Author's Note:

With the comments, be it the private ones or the public reviews, in mind, I wrote the chapter. Thanks for the feedback. Now have fun reading the chapter.

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Spartacus

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As it appeared, he was immortal. A code bearer like the Witch who contracted him. She would cackle madly at his misfortune. The Witch whose addiction to pizza got him many headaches would make jokes about his title alone. After all, he was a Warlock who now could create miracles in the same vein similar to the prophets of old. He wasn't so arrogant to believe he could challenge god, however, he could actually bestow the Geass unto mortals.

His violet eyes swung to the tattoed woman who called him Azor Ahai; a strange title for sure. Another title to his already growing collection of admittingly impressive titles: Warlock, The Demon Emperor and now Azor Ahai whatever it meant.

His curiosity could not be curbed as the fire was already lit. "Azor Ahai?" His dry tongue tasted the strange words with no familiarity to the roots of High Valyrian.

"When the Mele qēlos bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst ōrbar se lopor to wake Zaldrīzes out of stone." At least, she could speak Dothraki. The High Valyrian was a problem, he could perhaps solve with little hints.

"Mele qēlos?" At his questioning look, she pointed at Melisandre's hair, then high up. Mele could be the colour adjective, and if the hair colour of Melisandre wasn't a hint, it meant red. Red qēlos. She did point up. The only thing he could think of was the sky. Red sky could fit.

He asked, "ōrbar se lopor?" He stopped her before she could answer, with a single motion of his hand.

As interesting as it was to learn something new, they needed to hurry up. It wouldn't be long before the slavers noticed something wrong and stopped the slave revolt in its infancy. He did not fancy himself a Spartacus, his mediocre fighting abilities aside, he wouldn't want to be crucified.

He observed the standing slaves who looked certainly determined and even with a hint of religious fervour as if Azor Ahai was some prophet to die for.

Lelouch's smirk couldn't be wiped off his face at the sight of just barely twenty slaves under his command while possible hundreds of slavers
threatened to destroy him. A cornered animal was a dangerous one. A religious one more so.

What fancy odds he had. Slavers with the possibility of having combat training. However as he observed some of his fellow revolters' posture, he could guess that some of them had seen combat or were trained. These men and women didn't vomit at the sight of the corpse - missing a chunk of its neck - like the others.

Lelouch chuckled to the surprise, startling them. He worked with less and more unfavourable odds. Admittingly, he had his Geass - the power of absolute obedience - to compensate for much, but that wasn't what marked him if one would ask his Black Knights.

He turned to the corpse, a dark man in something similar to Linothorax, reminiscent of the famous Greek armours he saw in the museum he visited often with his sister. The term was a direct description of the armour; meaning wearing a breastplate of linen.

His sight landed on the only dark slave in his group. That would work. After all, the surprise was on his side. To defeat a numerically superior army, the maxim dīvide et imperā was the key to divide a massive concentration of force into weak separate forces and apply numerical superior force to these weak spots in the armour of the enemy to rule them. If he understood the slavers' mentally right, it would mean that for every twenty or more slaves, one or two guards would watch them without fearing a revolt.

Ruling through fear could only take one so far until hope bloomed in the darkest pit of hell. As it seemed, he was this very hope. A Spartacus in the making, the crucify aside, a man who could match his wits with Roman generals and his slave army with the iron legions of Res publica Romana, the Roman Republic, the mightiest of all civilizations aside from the Han Empire of ancient China.

He was Zero, the Commander of the Black Knights, who single-handedly brought victory over again and again with his strategies and tactics alone.

Lelouch gritted his teeth as he clenched his hand around the grip of the iron dagger stuck in his body and pulled it out to the gasps of all who saw the wound rapidly closing. The tattoed woman stared with a mad gleam in her eyes as she whispered, "Azor Ahai." Ah, religious fanatics.

He ignored her and raised his dagger, pointed at the dark slave who was definitely trained for war. "Get the key. Unlock all. The armour yours. Now slaver." Tried as he might, speaking fluidly in High Valyrian was a little complicated. His only teachers were illiterate villagers and a little girl. The Dothraki didn't count as their vocabulary only extended as so far to insult the enemy.

Fortunately, he got a nod from the dark slave who went to pat the corpse, searching for the key which he found around the neck of the dead guard. After unlocking his chains, he threw the key to Lelouch who did the same to his chains. The key went around the group until all were free of chains.

A little glance to the dark man, he saw how the man would resemble a guard in employment of the slavers. With the sword in his hand, he was an intimidating sight.

"Now. Free. No slaves. Fight." He halted the cheers that he knew were coming by raising his fist.

He turned to the 'guard', "Your name?"

"Xarros." An exotic name for sure.

