The master spy or Puss in the boot adventures

Clash of Titans, Part 39

The gladiators braced themselves as the wild beasts poured into the arena - snarling lions, savage bears, and massive crocodiles, their eyes glinting with primal hunger. The general and his men looked shaken but determined as they formed a tight defensive circle, swords at the ready.

"Hold fast!" Mer-Mer shouted to his companions over the din. "We fight together, as one!"

Shadow-Cat bared her fangs in a fierce grin. "Let's show them what we're made of."

As one, they charged to meet the oncoming tide of tooth and claw. Mer-Mer lost himself in the familiar dance of battle, his sword flashing in the merciless sun. He tapped into his growing shadow magic, cloaking himself in darkness to evade snapping jaws, forming shadowy blades to strike at vulnerable hides.

Beside him, Shadow-Cat was a whirlwind of graceful death, her claws finding eyes and throats with uncanny precision. Spartacus and Ragnar fought back-to-back, a bulwark of strength against the assaults of the largest beasts.

And Latina - the Germanic warrior was a woman possessed, cutting a path straight toward General Marcus Aurelius with single-minded purpose. Beast and man alike fell before her relentless advance, her spear painting a crimson trail across the sand.

Mer-Mer risked a glance at the Imperial box. The Emperor was leaning forward in his seat, eyes bright with bloodlust and glee. He was enjoying this, the madman.

.The second wave of beasts charged, a blur of tooth and claw.

Mer-Mer reached out with his senses, feeling the thrum of shadow magic pulsing beneath his fur. He knew he would have to use his powers judiciously, lest he reveal his secret to the watching masses. But with the odds stacked so heavily against them, he had little choice.

Mer-Mer dissolved into shadow, rematerializing behind a snarling lion. His blade found the creature's heart even as Ragnar's axe severed its spine. Shadow-Cat became a whirling dervish of death, her twin swords flashing in the sunlight as she cut down two tigers in quick succession.

The general was giving a better account of himself than expected, marshaling his men with barked commands and flashing blade. But Mer-Mer could see the fear in his eyes, the dawning realization that this was a fight he might not win.

A massive cave bear reared up before Mer-Mer, its fetid breath washing over him. He rolled desperately to the side as a paw thick with ragged claws swiped through the space where he'd been. Coming up on his feet, Mer-Mer reached deep within himself, calling upon the well of shadow that pulsed in his core.

Inky tendrils lashed out from his extended paw, piercing the bear's hide like midnight spears. The great beast roared in agony and rage, thrashing violently. Mer-Mer pressed his advantage, flanking the wounded animal and hamstringing it with a precisely aimed cut.

As it fell, he caught Shadow-Cat's eye across the madness of the melee. She nodded grimly, acknowledging his enhanced abilities without breaking stride. They had to end this soon, before exhaustion and sheer numbers overwhelmed them.

Nearby, Spartacus and Ragnar battled a pair of tigers, the Thracian's sword a glinting arc and the Norseman's axe a butcher's tool. They were a formidable team, covering each other's backs like brothers.

Mer-Mer lost himself in the chaotic melee of combat, his world narrowing to the rasp of hot breath, the clash of steel on steel, the spray of crimson blood. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, every movement crystal clear. He could feel the ebb and flow of the battle, the tide shifting back and forth.

A massive bear reared up before him, its jaws gaping. Mer-Mer gathered the shadows to him and compelled them forward, forming a spear of pure darkness. The bear collapsed with a gurgling roar, the shadowy weapon punching through its skull.

Mer-Mer risked a glance around and saw that their circle was holding, if barely. Spartacus and Ragnar fought back to back, a whirlwind of death. Shadow-Cat seemed to be everywhere at once, her feline grace and speed unmatched.

But it was Latina who stole the show. The Germanic warrior maid seemed possessed by the spirit of vengeance itself. She tore through the beasts like a whirlwind, blood and fur flying, eyes fixed on her target - General Aurelius.

The general was holding his own, his guards forming a protective ring around him. But they were hard pressed, and one by one they fell to tooth and claw. Soon only Aurelius remained, battling a huge grey wolf.

Just as the beast lunged for the general's throat, Latina struck. Her blade hamstrung the wolf, sending it crashing to the sand. In the same fluid motion she whirled to face Aurelius, teeth bared in a snarl of hatred.

"Murderer!" she screamed. "Defiler! I have waited long years for this day!"

She flew at him in a whirlwind of steel. The general barely got his blade up in time, staggering back under the force of her assault. Latina pressed her advantage, raining down blows, driving him across the blood-soaked arena.

Mer-Mer and Shadow-Cat dispatched the last of the beasts and turned to aid their comrade. But Latina would have none of it.

"No!" she cried, never taking her eyes off Aurelius. "He is mine! Blood calls for blood!"

The crowd was on its feet, screaming itself hoarse at this unexpected drama. Even the Emperor leaned forward, a look of avid interest on his dissolute face.

Latina and Aurelius circled each other warily, blades flashing in the sun...