The second day was much like the first. From sunrise to sunset, the bodies continued to pile on one another like the spoils of a freshly harvested crop. Bodies were moved and placed in piles to be dealt with later and the fighting resumed only for more bodies to be heaped upon one another. We gained some ground on the second day, but it had cost us a great deal of manpower. Even if we won the battle, if the death toll continued as it had for those past two days, then it would take too long for our numbers to replenish. If we won, and yet our enemies were more numerous than us, then who was to say that they would keep their word?

  What would prevent them from stabbing us in the back and slaughtering us down to the last man? An Aquillus victory was no victory at all. If my forces were to prevail in a way that truly mattered, I would need to risk my life more than I had ever before. I had discussed my plan with my commanders. Octavian was outraged and slammed his fist on the war table during the late hours of the second day.

  “Kai’Sar! You can not risk it! If we lose you, then everything that we’ve achieved would all be wasted. Send me in your stead, my lord!”

  I snapped my gaze at Octavian and shouted. “No!” I raised my hand towards him in a halt motion before I walked over to sit on my makeshift throne. “It won’t work. Not with you. He’d refuse you in a heartbeat. He won’t refuse me. These last couple of days have all been focused on me. I see now that there was never really any other outcome.”

  Kallista was quiet. She kept her eyes on the floor while she leaned on a support beam for the tent. Her arms were crossed and she had new, fresh bandages on her body woven tightly around her. Brutus chimed in.

  “I’d hate to say it, but Hadrian is right. The bull won’t accept anything less than Hadrian himself. Why do you think I’m not the one begging to take his place?”

  “This is madness.” Octavian grumbled under his breath.

  “Perhaps.” I said quite simply as I stroked my chin. “But it's our best bet. Trust me. This is for the best.”

  With a defeated sigh, Octavian relented. “Very well, my lord. This is a foolish endevor, but I will abide by your commands.”

  “Very good. And should the worst happen, Octavian, I know that you will do what is best for the legion.”

  He nodded. Most of us were in agreement, with Kallista abstaining from speaking. I stood up and sighed.

  “It's decided then. There will be no turning back for me.”

  I bidded everyone a good night —not that it would be easy— and left the war tent. Just as I was halfway to my tent, Kallista called out my name. I turned to face her. She had an uncertain look about her face. She stepped forward tentatively.

  “So you are really going to go through with it then?”

  “What choice do I have?” I spoke plainly. “It would save many more lives. Too many had been lost.”

  “That is what we do, Hadrian. We fight and die by your command. Kings live on while soldiers die.”

  “Too many have died for my account, Kallista. There is no sense in it. If everyone dies tomorrow then there will not be enough to defend ourselves from treachery. And even if they keep their word, we would barely have enough to protect ourselves. We’d have to withdraw with Straden completely and sacrifice all of the villages that bent the knee to us.”

  “I know this. I am no fool. I am just…uneased by this.”

  “As is everyone still living here. I do this for their sake as well.”

  She stepped closer toward me. She placed her hand on my forearm and cleared her throat. I could see a look of concern grace her eyes. I nodded and responded in kind, placing my hand atop hers.

  “Kallista…” I uttered her voice. In that moment it trickled down on my tongue as sweet as honey. “If you were to return to Cora…leave here before things become too bloody, not a soul would blame you. Not even myself.” I was by no means calling her a coward or anything like that. Far from it. Sometimes fighting to the death was not the smart option, and sometimes it was. If she didn’t want to be there, then that was the perfect time to leave.

  “No, Hadrian. I can’t leave. You do whatever you think is best. I will stand behind you no matter what. Just…” She trailed off for a moment. She bit her lip and then spoke again. “Just don’t get yourself killed.”

  “I will try.” I could make no promises on that, but it was a start. I rested my hand on hers and just stood there for a moment. But I couldn’t stay there forever. I parted ways with Kallista and ventured to my tent.

  When I arrived at my tent, I could hear shouting. An argument went on. I didn’t need to guess who it was. It was Artesh and Abessa. I listened in to what they were saying; having not yet alerted them to my presence.

  “We need to leave, mother. This place; this war of his will get you killed!”

