Closing his eyes, the Mad Prince allowed his maid to wash away the sweat and blood from his body, even though what seemed to him to have ended in half an hourglass time had been reversed three times.

Three hours! God knows how much these handmaidens love the body of the mad prince. It was so white that it was enviable, smooth and almost invisible, let alone gladiators who had fought for years, and even the most elite Roman soldiers did not have such a beautiful and good skin.

As the heir to the Eastern Kingdom, although the country was destroyed and he was sold into the gladiatorial arena as gladiator slaves, the status of the old royal family still allowed Roman II to arrange a slightly decent life for him, including a separate prison, a rich meal of fish, meat, and eggs, and a bath once a week.

After bathing, wearing a rudimentary linen sleeveless shirt, and having his weapons confiscated, the mad prince is escorted back to his cell by the guards, or as you can call it "home".

"It's time to eat!"

The grimacing guards bring the Mad Prince a sumptuous lunch, consisting of a whole fish, bacon, ham, fluffy white bread, and vegetarian soup.

As a star gladiator, the mad prince naturally doesn't need to huddle in the stinky canteen with pig food, and someone will deliver him three meals a day.

Asked about the scent, the mad prince suddenly opened his eyes.

As black as the night, as if inlaid with two crystal clear black pearls, including the white jade eyeballs, the only thing that destroys this beauty is emptiness, indifference, numbness, nothingness, and no emotion.

In the corner where no one was looking, a slight arc suddenly jumped out of the mad prince's eyes, and the retina suddenly flew across a large number of numbers, a machine language that should not exist in this world, or even in this universe.

The food in front of him was accurately coded, and after just one glance, the mad prince suddenly got up, stretched out his arm through the gate and grabbed the guard who was about to leave.

The guard seemed to be startled, and was about to draw the saber at his waist, when the mad prince lifted him up with his arm upward.

"You...... What do you want? ”

The color is fierce, but it is difficult to hide the fear in the guard's heart. If you really do it, it is not certain that the other party will die, but you will definitely die.

"Food, not enough."

The Mad Prince's voice was unpitched, unemotional, and spoke in a less proficient Romance language.

"Wait!"

After saying this, the mad prince let go of his hand and watched the guards leave with a curse. In less than a few moments, an equal portion of food was placed in front of him.

Looking at the sumptuous lunch in front of him, the mad prince did not immediately enjoy it, but sat on the edge of the bed, his mind racing to the strange changes that had happened to him three days ago.

The travel of time and space, or the jump of the world line, or the higher concept of the universe...... The knowledge in my head does not explain this incredible experience, the years that have been experienced for seventeen years, and the three days have been washed over and over again, the same person, but this experience is extremely strange.

……

The chaotic gladiator canteen was crowded with people, the stench was stinking, and the gladiators who had not bathed for months or even a whole year filled the canteen, and the sweat on their bodies and the fleas on their heads fell into the plate like pig food, mixed with all kinds of flavors, and the gladiators who had long been hungry seemed to lick every drop of soup clean with the attitude of tasting the supreme deliciousness, and looked at the empty plates, still looking unsatisfied.

Spartacus was a star gladiator alongside Conan and the Mad Prince, and he was supposed to have the power of special services, but with a tough, gentle, and benevolent personality, he gave up this honor and was willing to gather with his friends in a messy canteen.

This is a tall young man with a stature no less than that of the barbarian king Conan, a sturdy physique unique to the barbarians of the Ice Plains, with a shining golden messy hair, white and handsome skin, if it were not for the mad prince, Spartacus would be the most popular gladiator, although I don't care about this.

"Damn hell of a day!"

The elder Henry is forty years old this year, and the average life expectancy of the gladiator is less than twenty-four years old, but it is inevitable that once a person enters middle age, his physical fitness will begin to decline, and with one gladiatorial performance a week, under normal circumstances, the old Henry will not live for three years.

"Wrestling with lions, fighting tigers, wrestling with heretics who don't believe in Caligula, fighting against their own brothers, when will such a day be the end!"

It's no wonder that old Henry complained, no one wanted to live a precarious life.

Sitting next to old Henry was a young man with beautiful long flaxen hair, who looked to be only seventeen or eighteen years old, and had freckles on his face. The long-haired youth was equally indignant:

"Since the establishment of the arena, there are almost two hundred gladiators with a ninety-ninety-nine winning streak, but there is not a single one who can win a thousand consecutive victories, and the Romans simply want us to die!"

Perhaps influenced by the two, more and more gladiators complained, insulted, and sarcastically spoken in various dialects.

Spartacus stared calmly at the complaints of his friends, and the hand holding the spoon became tighter and tighter, and the green tendons rose one by one.

Even if he is one of the three stars of the gladiatorial arena, he still can't change his identity as a slave, a talking tool, without autonomy, he can buy and sell at will, and he can be scolded or killed by nobles and freemen at will.

