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... lunge grazed the VIP balcony and Nathan intercepted him. For a heartbeat the roar of the crowd — sand-scented shouts, the metallic clink of armor, the distant cry of hawkers — cut into nothingness, as if the stadium itself were holding its breath. People glanced up, searching the boxes where senators and nobles sat, whispering the same question: was that part of the show? Or had Spartacus actually dared to strike at the Emperor’s dais?
It looked too real to be a stunt.
The silenc ...
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