  “Artesh, we can’t. If I leave, Hadrian will hunt you down and kill you.”

  Artesh scoffed and shook his head. “As if that's all you care about anymore.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know exactly what I am talking about, mother! Don’t think I haven’t heard you. The entire camp has probably heard you and that animal rutting like beasts. I have ears!”

  “Artesh…” she trailed off. As much as she might try to deny it, she enjoyed our time together. At first it may have only been about protecting her son, but now there was something more.

  “Don’t try to deny it.” He continued. “I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think I’m not there or otherwise not looking. Father’s body wasn’t even cold yet and you practically threw yourself at him! And now look at you! You have that…that thing!” He pointed to her pregnant belly. Instinctively she placed her protective hands around her stomach and looked at Artesh with tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Artesh, this is your sibling-”

  “No! It's not!” he practically screamed at her. “It's his bastard! His Whorespawn! That thing is the very symbol of your betrayal.”

  “Enough! Artesh please. We can make this work. I know you miss your father. I do too. But-”

  “If you did, you wouldn’t be sleeping with his murderer! He was ten times greater than the one you’ve whored yourself out to!”

  At that, I stepped inside and announced myself with my own comment.

  “Ten times, you say? Then why is he dead and not in my place?”

  Both Abessa and Artesh were startled. Abessa quickly moved herself in front of Artesh to defend him.

  “M-My lord Hadrian. Forgive my son. It’s all the constant fighting. It's driving everyone mad.”

  “Mad?!” Artesh yelled and moved Abessa out of his way. “I’ll tell you what’s mad. He is. He thinks he is bringing order, but all he does is bring death! Everywhere we go, it's either bend the knee or die! He takes what he wants and once he has it, he won’t ever let it go.”

  I stood my ground. I crossed my arms behind my back.

  “If you are talking about your mother, then speak to her about leaving. If she wills it, she can go freely with you. I prefer my concubines to be happy. When they are happy, I am happy. So. Abessa. What do you wish to do?

  Abessa’s mind scattered about in many places. She bit her lip and thought about all of the possibilities it meant. I was truthful. If Abessa wished to leave, she would do so without feeling my wrath. She earned that much. If she believed that I would kill Artesh if they left, then that was entirely on her. Part of me actually wanted her to leave with her son. If only so that she would be safe.

  She looked at Artesh and then myself before looking down at her belly. She pet her stomach and closed her eyes. She then stepped over beside me and looked at Artesh.

  “Artesh, We need to stay here where we have protection. I carry Hadrian’s child. There is no better safety than that.”

  Artesh threw his hands in the air and stepped closer. “Unbelievable! You would choose to die here with him rather than escape with your own flesh and blood! You two disgust me. Very well, mother. If you wish to die here with my father’s killer, then so be it.” He started to leave.

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  Abessa grabbed my arm and looked up at me. “My lord, please, stop him!” What else could a mother do but worry for her son?

  I sighed through my nose. “If he wishes to die out there in the wilderness then so be it. If the boy thinks himself a man, then he will find out the hard way that it is folly.”

  Something inside Artesh must have snapped. Immediately he stopped right where he was and his fist tightened. The young boy turned to face me. The whites of his eyes burnt bright red with anger. He grit his teeth as rage began to build in him.

  “I am more of a man than you will ever be!!!” Suddenly he swung his fist right at me and caught me off guard. He punched me square in the jaw and managed to turn my head to the side. However, he didn’t knock me over. I stood my ground and turned my face back to his. My jaw was sore. I reached up to make sure nothing was broken. Abessa stood there with her hands over her mouth, while Artesh still definitely looked at me. I had to admit, I was proud of the boy. He had proven himself to be a man of strong conviction.

  “I see. Now I can say without any regrets…” I rubbed my jaw and then tilted my head, bushing his hand aside. “That I was provoked.”

  With that, I threw my own punch. I hadn’t flinched when he hit me, but when I punched him, I showed him the truth of my strength. He was knocked to the ground, fresh blood pouring out of his mouth as Abessa screamed. Before Artesh could recover I punched him with my other hand. I grabbed his throat and raised him in the air before I slammed his body on the ground.

