"LUCIUS SEPTIMIUS!!!"
The herald's voice thundered across the Colosseum, and in that instant the entire arena seemed to shake with the roar of the crowd. The cheers swelled, rising like a wave, louder than anything that had echoed through those ancient walls in recent memory.
Not even Spartacus, whose name still lingered in whispered legends among the common people, had received such a deafening welcome.
Nathan—hidden beneath the guise of Septimius—paused for a moment as he stepped into the blinding sunlight at the heart of the arena. The noise washed over him, a sea of voices chanting, crying, demanding his glory.
He felt it pressing against his chest, stealing the air from his lungs. Inwardly, he was taken aback.
I wasn't aware I had become so famous…
