Gladiator Lucius Verus Novels & Stories

Quintus Fabius was already waiting – a slim middle-aged man in one simple white toga, accompanied by only two servants. “Marcus Aurelius,” said Quintus with warm voice. “And Livia Valeria. The Gods may protect you. Come closer. I prepared wine and bread.” Something about his voice sounded too smooth. Too soothing. Livia felt it first. The purple band vibrated warning. She pressed Marcus’ hand. ‘Marcus...’ At that moment the trap broke. At least twenty warriors came from the ruins and the surrounding forest a mixture of aureliers and valerians. Lucius led the one half, you

It was a spectacle of coordinated brutality, a dance of death choreographed by Maximus himself. The Veronan gladiator, known for his swift strikes and calculated moves, found himself outmaneuvered at every turn. Alcides anticipated his opponent's every move, leaving Marcus in the perfect position to deliver devastating blows. The crowd, initially unsure of the dynamics at play, witnessed a masterful display of teamwork.

Only a few showed interest when it came to her playing a piano. There was something mesmerizing about Augustus. He looked delicate but the scars scattered on his marble-like body told her it was the opposite. The guy had been through tough times, for sure. Was he abused as a child? Who did that to him? Her head told her he was intimidating, remembering seeing him and Charleson who seemed into fight in the registration room. But the other version of him who approached her in Mulvar Chamber and connected with her through music was the only reason that she trusted him.

Her father was holding the crown that Veronica will wear. The two of then reached the top and Lilith had to let go Veronica and let her walk on her own. Veronica then sat on the new throne made out of black diamond. The supreme dark-priest stood by her side and took the crown from Hikaris who has a wide smile on his lips. “Will you, Veronica Lorraine Glaiza Elizabeth Vane, take this crown of glory, and wield it with valor and might, through all the days of your reign?” The supreme dark-priest asked.

Their blades met in one final, earth-shattering clash, and Veryon was forced to his knees. Lucius didn't relent. With a sweeping strike, he disarmed Veryon, sending his sword clattering to the ground. The hall erupted in cheers as Veryon fell, defeated. Lucius stood tall, his chest heaving, his sword glowing faintly in his hand. The crowd's roar echoed around him, but his focus remained on Veryon, who lay sprawled at his feet. Victory was his,He had won!

Or he could be Porcius, a tough thug, who had a mouth so strong he fought his way through death mills and arenas to be, again, a soldier, killing and oppressing others like himself. Lucius? A genuine Roman from Italy? Rufus smiled as he jogged, knowing he only watched out for him in case they encountered natives, and so he could have his supper rations delivered to him, which he didn’t share. He utterly despised Lucius and prayed to Lugh to send a shining spear to spite the olive-skinned man and take him away from slavery. Though not overly cruel, Lucius had served longer than most and neared an end to his career.

“Bash, if you can hear me, I need you to fight. I don’t think I can handle losing you. You’re my brother. Who will keep me up worrying if not you?” Quin leaned back in his chair and dabbed the blood from his face once more. He became lost in thought. Taken back to his life before he was a vampire. Even then, he commanded loyalty and devotion in others. Quin had been a twenty-year-old general in the early Roman Republic at around 512 BCE. He’d known the founder of the reformed system of government, Lucius Junius Brutus.

Lucius declared, glaring at him. “Obsessive much, well I guess I will stick with my other plan” he said and stood up. Lucius then decided to pull the trigger at him at that moment but he couldn’t because he felt a small pain in his right leg and his eyes turned blurry. His legs gave away and he fell on the floor and the last thing he saw was Bratva's shoe coming toward him before he blacked out completely. The Bratva looked at the unconscious Lucius and smiled, he had always heard about the infamous first son of Juventus who was as ruthless and dangerous as his mother but he never got to meet him.