  Yet, just as I was ready to punch him a final time, Abessa got in my way. I caught my punch before I could even bruise her.

  “My lord! Stop! Please! He’s just a boy!”

  I pulled back my fist and looked at my bloody knuckle. I stood up and pulled Abessa to my side. My guards arrived after hearing the commotion and were ready to spear Artesh. I raised my hand to stop them. “No. I have a better idea.”

  They lifted Artesh up. His face was bruised and his mouth was bleeding. It could have been a lot worse without Abessa. Had she not stopped me, I might have killed him. I grabbed Artesh by the throat and looked him in the eye.

  “You are only alive tonight because of your mother. I suggest you thank her for this mercy.”

  He simply looked at her and glared. He then turned to look me in the eye and then spat blood on my chest. “My mother died…I don’t know who that is.”

  Abessa covered her mouth and fled to the innermost part of my tent. I looked at Artesh and whispered to him.

  “You will be banished; forbidden from ever returning. This is the final time I let you live. Mother or no, if you come to face me with that arrogance again, I will kill you. I will feed you to my pet…feet first.”

  I stood up and looked at the guards. “Take him out of here. I don’t want him to corrupt my air any longer.” They dragged him out of the tent to throw him into the wilderness. Perhaps he would die. All the better, I supposed. Still, he surprised me. The boy had a great deal of willpower in him. It almost reminded me of a younger version of myself.

  ***

  The next morning was the day of the final battle. Once again our armies were lined up and ready to charge into the fray. Despite the heavy losses of legionnaires, they stood firm and unbreaking. And as usual, the Bull’s army began their jeers and taunts. However, before the horn could sound and signal the next battle, I stepped forward. The Bull’s army paused and quickly became confused. A great silence fell over them, wondering what I was doing. They must have thought me mad.

  The bull himself eventually came over to face me. Striding in confidently, he looked at me through his darkened helmet. He didn’t say a single word, as if silently demanding what I wanted.

  “Many lives have died in the last few days.” I said as I took my helmet off and cradled it at my side. “Many proud warriors did not survive to see the sun rise on either side.”

  The Bull again said nothing. He only stared at me. I couldn’t see his face though the helmet, yet I felt his gaze scanning my very soul.

  “If your forces are victorious, then they will only be devoured by many, tiny mouths; scavengers wanting to pick off what is left. You know this because I know it would happen to my legion. Therefore, I propose that we end this farce by the only proper means.”

  I had grasped the Bull’s attention. Silently he leaned forward as if anticipating what I would say next. I dropped my helmet on the ground and then set my shield aside.

  “We end this game not with an army, but just two men. Two men to decide the fate of our peoples. You and I, facing each other in single combat. If I win, your army belongs to me. If you win, you may have my head on the condition that you let the rest of my legion go in peace.”

  At that, the Bull finally spoke with a venomous, almost thrilled tone of voice.

  “Finally…”

  He rolled his shoulders and stepped over to me til we were only a foot apart from each other. I stood firm, my hand tightened into a fist.

  “Do you agree to my terms?”

  “I do.” He growled before raising a finger up. “If you will accept mine. The rules of our engagement still apply. No sorcery or other outside help. For this duel, we will be fighting as the gods made us. You will choose one weapon. We will fight. The winner takes everything. All I want is you. Fitting. Cutting the head off of the serpent. No doubt you enjoy the irony of your fate.”

  “We will see. The gods will decide.”

  “They will indeed, little snake. They will indeed…”

  ***

  And so it was that the Bull and I prepared for our ultimate confrontation. Our armies gathered around in a circle to witness the duel. This was no simple duel where we would pick our weapons and shields. This was an ancient, more primal method. No protection from wounds. All of our armor was stripped and tossed aside. One by one, I loosened every piece of armor. When I removed my braces I noted the scars on my wrists. Those ugly scars where nails were driven through had not faded. I rubbed my wrists after feeling a sort of phantom pain.

  Breaking myself free from my distraction, I pulled off the rest of my armor until at last I was almost fully naked, save for my loincloth. My journey in the Blasted Lands began like that. Stark naked and walking through the wilderness, fighting for my life. Now, with all possibility, It seemed as though it would end the same way if I were not careful.

