprise. The opponent, with the slyness of a fox, had sat up instantly and stabbed both of his daggers through Ajax’s armor and slightly sliced his flesh. With brute force, he then pushed of Ajax’s foot off from his thigh and sliced and jabbed Ajax with his two metal daggers. Ajax had a stunned expression on his face, and was slowly backing up as blood exited every wound on his body, including his torso, arms, thighs, and face. The opponent had a new, fierce expression on his face as the sliced apart Ajax’s body. The crowd watched with a silenced awe.

After all of the slashing, Ajax dropped his shield and armor and stepped back with a dumbfounded expression on his face. The opponent grinned and then plunged both of his daggers into the gladiator’s forehead, removing them instantly. No more blood drew from the wounds, for it was either on the ground or the opponent. The wounds on Ajax’s opponent no longer seemed to bleed or cause pain, because he, a African from a now destroyed tribe, had conquered a Greek gladiator. Gore hung from Ajax’s destroyed dead body. The crowd remained eerily quiet, and this worried the new champion.

He glanced at the now dead Ajax, and backed away from him. He slowly walked to the middle of the arena, and scanned the crowd in a circular motion. All of their eyes were on him, this misfit prisoner of war from a small African tribe that was conquered by the Greek empire, the strongest one in the world, but somehow, this weak man had outsmarted one of the greatest gladiators of all time, and slaughtered him. The crowd continued to gawk, eyes wide with surprise. The man became scared. The whole stadium stood up, still directly looking at the African warrior. Fear ran through his veins, for there was barely enough blood to keep on circulating them. Was this his end?

But instead, the whole crowd clapped slowly, yet loudly, until the stadium was full of the ring of the noise. Soon, they began cheering, for there was a new gladiator the people admired, and he was right before them.