《Veni, Vidi, Vici - Rise of Rome in Another World》


 Enkyklios Paideia

    "Centurion" : A man responsible for the well being and training of the men in his century. Often considered the best fight in said century, the centurion is considered as the highest rank in the century.


    "Century" : A term used in the Roman military context to define a combat group of 100 men.


    "Circus Maximus" : It was the first and largest entertainment venue in Rome. Mainly hosted large chariot racing events.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "Greek" : Was considered the language of the learning man. Thus being used by people in power as a formal language for politics and the such.


    "Latin" : The mainstay language used by most in the Italian peninsula after Roman Domination.


    "Forum Boarium" : The cattle market of Rome, it was located in between the river Tiber and Capitoline, Palatine, and Avantine hills.


    "Temple of Jupiter" : A temple dedicated to the roman God Jupiter, symbolises "sovereignty and immortality" of Rome.

 Chapter 0: The new Consul

    A cold breeze awakens a man sleeping on a desk filled with papers stacked high.


    "H-huh?! Where am I?"


    He mutters almost forgetting what he was doing at the time.


    "Oh yeah, I remember now. I have to go meet with the senate"


    Shambling off his desk, he grabs a hefty piece of cloth hanging on a wall and walks towards a bucket of water on the corner of the room intending to wash his face, still pondering on what else he was doing before falling asleep. Paying it no mind for now, he splashes cold water multiple times, rubbing his eyes before eventually moving on to the rest of his face. Still feeling out of it, he looks out towards the window to his right, his blurry eyes fixate on the antics of the children playing on the streets downhill, the vendors aggressively promoting their goods, the Centurion inspecting equipment, the Circus Maximus��


    "Wait, the what and the what now?"


    Startled, he quickly rubs his eyes in confusion, he looks out again to clarify what he has seen. Astonished to find out that he was not seeing an illusion, he pokes his neck outside the window and started frantically moving his head from side to side, scanning the environment. He can''t believe but notice that he was in the middle of a late republican city center of Rome. Everything was there, the temples of Jupiter, the River gate of the Tiber, the Forum Boarium. Despite being both amazed and confused at the situation he found himself in, he noticed that something was off. The scenery he saw was irrefutably late republican Rome, but upon closer inspection the buildings look worn down, the people look downtrodden, and the children he saw playing earlier are malnourished.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "What is this? This doesn''t look like Rome"


    The man asks himself, his mind still processing what he just witnessed, his eyes dart towards the palms of his hands. In seemingly deep focus, a massive headache hit him moments later, leading him to stumble onto the ground, eyes shut with his hands gripping his head. Pained, he notices a vaguely familiar book next to him and barely managing to read the title.


    "Veni, Vidi, Vici��"


    It was then that the headache stopped, and memories quickly started to return. His name was Julius Fondatore, a 28-year-old Phd graduate in Roman History from the Sapienza University of Rome. One day when he was on his way to get his breakfast at a nearby caf��, he noticed a new bookstore that just opened, and in the top selling fantasy section in display was a new novel entitled, "Veni, Vidi, Vici �C Rise of Rome in Another World". He bought this book intending to read it while enjoying breakfast, but as he paid for the novel and was about to exit the establishment the ceiling suddenly collapsed crushing him unconscious.


    He sat up with his newly found clarity, monologuing to himself in silence.


    "So I woke up after being unconscious in a depressing late republican Rome after buying that random ass fantasy novel?"


    He holds himself from laughing hysterically like a madman.


    "Ha ha ha��What a jo-"


    His thoughts got cut off by the voice of an unfamiliar man behind him.


    "Consul Julius, the senate has been assembled."


    Confused, Julius replies.


    "The senate has what now?"


    The man witnessing a strange situation attempts to keep a straight face despite noticing his disheveled consul on the ground.


    "The senate, lord Consul, they have assembled."


    Julius points at himself while looking towards the direction of the man.


    "Lord Consul��Me?"


    Unsure of what to say, the man reads the situation and logically concludes that the lord Consul fell and has hit his head rather hard.


    "Y-yes lord Consul��your term has just started and today is your inaugural meeting with the senate"


    Unable to cope with the reality of what he found himself into, Julius can''t help but sigh in defeat.


