(I'm at college right now y'all, so I don't know when this will be uploaded and when the next update will be. Sorry, hope y'all like this.)

Noble Six: Thanks.

OfficialUSMWriter: His training is/will be…complicated. Like I said earlier in the story: all the heroes are dead (sadly), including Deadpool (if you see the Deadpool Kills Deadpool comics, you see he can die…ironically enough…) Warriors/rebels of the past, they have chosen to teach Connell the ways of battle, to combat the evil tyranny in America. None of the spirits will be the heroes Gyrich, Maria Hill, and the government/S.H.I.E.L.D. slaughtered, sorry (wanted this to be something different, though I guess it is kind of dumb). I hated myself for writing that part with Humphrey...Yeah, S.H.I.E.L.D. aren't the good guys…though often they aren't always.

Chapter 12: A Reason to Fight

(Adirondack Park, the next day)

Connell slept in his sleeping bag within the tent, grunting it slightly discomfort as he tossed and turned, his head not entirely to this new way of sleeping, despite having the pill he'd managed to scavenge from his dorm room. He grumbled as he slept awkwardly. He was suddenly woken by the sound of metal clanging against metal. He grumbled and growled as he opened the tent, looking out of it to see the spirit of Spartacus standing a yard away, a spectral gladius sword and round shield in his hands.

"Up. Now." Spartacus ordered.

Connell grumbled under his breath in annoyance, but crawled out of the tent and stood up.

"Form these blades. Now." Spartacus ordered, his demeanor like a drill instructor.

Connell grumbled in annoyance, but closed his eyes. He did his best to focus, trying to concentrate on creating the spectral blades. Spartacus growled in annoyance.

"FORM THEM! NOW!" Spartacus roared, his voice void of any humor.

Connell's eyes narrowed in annoyance, and continued to try to focus. Spartacus growled in annoyance then anger, patience wearing thin. The young man grumbled as his hands now held dual gladius blades.

"Your enemy will not wait for you to prepare, boy. War is not always honorable, battle is death and hell. Not everyone will fight by a code of conduct." Spartacus stated, walking past his student.

"I know…I've always known." Connell replied.

"Do you, truly?" Spartacus grunted, yet his voice slightly softer in tone.

"I watched my friend die…right in front of me." Connell replied, voice invoking his raising irritation.

"So have I, I've lost more friends than you could imagine. Good men and women, slaughtered by the Romans! My wife…she…she…" Spartacus grumbled, not able to finish his response.

"I…I'm…" Connell started to say.

"No…enough of this self-pity, it will not help defeat these tyrants. And form your blade and shield!" Spartacus hissed.

Connell looked at his hands, the spectral gladius and shield were gone. He also noted the temperature also went cold. He guessed it was because of the spirit's anger and frustration. The young man focused, breathing slowly and calmly like Musashi advised. The sword and shield appeared, his eyes lingering on the shield, thoughts going to someone…specific.

"Daydreaming?" Spartacus grunted, placing his blade under his pupil's chin.

Connell narrowed his eyes in annoyance, moving his chin away from the blade. Despite not being actual steel, Connell could feel the sharp edge of the blade as if it was truly metal and not ethereal. He felt he might have lost a hair or two from his stubbled chin. He turned to the spirit.

"That will get you killed." Spartacus grunted, eyes narrowed as he leveled his sword at his student.

Connell grunted as he stepped a bit to the side, eyes on his teacher. Spartacus didn't move.

"Well come on, boy!" Spartacus grunted.

Connell walked forward, and Spartacus grumbled as he raced forward. The spirit jabbed with his gladius, Connell responded by blocking with his shield. The spirit quickly slammed his shield into Connell's chest, sending him tumbling backwards and onto the ground. Connell grumbled and growled as he got back onto his feet, his hands still holding his ethereal blade and shield. They both rushed forward. Spartacus jabbed with his gladius again, but Connell side stepped the attack then surged forward with his shield before him. Spartacus planted his feet firms and held his shield up. Connell bashed into his teacher, but the spirit didn't move.

"Harder boy! Strike. Harder!" Spartacus grunted, pushing off his pupil then slammed into Connell as he stumbled back with his own shield.

Connell grunted as he fell to the ground again.

"Up. Up! Up!" Spartacus grunted, motioning his blade for Connell to stand up and fight again.

The young man grunted as he got back onto his feet, eyes narrowed in anger. He turned to the spirit, teeth clenched and a growl reverberating through his throat. Spartacus grunted as he rushed forward. Connell stayed still, waiting. Spartacus grunted as he thrust his shield forward, Connell blocking with his own in response. The spirit of the former gladiator quickly side stepped to the right and pulled away his shield, tripping his pupil up. As Connell struggled to gain his balance, Spartacus slammed his right elbow into Connell's back. The young man grunted in frustration as he hit the ground. He coughed and grunted as he spat grass from his mouth.

"Are you learning anything, boy?" Spartacus asked, walking around the young man who was stilling wiping his face off.

"That you're better than me? I figured that from day one." Connell answered, frustration building in his voice.

"No, try again." Spartacus grunted.

Connell grumbled as he got back onto his feet, rubbing his mouth off with one of his arms.

"That I'll get my ass kicked by those who are more skilled and experienced than I am?" Connell asked, his gaze turning to the spirit.

"The fight will be hard, brutal, and unforgiving. You'll face foes that are more powerful, more organized, more well equipped… what you will face in the future…will be greater in force than you. Every battle will become harder to overcome as time goes on. When I rebelled against Rome, my allies and I battled worse odds as time progressed. I lost friends with every battle…and my heart was weighed with more doubt and anger…" Spartacus stated, his voice rising and falling with different emotions.

Connell's gaze dropped slightly, thoughts and feelings wandering some on what he was hearing.

"But you know kept me…what us…going was?" Spartacus asked, turning to his pupil.

Connell then looked back at him.

"What?" Connell asked.

"Freedom…that's what drove us…defined us…all slaves, from gladiators to house servants, every man and woman who were in chains in one way or another fought for our freedom. With every scar before and after…the belief that we'd be truly free of Rome made kept us fighting…for all of us. We couldn't give up, couldn't let the Romans take us back without a fight…that's what you will need to fight for, boy." Spartacus elaborated, memories of his past flooding back to him and fueling his words.

Connell nodded in understanding. Spartacus nodded then turned and took a few steps then disappeared as if a wind blew away his essence like a mist.

To be continued…

(Again, sorry for the late update.)