Nemis, now 18. 48 B.C.

Nemis whipped back, the wooden gladius missing his nose by inches. Not be because Nemis barely dodged it, but because Nemis knew exactly how much to dodge it.

Comella jabbed forward with her other gladius toward his stomach which Nemis casually deflected with a downed turn of his right-hand gladius, turning it away from his body.

It had been a year since Comella had been able to beat him and he doubted this time would be any different.

Nemis turned his forward block into his own jab, slamming the hilt into the side of her head, inching just enough back on power to make it hurt, but not knock her ****.

“Shit! Shit!” Comella forever had a way with words.

Nemis grinned at her and reset his stance.

“Enough!” Doctore’s command was followed instantly. “Comella, retire and bathe. You’re done for the day.”

“But Doctore, I can still train...”

“Not today. We will be making further arrangements to increase your level of expertise. You’ve both learned all you can from each other. It’s time for you both to find new partners for training.”

Comella’s mouth gaped before she quickly had her face under control. Without another word, she left the small sand arena, with only one backwards glance at Nemis.

Nemis saluted the Doctore, fist to chest.

The doctore eyed Nemis. “You leave your room tomorrow for a room in the barracks proper. You will be training with the other gladiators going forward.”

Excitement washed over Nemis, this was what he had been waiting for! A chance to put his abilities versus trained gladiators!

“Rest well tonight, for the beds in the barracks proper are not nearly as comfortable.”

“Yes, Doctore!”