I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Excited voices burst through the hallway like a wave.

“Wooaah! It’s really him!”

“Septimius!”

“I can’t believe it!”

“He looks even more handsome and amazing up close!”

“Right?!”

Nathan had only stepped out to look for Curia, yet somehow he ended up surrounded by what felt like the entire class. The moment he appeared, a dozen pairs of eyes locked onto him with a mixture of awe, curiosity, and barely contained excitement.

Originally, these same classmates had been terrified of him—after all, he had appeared out of nowhere beside Caesar during a chaotic moment. But once Freja and Elin vouched for him, insisting he was a good guy who had saved their lives, the group had thawed.

Though apparently… they had thawed a little too much.

“So you’re from Earth too, huh?!”

“Which country?!”

“I heard he’s American!”

“Whoa—an American? No wonder he seems so haughty… but I guess someone like him is allowed to be.”

Freja, in a desperate attempt to get everyone to calm down and agree to return to Amun-Ra, had ended up revealing a bit too much. She told them Nathan—Septimius—was also an Earthling, a summoned Hero, and someone trusted by Cleopatra herself. It was effective, sure… but now everyone was staring at him like he was some celebrity idol.

Nathan let out a slow, annoyed exhale as all the attention smothered him. His gaze drifted toward Freja, who instantly looked away with an awkward, guilty wince.

Ida stepped closer, tilting her head as she scrutinized him.

“You don’t really look like someone from Earth, though…” She muttered thoughtfully.

And she wasn’t wrong. Nathan’s physical body from Earth had been destroyed, remade entirely during the Trojan War. He didn’t resemble his old self in the slightest anymore.

Not that he had any intention of explaining that.

Instead, he shifted his attention to the person who actually mattered here—Curia, standing quietly behind the others.

“Are you healed?” he asked.

“Y-Yes!” she responded quickly, bowing her head in gratitude. “Thank you again, very much!”

Elin’s healing had erased every trace of the injuries Octavius had inflicted—the bruises, the cuts, the ugly marks from the thorned whip. All of it was gone, as if time itself had reversed.

The absurd power of an SSS-Rank Healing Skill in action.

“Good,” Nathan said simply. “Then let’s go see Spartacus.”

Curia’s face immediately lit up, brightening like a lantern.

“Yes!!”

She turned to Elin, her gratitude spilling out again. “Thank you for treating me, Lady Elin!”

Elin smiled warmly. “It’s fine. I’m glad I could help.”

“Wait…” Edit leaned in with sparkling eyes. “Curia, are you maybe… Spartacus’s lover?”

Curia’s cheeks exploded into a deep blush.

“N-No! I wish… but no…” she mumbled, flustered.

The girls erupted into excited squeals.

“Spartacus! The actual Spartacus!”

“A legend from Earth… and he’s real…!”

Even now, some of them still struggled to believe it. Meeting historical figures from Earth was something they’d only read about in textbooks or seen in documentaries. Now those legends had become flesh and blood—alive, breathing, and apparently very attractive.

Nathan had heard enough.

“Let’s go,” he muttered.

Without warning, he stepped toward the window of the fourth floor and jumped—straight out.

Gasps and screams filled the corridor.

But when they looked out and saw him suspended in the air, flying effortlessly, their shock turned into stunned awe.

Medea leapt out after him with no hesitation. Curia, however, remained frozen—until she suddenly felt her body lifting off the ground as Medea grabbed her with magic.

“Kyaaah!!” Curia shrieked as she was pulled into the air against her will, flailing helplessly while Medea dragged her along.

She shut her eyes tightly as the wind howled past her, her body dragged through the skies above Rome. The city unfurled beneath her like an ancient tapestry — marble columns, bustling streets, and domes glinting under the sun — but she was too overwhelmed to look.

A few minutes later, Nathan caught sight of the dominions — specifically, the large fortified one that had once belonged to Octavius. Without hesitation, he descended, landing firmly inside its walls with Medea at his side.

The entire dominion was crawling with Roman soldiers. Their armor gleamed, shields raised, spears held with rigid discipline. After all, every gladiator — Spartacus included — had already been captured and brought here under heavy guard. Spartacus had not resisted. In fact, he had explicitly ordered the others not to fight back either.

He had already killed Octavius. That alone was enough.

He had no intention of starting a meaningless war inside Rome or dragging his comrades into a slaughter. They had followed him out of loyalty, admiration, even brotherhood — he would not repay that devotion with needless deaths.

Nathan and Medea landed in the training grounds. Instantly, several Roman soldiers reacted, weapons swinging toward them in a tense, instinctive motion. But the moment they recognized Nathan, their expressions changed entirely. Spears were lowered. Knees bent. Heads bowed.