  I was given the option of three weapons. An axe, club and a sword. Of course I couldn’t pick the sword given to me by Ile’Sethak. A simple gladius had to do. I took the gladius in my hand and then watched the Bull.

  He stripped down, the same as I did. At long last, he removed his helmet and set it aside. I expected some grotesque, inhuman abomination behind that mask. Some sort of inbred freak of nature, but instead it was quite the opposite. The man I saw looked younger. Perhaps only in his late twenties. He had short, dark hair. He was clean shaven and had a handsome face. His eyes were slanted subtly, but the most unique feature was the color of his eyes. They appeared normal, save for their color being a dark red color. His gaze was piercing and full of a calm, single minded focus.

  He had no scars on his face, yet his body showed a different story. His skin was a canvas that had many strokes of the blade. War had graced him throughout all of his life.

  Grabbing a hand axe, He walked over to his place, and I went to mine. And there, in the ring that our armies had made, we would decide my fate. The war horn that usually signalled the start of massive slaughter now sounded to announce the duel. Immediately we paced around in a circle.

  Each of us carefully stepped. We both knew that we had to be patient. Aside from the rules that were laid out before, anything went. Knowing this, I kicked dirt into the Bull’s face. He covered his eyes and that gave me the briefest of openings. Yet just as quickly as I thrusted my blade towards his chest, he used the handle of his axe to misdirect my strike. He swung his axe at my throat but I jumped back. The sounds of the armies cheering at our nimbleness.

  We circled one another again before the Bull lunged at me. He made two quick strikes with his axe. My sword blocked them. I used the force of my weight and shoulder to knock the Back into his army. He stepped up towards me and swung his axe again several times. I blocked multiple, but then the axe blade cut my shoulder. The Bull drew first blood and his army cheered as a result. Yet while some other barbarian would celebrate, the Bull focused on me. He didn’t leave any part of himself open to attack.

  I swung my blade at him. He stepped back, knocking my blade aside each time. I stepped back just before he could cleave my head in two. We stopped to catch our breaths for a moment. Then I unleashed a flurry of attacks one after another. He blocked most of them, but I feigned an attack at the last moment. I swung down above his head and he was ready to block it, and yet with great speed I pulled my blade back. He realized too late and turned, but I managed to stab his left arm, just below his bicep. My sword poked through to the other end and with one quick pull I removed my blade and stepped back. He lifted his arm up and saw the hole I made. He growled in pain and snorted.

  He swung several times at me. I managed to dodge most of them before he used the momentum of one of his swings to wind up his fist and backhanded me. It sent me spinning. He swung down and nearly swung the blade into my back. I moved, but the tip of the axe shredded along my back. I growled and spat at the ground. I swung my sword but he dodged out of the way, my blade cutting the air diagonally. He then kicked me, sending me to the Bull’s crowd.

  The Bull’s men grabbed me and were ready to hold me and give the Bull a killing blow, but He yelled loudly at them. He pointed his axe at them and threatened them. He wanted an honorable, clean kill. After letting me go, we paced around each other again and we swung out weapons again.

  The blades bit into one another as they collided. As our blades crossed, he quickly wound up a punch and slammed his fist right into my cheek. While Artesh’s punch barely hurt me the previous night, the Bull’s fist actually did damage.

  My mouth began to bleed, having bitten my own cheek. I spat and thrusted my blade at him again. He bobbed and weaved his head, left and right until I was able to stab him in the thigh. He let out a pained grunt before he tackled me. He pinned me to the ground and held me there. It was then that I felt the thunderous force of his fists plow into my face again and again and again. Each time he punched me, It felt as if my skull would fracture like glass.

  My head swung to the left and blood splurted on that side. Then another punch to the right side of my face, again and again. Desperately, I kneed his groin. He let out a loud yell and grabbed himself. I reversed the tackle and tried to strangle him on the ground, all while the crowd cheered. I gripped his throat tightly in my hands. The whites of his eyes became bloodshot and his face turned bright red and then blue. He dropped his axe and tried to grab my face, yet I was focused on strangling him. He raked his nails along my face, and as hard as I tried to resist, the pain was too intense and I let go. He punched me in the gut and crawled away.