The Sixteen Kingdoms of the Blood Alliance, led by the Roman Kingdom, is an evil alliance of nations, they believe in Caligula, the god of blood and killing, and their gods by waging wars and conquering other countries to please their gods, and those who will be sold into the gladiatorial arena are all non-blood alliance aliens, including barbarians in their mouths, and nationals of heretical countries.

In distant myths, the gods of heaven created the world, created man in their own image, and different gods created different races, looking lovingly at the children they created from the mixture of earth and water, and human beings, also known as the children of the gods.

Spartacus didn't understand why there was a war in the world. Why do the sons of God kill each other?

His blue eyes were always melancholy, for he was always thinking about philosophical questions that were incompatible with his current identity.

He comes from the polar snowfields and believes in the god of war of the north wind. He taught the people integrity, loyalty, bravery, compassion, and fearlessness. As the people of the God of War of the North Wind, they may not be much worse than the people of Caligula.

Old Henry came from the steppes further west, where it is said that the gods of half man and half horse were worshipped, and each of his friends had loyal beliefs to the gods, and were all sons of gods, so why did we have to be slaves of the sons of the gods of Caligula?

In Spartacus's heart, a plan that had been prepared for more than ten years was brewing, and for this reason, more than twenty comrades who would never betray him united around him to fight together for the ultimate dream.

It's all about freedom.

……

Far East, the god of blood and slaughter, an ancient empire that has lasted for thousands of years, is inhabited by black-haired and black-eyed people, whom the Western Continents call "descendants of demons". Because the beliefs of Caligula only began to spread in the Eastern countries a hundred years ago, what were the beliefs of the Orientals a hundred years ago? Nobody wants to know.

The same son of the god of Caligula, the sixteen countries of the Blood Alliance coveted the richness of the Eastern Kingdom, from a hundred years ago forcibly opened the door of the Eastern Kingdom, spread the teachings of the god of blood and killing, until the complete destruction of this country three years ago, a total of dozens of major wars have broken out in the past hundred years, tens of millions of people have died in battle, tens of millions of people have been displaced, for the sixteen countries of the Blood Alliance, there are too many Orientals, and most of them must be killed, the policy of enslavement must be implemented, and the Eastern civilization will be completely destroyed.

The mad prince who destroyed the country, in the Eastern parlance, he should be the crown prince.

Although the last emperor had dozens of concubines, he only gave birth to one son. He was trained as a prince at birth, became literate at the age of three, and began to learn kung fu, hand-to-hand combat, and court swordsmanship at the age of five.

Under the strict teaching, the crown prince will become a qualified heir, but in the era in which he lives, the empire has fallen into a storm, with strong enemies invading, friends fighting inside, and corrupt government affairs, starting from his grandfather, the emperor has become a puppet.

The crown prince is a qualified prince, but what he receives is a mess.

So, on his thirteenth birthday, the blonde and blue-eyed Western Continent broke through the gates of the palace, and all the royal family was captured, and the noble blood became a sacrifice to Caligula.

The crown prince was lucky enough to escape, and continued to fight against the Blood Alliance countries with a forbidden army of 5,000 people, from the imperial capital to the frontier, with a maximum of 100,000 soldiers under his command.

Half a year later, betrayed by a traitor, the prince was defeated and captured by the Romans, and was sent to the Central Arena of Roman City to become a gladiator slave because of his superb combat skills, and four years have passed in a flash.

Wings of Breaking the Country, a goshawk with ambition but no power to return to the sky, after a short flight, it is inevitable to break its wings and fall. This is the title given to him by the Romans, a good and sad prince.

Stroking the rusty armor beside him, this is the armor he wore when he was captured, he was still a little old when he first put it on when he was thirteen years old, but after he was seventeen, it was just right.

Touching the creature on the breastplate that looked like a snake but not a snake, the mad prince heard what his father had said before:

"We are the people of the true dragon, our surname is engraved with the pride of the true dragon, and our blood flows with the indomitable spirit of the true dragon!"

I saw the touch that came, and pulled the mad prince's thoughts back from a long time ago.

The surname of the Eastern Imperial Family is Long Teng, my name is Cangye, Cangye Longteng, the mad prince who destroyed the country, his heart is full of crazy hatred and anger, and his lifelong wish is to destroy the Blood Alliance, and then gather the old people of the East to restore the country.

"Is this your wish?"

The night can feel the violence, persistence, and hysteria that comes from the personality that is about to dissipate. The mood swings make the night very uncomfortable.

"Is this human emotion?"

Shaking his head, the night temporarily forgot this impulse, the dissipation of the mad prince's personality meant the return of the main personality, Omega 95, from the interstellar era through the mysterious Middle Ages, and this world, he has a strong sense of familiarity.