    "HaH ha ha��What a joke"

 Chapter 1: The "Noble" People of Rome

    "It is not these well-fed long haired men that I fear, but the pale and hungry looking." - Gaius Julius Caesar Plutarch-Antony 11.3


    Some time after the still shocking revelation of his current predicament, Julius managed gather himself together and prepare for the meeting with the senate. Fixing his hair and donning his toga, he exits his chambers to meet the gaze of the man he met earlier. Still not knowing what or who this man supposed to be, Julius cautioned himself into not asking such questions, as he himself still does not know who he even is currently. Many thoughts already went through his mind as he was preparing in his chambers.


    "Who am I?"


    "Whose body is this?"


    "He said my name was Julius?"


    All questions he wanted to ask, but chose not to, as he does not want to attract unwanted attention minutes into this supposed newfound world and reality.


    "Shall we proceed to the Curia lord consul?"


    The man asks, still seemingly taken aback from the events earlier. Julius nods in response to this question. The man steps aside and gestures for Julius to take the lead. As both men began making their way towards the curia, they pass by 3 pairs of armed men seemingly equipped as guards stationed in set intervals going down the hill. Noticing Julius as he passes, each pair paces themselves a comfortable distance from him. Surprised, Julius thinks to himself regarding the odd number of guards.


    "Since I am the consul, I take that these guards are the lictors assigned to me."


    "That would mean that the man who I met earlier should also be a lictor."


    "Making their total number to be 7... strange..."


    "There are supposed to the 12 lictors guarding the consul in every public appearance..."


    "But I suppose it would not be necessary to have 12 people accompany me in walking towards the curia."


    Entering the street he saw earlier, Julius takes notice of how truly grim the state of the citizens are. Most of the citizens seem downtrodden, the men either starving or disabled, the women either begging or desperately trying to sell their bodies for money or food. The children look the healthiest, but even then, bordering the state of malnutrition. It is not outlandish to assume that whatever scraps of change or food these families get clearly go to nourishing their children however they can.


    How very noble...How very sad...


    Old men either alone or in groups grumble and complain about the state of affairs. Some, who seem rather deranged wallow in the shadows of the alleyways. It was then that one of these seemingly deranged old men lashed out and grabbed one of the children that Julius noticed were playing earlier.


    "YOU have food kid?! I see that bag you have there!"


    The man shouts hysterically demanding the food from the child, frantically grabbing the bag intending to take it.


    "N-no! its for my mama!"


    The young one shouts back desperately resisting the actions of the man. His figure far too small and his strength far too weak to fight back against the adrenaline aided clutches of an old man who has nothing. The insane codger rips the bag from the you one''s arms, tearing a hole open from his overgrown finger nails. Grains of wheat began pouring from the seam, the child shouts in horror.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "No!!!"


    Eyes seeing no direction but the path of desperate greed, the old man gathers the grains along with dirt and dust of the streets with his hands. He smiles as he eyes the feast in his palms. In one fell swoop he consumes what few grams of grain he could hold in his grip, left...right...left...right, he continues on and on restlessly trying to grab hold of more and more. At a certain point, one wonders if it was still even grain he was shoving down his mouth, it could very well have just been dirt and he still would not have stopped. It was very clear that he has truly lost his mind.


    Oblivious to the child next to him. The young one was wailing, bashing his fists at the man with whatever strength he had left, pulling the whole ridden piece of cloth of a garment the psycho adorns.


    "PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!"


    Their cries could seemingly be heard from many blocks way. So desperate...so hopeless...so...defeated. They know the deed has been done, they know that the food is gone, the food...that in his poor little heart, wanted to give to his mother...no...needed...to give to his mother. The child may have not been starving, but he knew his mother was, he knew that if he was not able to bring back food, even if it was just a crumb, his mother would not have long left in this world...in his life. So there he was...begging...screaming...pleading, with the man, pleading with ANYONE, the Gods, their friends, the people, the lictors, to Julius...anyone, to help him...refusing to accept the reality the world has given him...how very noble.


