The second day of the gladiator tournament dawned beneath a blazing sun, the air heavy with heat and anticipation. From the moment the gates of the Colosseum creaked open, streams of spectators poured in from every street, flooding the stands until they were an undulating sea of eager faces. Today, the stakes were higher—only four groups of a hundred gladiators remained, and each would fight in turn until a mere ten emerged from the blood-soaked sand.
The roar of the crowd was louder than the day before, a living thing that pulsed through the stone walls and rattled the air. Merchants shouted from the passageways, selling wine, figs, and roasted meat; slaves darted between rows of seats, carrying platters to the more affluent guests. The smell of dust, sweat, and hot metal mingled with the fragrance of perfumes drifting down from the wealthy patrons seated in the upper tiers.