His eyes surveyed the men and women who could possibly fight. "Five. Man. Woman. With me." - He turned his head slightly to the side - "Xarros, slaver. Play. Lead. Others. Free them."

Two women stepped up, including the religious fanatic. The other one was a strange one with a scared face, yet her body was relatively muscular, broader and taller which made her an intimidating sight with her hulking frame over him.

He hoped her muscles weren't just for show.

The other three men were all Dothraki; he could recognize these braids anywhere. Well, even without the Horse, they should be able to fight even better as the guards who didn't even see war.

His strategy was a simple one, after all, the simpler, the better he could change it on the fly if some unforeseen variables popped up.

Thus deception was the first condition which he had in form of an actor who would play the guard. The surprise was an important factor for it to work smoothly.

The second condition was to arm them all or at least all who knew how to use a weapon to kill.

Third condition: Convince them all to revolt. That was easy enough with his immortal body. He would give them hope they all desired. And for the slavers cold steel.

The last of all conditions was crucial. His words must echo in their very souls. It must free them of their psychological chains. Unfortunately, the language barrier would prevent that. However, there was a far simpler alternative. Mimics and gestures. His approach would be called for theatrics the likes of his other persona, Zero.

Then, only then was the stage set for the new appearance of Zero.

The next steps after that would be simple enough. To conquer a ship from the hands of a superior enemy, one would need to reach the food storage. After all, an army did not march on empty stomachs. The enemy commander would realize that too, which meant it would be a race between them.

Lelouch's grin widened as he continued the trail of thought. A natural bait. The perfect opportunity to trap the enemy. He would need to send a group of disguised guards in the location where all food was stored. He would herd them like good little animals for the slaughter.

He looked to Xarros who had a grim face. "Lead. Now. We follow. Slaves."

Xarros gave him a wide grin, showing his foul teeth like a proud peacock, strode to the door.

"Stay. Use chain. Kill. Slavers." With his last command given, he followed his 'guard' with his fellow 'slaves'. He knew that the freed slaves were intelligent enough to use the chain as an improvised weapon which to be fair was actually a very lethal use.

As he followed Xarros' lead to the other slave quarters, he took a brief sniff and promptly distorted his face into an ugly grimace as the smell invaded his nose. Bathing was definitely needed. A luxury for now.

He nodded at his fellow 'slaves' who played the role convincingly with a submissive pose.

His eyes took every last detail of the corridor. Two guards. Close to each other. Narrow corridor. Six doors each side. Maximum twelve. If he assumed every quarter held twenty slaves, it would mean that 260 slaves were onboard the whole ship.

Lelouch had his suspicions on why all slaves were separated in quarters with a group dedicated to rowing while others... well, he often heard the term pleasure slave in his time in the Dothraki Horde. Although, it made sense to separate for many other reasons. Diseases.

However, he was a cynical person. He trusted the evil within humans more than the good in them which was the reason why he took all the hate on himself to create peace.

If it was a quarter which task was rowing, two guards were considered enough. After all, chains were the second security measure before the first which was the rowing that exhausted the body completely.

But... if the quarter was reserved for the fleshly pleasure...

His hands balled into fists, yet he continued in the direction of the thought.

On the other hand, the guards' pants would be literally down. Advantageous for his group.

He whispered, "First. Kill. Two guards." He didn't need to check if all understood. They weren't mentally retarded.

Xarros' lead them in front of the two guards who stood in front of another door with a lock.

Lelouch gripped the dagger as he positioned himself left close to the other guard while Xarros' left hand gripped the sword pommel in preparation. He nodded to Xarros who in response changed his grip fluidly to the handle and pulled it fast out -

He turned his head to the guard who was in the process of unsheathing his, but unfortunately fumbled a little which gave Lelouch time to stab his dagger into the neck. The guard went gurgling gently down with the help of Lelouch.

He looked at Xarros and saw the sword sticking into the guard's gut while his right hand was clasped over the mouth, silencing the screams.

The armour and weapons were taken by the hulking woman and a man who had the longest braid of all three Dothraki. He could have been a Bloodrider which would be certainly strange to see him here as a slave.

He asked, "Dothrakhqoyi?"

"Dothrakhqoyi." A statement. At his raised eyebrow, the dothrakhqoyi answered, "Revenge for Khal." Well, that made sense.

Another sniff and he discovered the reason for such slow responses from the two now dead guards. Drinking while guarding was an offence in every military army, well, at least the modern ones. Although to be fair, these were possibly mercenaries. Discipline wasn't often the image others would see in a mercenary. In medieval times more so.

Now, he had three 'guards' who could separate into three entities who would free the slaves, yet it was too risky as the number of guards in each quarter was unknown. He estimated that it wouldn't exceed over five if it wasn't a pleasure quarter. Decisions. Decisions.