    Any other person who was born and exposed to the cultures and reality of the times would have understood that this was a common occurrence. In Julius''s context, it was the days before common era, many people from all over the world could have been starving. Cases such as these were not unheard of, as such, most would have turned a blind eye and ignore the cries and pleas of one child. But Julius was not of this era, he came from a time of relative peace and undeniable prosperity. In his world, almost everyone lived in relative well being, in his view, nobody should be doing such a thing, especially towards a child, and in his mind, such behaviours and actions are reprehensible, cruel, incomprehensible...inhumane...


    "These people are supposed to Romans, the glorious, proud, noble Romans..."


    He whispered to himself with a heavy heart, his hand clutched and his eyes seething with rage. He knew very well of the context of these times...he knew that such things are not uncommon for the era...he spent 10 years of his live researching about the past, about Rome...he knew...but a part of his ideas and fantastical view of Rome privy to his contemporary life, this almost delusionary expectation of the people of Rome, the NOBLE people of Rome, broke...


    A chord broke within Julius, he could not accept that there was even a thought of such a thing happening in the great city of Rome, let alone it being a reality playing in front of him right now...he was in denial...THIS angered him, it angered him so much that he lunged and towards the old man screaming profanities in modern Italian. This sudden unexpected bout of rage surprised not only his retinue of lictors, but the people in the area.


    "You foul wretch!"


    He screamed, understandable only to him and him alone. The old man, non the wiser, suddenly got met with a kick square to his face. He falls down to his side bracing the area where he just got hit. Julius kept stomping and kicking the man, he did not bother to aim...well more like he was too blinded by rage to do so...he stomped on the man wherever and whenever he could. Panicked and confused, his lictors try and fail to pull Julius off the beaten man. In a desperate attempt of retaliation, the old man grabs Julius''s leg, almost leading Julius to fall. It was then at that moment when the lictors noticed his attempt and finally brandished their blades against the man. No words were spoken anymore, the arm of the old man was slashed and maimed, bone almost visible to the naked eye. His grip was loosened and the consul''s leg was free.


    Realizing what just happened, the manic rage of the consul was stopped, Julius composed himself in front of the people and faced the child. To the shock and we of all who were watching. He knelt down in one knee intending to console the child.


    "Worry not little one, you shall have your grain..."


    Julius stands up, his dignified figure and stare filled with conviction, grabbed the attention of everyone. He looks around the crowd and proclaims in a sound voice.


    "And so will all of you."


    "Prepare to distribute my share of the stock in the granaries, have it all distributed to the people."


    "Leave no share for myself"


    Not knowing how to respond the order''s of the new consul, the lictor from before asks while baffled.


    "Lord Consul?"


    Somewhat annoyed and still partially enraged at the old man, Julius simply responds.


    "I will not repeat myself."


    Stricken and moved by weight of his words, the lictor quickly replied.


    "YES CONSUL JULIUS!"


    Everyone who bore witness to such an event had many possible reactions...confusion...uncertainty...fear...awe...wonder. Cheers from the crowd suddenly erupted, shouting his name. Praise was given from every corner of the area, the child elated, the old man mortified, the lictors surprised...and a man watching from afar...intrigued...

 Chapter 2: Cursus Honorum

    "Virtue clearly does want honor, nor is there any other reward for virtue. Yet it accepts that reward graciously, rather than making a strenuous demand for it." - Marcus Tullius Cicero On the Republic-Book 3


    The declaration that Julius made spread like wildfire through the masses. Many who heard the news immediately sang songs of praise for the new supposed magnanimuos consul.


    "Did you hear? The new consul ordered his lictors to ration out more food!"


    "I heard that it would be HIS share to be given out!"


    Some, especially those who were not present to witness his actions, declare their doubts.


    "Bah! so what?! more handfuls of grain to be given to the starving, how gracious..."


    "Does he think himself as Ceres?! Nothing changes!"


    To them, it just seemed like a publicity stunt for the new consul to gain the trust of the people. Discourse propagates across the community, the opinion of the people are split. But one thing is certain, the name of the new consul, Julius, has already made a mark in Rome.


    In the meantime, Julius and his retinue continue on their way to the curia. Having managed to escape from the large crowd he created earlier, he ponders to himself as he walks up the steps leading up to the entrance of said curia.