  He stood up and then kicked my face. He was full of rage. He grabbed my neck and then slammed my head into the ground again and again. He kicked me between the legs and I let out a pained, choked groan. He did it again, and I felt sick and some of the worst pain I had felt in ages.

  At that point I had dropped my weapon. I desperately tried to grab it, but the Bull backhanded it away. It was then that the Bull’s fists came down like an avalanche. Each blow made me feel more weak and frail. I could taste the all too familiar copper tang of blood on my tongue, and all the feeling in my face became numb.

  I clawed at his chest and neck, but he continued to beat me relentlessly. Another blow and I saw stars. Another, and it felt like the sun itself exploded in my brain. All the while the crowd still cheered onward.

  There were many questions that ran through my mind at that moment; Was this my fate after all? Was my death on the cross prolonged just so I could have an audience witness my humiliating defeat? Had I come so far and done so much just to die like this?

  I felt fear, and as if I had been abandoned by Ile’Sethak. I could hear the people at that moment. I could see them cradling my body like some sort of trophy. My head mounted on a pike for the Bull. Why keep on the struggle? Why resist? Was it not my fate then to die and let the fighting, the bloodshed and the misery end right then and there? Was I only delaying the inevitable?

  As my head felt wet from blood and the ground under me turned to a crimson red mud, I felt like giving up. I contemplated letting go…

  But that would have been a weakness. I could not die there. I refused to die! I would not let some barbarian be my end while others watched. I did not come so far in the Blasted Lands just to have an undignified end. I was not just some tribal warlord. I was the Kai’Sar: chosen by the serpent god, Ile’Sethak. I was a king, forged by my own hand. I was Hadrian! I did not pull myself off of the cross to throw my life away. I was here not to die, but to conquer!

  I felt something in my grasping hand. The Bull’s axe was in my grasp. I swung the axe and bit into the Bull’s side. He screamed and then I unleashed my full fury. I got on top of him and pounded his face with my fists. With each punch I yelled loudly, grunting like some heated beast with a thirst for blood and gore. Every strike was a testament to my unyielding, unbreakable will! My face was swollen and I was a bloodied mess. One of my eyes was blinded from the punches, and yet I still unleashed my wrath upon him.

  My vision turned red as I thought about those that I would come for next. —Those whom I would target next—. First and foremost, I imagined the face I was turning into paste at that moment belonged to my old Legate, Tempest. Though eventually my own fury was spent. I panted loudly and felt weakened. Under my hands, the Bull was a quivering, twitching mess. My knuckles burned with pain. I couldn’t tell which was my blood and which was his. I stood up and —with barely any energy whatsoever— I walked over to my sword and picked it up. The Bull rose only to have my blade pointed at his throat.

  Silently, he acknowledged that his end had come. The fight had completely left the Bull. He closed his eyes and waited for me to end the duel.

  And yet, It didn’t come. Still pointing my weapon at him, I panted and growled.

  “You are beaten…your life is in my hands. But I would rather not waste a man of your…talents.”

  With shaking legs, the Bull rose to his feet. He spat blood. He looked at me through half closed, swollen eyes. He felt weak and could barely stand. Yet he pushed himself hard. He didn’t speak. So I spoke again.

  “Serve me. Fight for me in my name, and you will have glory beyond your wildest dreams.”

  The Bull looked at his forces and then to me. With a labored groan, he did the only thing that he could. He knelt down. My legion cheered. I acknowledged the Bull and breathed in my new victory.

  “Whatever name you had…it is not yours anymore. From this day forward, the Bull is dead. And in his place…” I thought for a moment. I needed to give him a worthy name. “...You shall be called. Nero.”

  The Bull groaned and repeated the name. A strong name. He looked up at me and huffed. And thus, Nero was born.

  I turned around to all of the people and they chanted my name. “Hadrian! Hadrian! Hadrian!” They cried out again and again and again. I raised my sword in the air. My gamble had paid off, and now all of the land would know of me. They would know, once and for all, that the time of the Kai’Sar, the time of Hadrian had come.