Lelouch knew he was arrogant, alright. His immortality didn't help his humble self at all. However, he didn't like unknowns. Lesson upon lessons pertaining to ignoring unknown variables because of arrogance developed his cautious side. Painful lessons, even some taught by his old friend, Suzaku.

He did not need to take the risk at this early stage of the plan. It just wasn't worth. Time was on their side at the moment so long the deception lasted.

"One. Go back. Call. Men. Women. Lajak. Guard." He gestured to the door where the two corpse laid. The three Dothraki looked to each other. He knew already that the Bloodrider would decide the one who would do the given task. Ah, of course, the braid which was shorter than the other would take the task. A convenient selection method.

With that out, he nodded to Xarros who understood the next course of action.

Xarros took them to the closest door where suspicious noises sounded out. Lelouch could make out the grunting and slapping. It was obvious.

Besides him, the hulking woman's face was even scaring him as her grip on the sword was hard enough for her knuckles to whiten. The two Dothraki meanwhile didn't show disdain, instead, he noticed the eager look of the Dothraki with shorter braid while the Bloodrider didn't seem to care at all.

This one was a dangerous element to his -

His hand grabbed onto the arm of Xarros, stopped him from pushing the door. Xarros turned his head and glared at him.

He, himself, wanted to kill these disgusting slavers, yet his cautious side warred with the other bloodthirsty one.

What would happen if they stormed the quarter?

The surprise would only last for the first kill. Or the first three kills. Ignoring the dangerous element at his side, his kill added would make it to first four kills. The number of guards was unknown.

He took a deep breath as he listened to the noises, trying to separate them to discern how many guards were raping. Even as his stomach flipped, he continued.

His mind went over the theory of sound to distract him from the uneasy thoughts.

Noises were vibrations going through matter like sound waves in physical terms. A sound wave moved in a longitudinal wave - compression and decompression of air - in other words: a pressure wave. Air slowed the speed down to four times that of water as its characteristics allowed sound to travel fast from one point to another. That meant gas was four times slower than liquid which it itself four times slower than solid matter. Less resistance meant waves were more easily generated. The solid matter like the wooden door made filtering each sound harder.

Lelouch signalled for Xarros to be silent as his ear rested on the door, touching the hard wooden material.

The reason for the difficulty was that sound travelling from gas to solid matter, like in this case: air to wood, would mostly reflect.

Yet it wasn't impossible, after all, the brain of a human was ingenious.

He closed his eyes and focusing while ignoring everything else but the noises in the quarter.

Selective auditory attention or for short selective hearing was the action of exclusively focusing on the sound one wanted to hear. As his biology teacher once said: It was the ability to acknowledge some stimuli while ignoring other stimuli occurring at the same time. The brain could never process all sensory information as it was simply too much which meant only the important ones were processed. A capability to block out all unnecessary sounds and noises.

Practices made the master. He practised it thoroughly together with Nunnally, after all, she could only use her auditory sense besides her touching.

Through closing his eyes and focusing on one particular type of noises, he could create a virtual bottleneck to process the noise he wanted. A very delicate process.

A grunt. One.

"Līve..." Whore.
Another one.

"...Rene." Slut.
Three.

Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Nothing more. They would only need to kill eight guards who were raping slaves. He had the advantage if he waited for the others to come.

Unfoturtanely, there was a problem with the slaves who would certainly scream out in fear, yet it was also fortunate that it was a pleasuring quarter which removed the suspicion so long the other guards could recognize the female scream.

"Wait. Others. Eight guards. There. Need more lajak." His tone was flat which broke no arguments, even as he saw some stiffened.

He reiterated, "Wait. Order." The Dothraki with shorter braids glared at him for daring to get into his fun. He held the stare without compromise.

The Bloodrider's sword touched the tanned skin of the Dothraki, drawing little blood. It stopped the dangerous element from doing something foolish. Well, apparently he held the respect of the Bloodrider who gave a nod, acknowledging him as another Dothraki worth riding with into battle.

The steps of the reinforcement hurried to them.

Lelouch said, "Need four lajak. All women. Use chain. Strangle. Enemy." His four women positioned themselves behind him. They also heard the noise.

He could see the fury clearly on the faces. That was the reason why he chose the other gender. Women would focus on killing them, letting the anger out on a corpse.

On the other hand, the disadvantage was that the anger would need to be controlled. "Be silent. Control. Kill." At his words, the women in the strike team all nodded with determined mines, shadowed by clouding anger in the eyes.

Xarros looked at him. He nodded. The door was pushed open.

The sight was disgusting, yet he didn't let it distract him as he followed his 'guard'. The other guards looked only for a fraction of time until they continued doing the disgusting deed while ignoring them completely.

