Jesus Triumphant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 8) Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    Herod the Great, the first Jewish client king under Augustus Caesar, had been a conniving sell-out to Rome. Because of his Idumean or Edomite ancestry, he claimed Abrahamic heritage. But in truth, the Edomites were sons of Esau who were prophesied to be in perpetual hostility with the sons of Jacob, or Israel. Herod’s contempt toward the seed of Abraham was evident in his absorption of pagan Hellenistic culture. He had poured millions of shekels into Greco-Roman building projects all around Judea and Galilee. He had even put a Roman theater and Hippodrome for chariot racing and games into the holy city of Jerusalem. Though he was loathed by many Jews for his Roman sympathies, he established a Hellenist influence within the land of Israel that would no doubt last for generations. The rabbis condemned the games and circuses, but many common Jews still attended them, just as many commoners still worshipped Asherah and Ba’al, despite the pleas of their prophets and priests. Mobs were not easily swayed from their depraved appetites by the elite.
    Demas picked up his spear and whip to face his next adversary—or more accurately, adversaries . An iron gate lifted and two huge black wolves padded their way toward him. They spotted their human prey and immediately froze low to the ground, preparing to strike.
    Behind Demas, the rusty sounds of another iron gate cranking open drew his surprise. A gigantic monster lumbered out. A nine foot tall, twelve hundred pound brown bear. A very hungry bear, who now spotted its meal.
    Demas panicked. He was supposed to hunt these animals one after another in sequence, not all at once. Someone must have betrayed him. Maybe one of the other jealous bestiarii. Or maybe someone who just wanted a darker thrill at seeing the animal baiting champion be taken down in a fury of fang and claw. None of that mattered now. Now, he had to think. He had to strategize.
    His planning was pierced through with the sound of yet another iron gate lifting. A fourth predator? He wouldn’t stand a chance. He glanced over his left shoulder to get a glimpse of the new enemy. An African lion. The king of the arena. What was worse, he recognized the huge seven-foot-long feline from his animal keeping. He had nicknamed him Crueldis. The giant lion had killed so many bestiarii he had become a legend. Demas had gotten familiar with the creature while caring for it. He fed it and nursed its wounds from previous hunts. But now, that big pet cat was going to eat him for dinner.
    Oh well, he was ready to die anyway. The crowd was already in a frenzy. The only thing that would stop this approaching violence was Demas’ death. He decided to make this the most glorious death in the arena for decades to come. He would give the mob their entertainment.
    He would go down fighting.
    He held his spear in his left hand and unfurled his whip to face the wolves. The bear would watch and take its time, the lion might even be next. Take out the smallest foes first.
    But “small” did not capture the essence of these ferocious wolves. They were orchestrated and vicious. And they were ravenously hungry.
    The thinner one snarled in front of Demas as the other one circled to his rear.
    He thrust his spear out, the skinny one backed up.
    He twirled his whip overhead and snapped it behind him without even looking. It was one of the tricks he had developed over the years.
    The crack of the whip drew a howl and a large piece of bloody flesh from the wolf. The ragged iron cracker tips did their job.
    Uh oh. The bear approached cautiously from the left.
    The lion circled the battle, looking for a way in. He circled closer and closer. This would not go well.
    The thinner wolf advanced to draw Demas’ attention, at the same moment that the wounded rear one launched onto his back.
    Demas felt fangs dig into his whip arm shoulder. He yelped in pain and went down to the ground. He could hear his attackers’ angry growling at his