“Lord Septimius.”

“Septimius.”

Nathan raised a hand. “I came to speak. There’s no need to be wary.”

The soldiers exchanged quick glances of relief. Some of them even allowed the faintest spark of hope — perhaps he had come to free the imprisoned gladiators. They all knew that Fulvius had given the order to arrest them, and that freeing them would not be simple. Yet they also knew Fulvius’ decision had been… lenient, all things considered.

The gladiators had not harmed civilians — only Caesar’s soldiers. Fulvius had understood what Spartacus wanted: vengeance against Octavius, nothing more. And once Spartacus had achieved that, he had surrendered without further bloodshed. That, combined with the others following suit, had spared them all from execution.

Still, escape was escape. Bloodshed within Rome was bloodshed.

Fulvius could not simply let them walk free. Thus, they were confined again to the dominion, watched by an overwhelming number of guards.

At Nathan’s demand, several soldiers escorted him deeper inside, toward the prison block where Spartacus was held.

The cells were immense, reinforced with heavy iron and stone. Within one of the largest, they found him. Unlike before, Spartacus was bound completely — chains wrapped around his wrists, ankles, even his neck, each link thick enough to restrain a lion. The Romans had no intention of risking another revolt.

When Nathan approached, Spartacus sensed movement and shifted. But it wasn’t Nathan who froze him in place — it was Curia.

“Spartacus!” Curia rushed forward, her hands gripping the cold iron bars, her eyes wide and trembling.

“Curia…” His voice broke softly, disbelief flickering across his face. She looked almost untouched by the horrors she had endured — Elin’s healing had been so thorough she might as well have stepped out of a dream. Relief washed over him at the sight of her alive and whole.

But just as quickly, he forced the emotion away. His expression hardened. He looked down, shoulders sinking under the weight of his chains.

His life was over.

There was no future left for him — not with Rome, not with freedom… and certainly not with Curia.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, tone low and resigned.

“Did you take your vengeance against Octavius?” Nathan asked, his voice calm but edged with an undertone of curiosity.

“I did.” Spartacus answered without hesitation, though his voice carried a quiet exhaustion.

“How are you feeling?” Nathan continued.

Spartacus looked down at the chains weighing down his wrists, the iron biting into his skin. “I don’t know exactly… but I suppose I feel relieved, in a way.”

Nathan let out a faint breath that resembled a scoff. “You seem to have quite the sense of relief for someone wrapped in enough chains to sink a ship.”

Curia’s expression fell at those words, her fingers tightening around the bars. Spartacus gritted his teeth, jaw flexing in silent frustration. He couldn’t even reach out to reassure her.

“In this state,” Nathan continued, stepping closer to examine the iron bindings, “you’re in no condition to repay me for what I’ve done for you.”

Spartacus lifted his eyes. “In fact—”

“Then I’ll release you,” Nathan cut in abruptly.

Both Spartacus and Curia froze, shock flashing in their eyes. They stared at Nathan as if they hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Instead of rotting uselessly in this place,” Nathan said, tone steady, “I need you somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else?” Spartacus echoed, bewildered.

“A kingdom a bit far from here,” Nathan explained. “I want you to work for me — under my orders. I won’t demand anything humiliating from you. Just… a guard position.”

Spartacus blinked, stunned. “W…What… why? Why ask me?”

“Because you’re strong,” Nathan replied without missing a beat. “And you’re not trash. Those are enough reasons.”

He stepped forward until he stood directly in front of Spartacus, meeting the gladiator’s gaze with sharp, unflinching eyes.

“What do you say, Spartacus? A new life. A new home. A place where you can build a future — a real future. I’ll also release the gladiators who followed you. But they’ll all have to swear loyalty to me. In return, they’ll receive homes, work, safety… and more importantly, freedom.”

Spartacus swallowed hard, the weight of the offer settling deep into his chest.

Was such a thing truly possible?

Working under someone again didn’t sit well with him. But Nathan… Nathan was different. He wasn’t a tyrant. He wasn’t Octavius. They had fought side by side in the coliseum. He had seen Nathan fight and lead.

Nathan turned, already walking away. “I won’t make a second offer, Spartacus. Think wisely.”

Silence hung thick in the air.

“I accept.”

Nathan stopped mid-step. Slowly, he looked back over his shoulder.

“But… Curia,” Spartacus added, hesitating. “Can she come?”

Curia’s breath caught. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“I mean—if you want…” Spartacus added quickly, suddenly nervous despite the chains.

Curia’s face lit up instantly, joy flashing across her features. “Of course I want!”

Nathan gave no further words. He simply turned and exited the cell with Medea beside him.

Behind the bars, Spartacus exhaled — for the first time in what felt like years — with a glimmer of hope.