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<br/>
 "A strong woman is not simply born. She is forged through the challenges of life."</span></span>​</div><span style="font-family:Assistant"><br/>
There was so much she wanted to say, so much she could say. Hatred had bottled up inside of her and it would only be a matter of time before she would reach her very own limits. It was not the disrespect that bothered her greatly, for she had grown used to it ever since she was born into slavery, but the obvious arrogance that came with it - and most of all: the way it was believed to be justified. It was completely normal to treat your servants worse than your greatest enemy - many even showed their behaviour towards their slaves off, as if they were even less than a simple belonging to a master. To a Dominus or a Domina. The thought of those words caused her breath to hitch in the back of her throat as she stared at Marcus Cassius, the great Commander of Legio I Germanica. She had trouble understanding what it truly meant - a Legio. But in the end it would not matter, for the words held little meaning but a great obstacle to her. <br/>
<br/>
Marcus was a young commander, attractive to a lot of women, but definitely skilled in his knowledge and tactics. His words were sharp like a dagger, obviously supposed to tear through her flesh and hurt her core. Kore would be lying if she claimed that his words had not affected her at all; the mention of Scaeva opened a fresh wound and caused it to bleed once again. She could feel it in her stomach, and that surprisingly painful empty hole in her chest as she grimaced. The fact that Marcus was taunting her by remaining, or putting up the facade to be calm, only made her feel worse. Her own emotions were her biggest trap. The biggest enemy was not the young Commander, Rome or another Roman - the biggest enemy was Kore herself, who would be digging her very own grave if she did not win the battle against her own mind. She could not allow it - Scaeva would not have allowed it, and neither would the Roman man in front of her allow his own feelings to take the upper hand in battle. No; she could not be the weakest link during the rebellion. She had a duty to fulfill, and that duty stood right in front of her.<br/>
<br/>
But before she was able to release the arrow, trying her best to ignore every word that he said - Marcus flipped the table that he was sitting on. The small, wooden pieces went flying through the tent and she could hear herself groan in slight frustration as soon as her view, and therefore her target, got blocked. He had succesfully succeeded in distracting her long enough to surprise her with the time to prepare his own defense, and right now she was losing precious time. There was no way she could find the best aim from this distance, with a war table separating her from the commander - who had retrieved his shield and a familiar, short sword. A sword that many Romans used and a sword that made them exceptionally dangerous, for they were highly skilled with them. And not only Kore knew that, but so did Marcus.<br/>
<br/>
And if it were not for his last words, nobody would have fallen for his deadly trap.<br/>
<br/>
"No!" Her voice was suddenly loud and demanding, an exclamation that was not only filled with a warning but a command - yet she was unable to stop Vinicio, who stormed forward with his two swords, obviously intending to kill the commander for mocking his dear friend and leader. With the blonde gladiator now in front of her and jumping over the table as he threw himself at Marcus - Kore found herself impossible to even make an attempt to pierce an arrow through Roman flesh, for the risk was great that she would harm or even kill her very own friend. <br/>
<br/>
"Kore, the horn." Ilion's voice was filled with a concern and haste that she did not recognise from him. "Why do you think he waited for the horn? He had been waiting for us as well." <br/>
<br/>
"He is distracting us?" Her eyes remained focused on Vinicio, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before the first of them would fall to the Commander's hand - or even worse. Would it be wise to retreat? Everything would have been for nothing. She glanced quickly at Ilion. "I refuse to wait until someone is able to strike the deadly blow upon him. There is no time." <br/>
<br/>
"Do we flee?" <br/>
<br/>
"Yes." She reached for her daggers and sprinted towards the table, with Ilion on her heels. "But we take the treasure." </span>