All of them went to their targets. He showed three fingers. Two. One.

His dagger found its home into the naked flesh while his other hand clasped around the guard's mouth. The coppery smell was a welcome distraction to the other stenches. Some females screamed.

No visible cues of detection. A calculated risk he took which paid off.

His eyes wandered to the others, seeing four women strangling the guards with the chain alone, lifted his spirits -

Lelouch stalked furiously to the Dothraki who he already considered a dangerous element, which he now considered an enemy. The decision was taken out of his hand as the hulking woman beheaded him partially. He died gurgling in his own pool of blood on the ground beside the slave he tried to rape.

Dothraki. Savages.

He held already disdain before he met them, after his time in a Dothraki Horde, he was completely disgusted by them.

"Xarros. Continue. Free other slaves." He sat down, exhausted physically and mentally. He watched as the four women exchanging the chains with the swords and armour while the religious fanatic calmed down the freed female slaves. She whispered, "Azor Ahai." Again with the religious title.

Lelouch's curiosity was stroked as he heard, "...Temple." It appeared he was on the right track as it was indeed connected to a religion. Could it be that he was something of a prophet? That would be... ridiculous.

In the end, he didn't waste more time to consider the importance of the title as the slave quarters needed to be cleared of all guards. The once pleasure slaves were freed.

He hadn't heard her name, the name of the tattooed woman. He had the feeling that she was a priestess. The tattoos gave it away. He assumed she belonged to some religious cult.

Lelouch shrugged his shoulders.

"Azor Ahai." The freed slaves looked at him, definitely more than simple admiration. The religious gleam was very distinctly.

As interesting as it was, they needed to make haste as a medieval person would say.

Out of the pleasure quarter, he could finally breathe again. Fortunately, Xarros obeyed his command to the letter as he saw more than 200 slaves cramping in the narrow corridor.

His eyes went back to Xarros who stared at him, waiting for his new orders. No, he wasn't the only one; every freed slave stared at him. He could see the hesitation miles away, yet there was more, a little flower of hope blooming the dark pit.

Lelouch clenched his fingers around the hilt, raised the dagger high and plunged it into his heart. With a growl, he cut his chest open. The heart was for all to see. With the left hand, he grabbed a hold of it, feeling the unbearable pain, yet he did not stop.

He bit his tongue, holding back the screams which threatened to consume him as he threw his heart to the ground. It continued to pump. He stomped onto it like it was some insect.

The reactions varied. He was being stared at. His wound closed. A miracle. He delivered them proof of hope.

All kneed in front of him on the ground with whispers of, "Azor Ahai." Heads bowed. More than a sign of respect. A sign of utter submission.

"I am Azor Ahai. Free all slaves. We." He struggled a little, trying to find the right words.

"Need lajak. Food storage. Conquer." At his words, more than fifty stood up.

"All. Dark men. Play. Guard. Go food storage. Kill the guards. Silent." Armour and weapons were exchanged.

"Go. Now." The disguised lajak as guards obeyed.

Every condition was set. Now the next stage of the plan to conquer the ship: Lure the enemy into an ambush.

The food storage room would play the natural bait to lure the enemy while the trap would be the narrow corridor. He could already guess that it was correct to assume as most ships were built in the same way. His visit to the famous Britannian museum helped him to determine that.

His thoughts strayed far away from Nunnally.

In these narrow corridors, the enemy numerical superiority was useless. The Spartans were proof of that in the Battle of Thermopylae, even if it was exaggerated. Fact was: Numbers won't matter in a narrow pass.

On the other hand, it could also be that the enemy didn't even have the numbers to break the slave revolt. He knew arrogance very well. He could even smell it miles away. The stench of the slavers. They trusted on fear alone.

He had three possible options:

First, barricading the food storage wouldn't really work as he had too many to fit into the storage. Perhaps a barricade of the entrance would work.

Second, luring the enemy into the narrow corridor to force them into a disadvantageous battle by attacking the rear and the head.

Third, storming every quarter while using the numerical superiority to overwhelm smaller units.

Lelouch would pick the first or second options, but a thought stopped him from choosing them. Where was the ship at the moment? Was it close to a dock? All unknown variables.

The first and second options were all based on these unknowns which meant he discarded them instantly. Too many unknowns involved would destabilize the plan. In other words, the chance of failure would increase.

He decided.

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Author's Note:

I hope the information wasn't too much. Well, as I edited it, I thought to exclude that part, but another thought struck me: It served as a distraction for Lelouch darker thoughts and Lelouch's mind goes often in a tangent.

I hope I paced it correctly. Well, it's a little slow, but well you decide.

Also, use the insults in your daily lives: Līve, Rene.

And of course, tell me what you liked, or not liked.