Chapter 518: Suffering

"How much torment did the slave masters inflict on you?"

The old gladiator, whose illusion had been woven by Kharn, spoke with a sorrowful voice,

his gaze upon Angoron's twisted body like that of a father watching a child ravaged by addiction until unrecognizable.

He was Angoron's adoptive father in Nuceria, the old gladiator Oenomaus.

He and Angoron had once defeated many enemies together; when the slave masters forced them to duel each other, both Angoron and Oenomaus chose to refuse.

Thus the slave masters meted out cruel punishment: they implanted Butcher's Nails into Angoron's head. In the extreme rage and pain brought by the brutal surgery, Angoron accidentally killed Oenomaus.

This event marked the beginning of Angoron's rebellion, and also the beginning of his fall and madness.

Relying on the soul reflection provided by Hua Di Huang and the raccoon suit provided by Zhou Yun, Kharn reconstructed Oenomaus's figure as an illusion before Angoron's eyes.

This was Zhou Yun's idea.

Upon hearing this idea, Sanguinius's expression nearly broke; Ji Li Man could not help but shake his head repeatedly; only Hua Di Huang thought it was indeed a good idea.

Some might accuse Zhou Yun of having no moral bottom line, deeming such exploitation of another's familial bonds too vicious, no different from summoning a loved one via Reanimation Jutsu and stuffing explosive tags into the reanimated corpse, simply born evil.

But Zhou Yun would ask,

did Angoron not wish to see Oenomaus again?

Did he not wish to see the father he had accidentally killed again?

Zhou Yun had merely fulfilled this longing of Angoron's, letting him meet his adoptive father.

So Zhou Yun felt he was simply doing charity; Angoron should be grateful to him.

Alas, in this dark and deep forty-first millennium of humanity, true kindness is never understood,

Zhou Yun sighed inwardly.

Angoron's reaction was greater than Kharn had anticipated.

That crimson beast froze in place the instant it saw Oenomaus.

When Oenomaus's voice reached Angoron's ears, Kharn once again saw that same sorrow from ten thousand years ago in those eyes, now blood-yellow and hollow.

Suddenly, Kharn realized that Angoron's soul, the original Angoron, had always been at the very depths of this crimson body, tormented by rage and pain.

This body, this life, was itself the shackle imprisoning Angoron.

Fate's long torment had left Angoron unable to see any hope of successful rebellion; he had completely given up, cowering before the cage and shackles, immersed in dark rage, unwilling to think or understand this world.

Oenomaus's appearance briefly awakened a bit of Angoron, causing emotions other than rage to surge within him.

He looked at Oenomaus with a bewildered gaze, confused as to why he could not raise anger against this frail mortal, why his arm could not lift, why he could not swing his axe at him.

Many fragmented memories flashed before his eyes, these memories seeming to roar, to beg, hoping Angoron would not repeat the errors of old.

Oenomaus slightly raised both hands, reaching toward Angoron, and spoke with a voice dull as the packed sand of the arena:

"Child, come here, let me look at you."

"How many years has it been since we last met? Ten thousand years?"

"You have truly suffered too much, too much."

"If I could have fought side by side with you all along, perhaps everything would truly be different."

Angoron instinctively took a step toward Oenomaus.

+No! +

The Blood God's roar sounded in Angoron's ears, screaming to remind Angoron that a trap lay ahead.

But Angoron, as if hearing nothing of the Blood God's fury, suddenly took another step forward, his massive body inching closer to Oenomaus. +No! +

+No! +

+No! +

The Blood God's voice continued to sound in Angoron's ears, but Angoron seemed as if he heard nothing.

The Blood God could, of course, choose to intervene directly and control Angoron with his own power.

But in the Blood God's view, that would be somewhat too much of a rule-break, violating the agreement he had reached with Zhou Yun.

After all, warning was at most a blessing, but intervening personally to control him directly was simply playing dirty.

Driven by instinct, Angoron walked to Oenomaus's side.

His muscles appeared fragile and powerless in Angoron's eyes; his stature, compared to Angoron's, could be called tiny; as for strength, it was not even a fraction of Angoron's.

Yet for some reason, Angoron felt that the hands reaching toward him possessed irresistible power.

Oenomaus's soul, reflected through this illusion into reality, gently reached out and cupped Angoron's heavy face.

Tears welled in the old gladiator's eyes; he tried to use his fingers to find traces of Angoron's former face.

Oenomaus was not forced to execute this plan.

Although Kharn considered this plan extremely unscrupulous, Oenomaus had chosen to accept this plan himself, because

"My child, my warrior, my comrade."

Oenomaus spoke softly:

"I still remember the words you once spoke to me when we were trapped in the cage."

"You said that if one day you betrayed your brothers and sisters, becoming a slave master's hound, you would rather have me cut off your head."

"I have come, child; I have come to keep our promise."

Angoron's head, nearly completely destroyed by the Butcher's Nails, could not understand what Oenomaus was saying.

He could not help but reach out his hands, wanting to embrace this tiny mortal, to embrace this gladiator's body.

Oenomaus did not resist, allowing Angoron to draw him into his arms.

First came warmth, warmth that reminded Angoron of the sun-baked sand in the arena.

Then came heat, heat that reminded Angoron of the scorching sun of Nuceria.

He suddenly caught a fragment of memory.

That was a burly old gladiator and a strong young man, standing in the arena's sand, gazing at the sun in the sky.

"Child, freedom is a priceless gift from heaven; all the treasures buried underground, beneath the seas, and among the stars cannot compare."

"Freedom is worth risking one's life for, just like honor; slavery without freedom is the most bitter thing."

"But even more bitter than this is losing the very will to pursue freedom."

Anglong let out wails and roars as the old gladiator in his arms slowly faded away, leaving only a miniature sun hidden within his body, burning fiercely and scouring Anglong's scarlet flesh.

(End of this chapter)