    "Clearly, there is something very wrong with THIS Rome..."


    "Almost everything has gone to shit."


    He looks up, gazing at the grand ionic order arches that line the entrance of the meeting hall. The historian within Julius could not help but marvel at such majestic classical architecture. But yet, he notices a stark contrast between the state of the curia compared to the rest of the buildings he has seen on his way there. The curia was very well maintained, first he thought that since it was the property of the senate, it would have been understandable for it to be noticeably more pristine and well kept, but the difference was for too drastic. The communal buildings and houses were all teetering on the edge of disrepair, while the curia looks almost brand new. To Julius, it was a clear sign that there was corruption afoot, he only hoped that it would not be so severe. Upon entering the hall, it did not take long for Julius to realize, that It was much worse than anything he could have imagined.


    The muffled sound of laughter could already be heard steps away from the doors. As soon as the two great wooden doors get pushed open by his lictors, a cacophony of voices and sounds could be heard from all around. Resembling more of a market or plaza, the curia was no longer a place of civility, virtue, and honor in the name of politics. Instead, it was a place where the wealthy go to flaunt their possessions and gossip about their personal matters. Even the sanctity expected of such a place was broken in more ways than one, senators sat with food served in front of them, prostitutes are dancing at the center as entertainment, some, even threw themselves at the arms of certain senators who seem very wealthy.


    This sight was not only appalling to Julius, it was downright disgusting and depraved. He was not a stranger to the antics of politicians, he was born in a time where politics strived like no other, but even the worst of the worst politicians in his time were leagues above in terms of decorum compared to these animals. Were it not for his understanding of the legislative nature of Rome, he would have had almost all of these men kicked out of the building, there were only a handful of individuals who still kept proper decorum. But even then, they seemed to have opted to turn a blind eye and ignore the circus in front of them, defeated at the reality they face. Among these people, one man familiar man caught the eye of Julius, leading to both exchanging gazes with one another. That man was none other than Marcus Licinius Crassus, the richest man in Rome at the time.


    "Order to all dignitaries! we are in the presence of a consul."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Crassus shouts, catching the attention of all who were present. His voice garnering a considerable amount of power, as in the eyes of the corrupt and greedy members of the senate. He who holds the most wealth deserved the most respect. This idea is not surprising considering their perspective, as garnering the favor of Crassus could lead to many future opportunities to increase one''s wealth. This respect would then lead to the individual that he wished to deem some sort of importance to, the new consul, Julius.


    "Welcome to your inaugural meeting with the senate consul Julius."


    "I would like to start with wishing you luck in your term."


    Crassus follows with a dignified tone, setting an example in the eyes of Julius, to be one of the few who seemingly follows the cursus honorum. Those who were seated around him, all also bowed their heads as a sign of recognition to the new consul. Everyone else merely put a glance at Julius, some even rolled their eyes seemingly fed up with upholding their own twisted version of the cursus honorum with Crassus at the top, the new consul was being ignored. Silence filled the room for a moment, until one man laughs playfully, his laughter echoes throughout the hall. Julius looks towards the direction of the man, and recognized him as Quintus Caecilius Metellus Pius.


    "Ha ha ha ha, how wonderous! I welcome our new martyr into office!"


    This statement perplexed Julius, he thought to himself.


    "Martyr? me?"


    "What does he mean by that?"


    While still lost in his train of thought, the more and more people joined Quintus in his amusement, laughing and some even cheering along with him. While Crassus and those around him stayed silent. This made Julius realize that the senate was split into two parties, those who align themselves with the ideals of Crassus, and those who align themselves with the ideal of Quintus. Julius is confused at this revelation however, Quintus is supposed to be a pius man, this...thing and those who follow him are far from what one would consider as pius.


    Having finally collected his thoughts. Julius opens up the forum for discussion.


    "It is my honor to serve as the new consul. Let us now start with the first agenda I wish to address."


    Many thoughts went through Julius''s head, many questions he would have wished to have answered. But first, he must get to the bottom of the truth behind the sorry state of the City.


    "Regarding the people-"


    Julius''s words got cut off by the now familiar voice of Quintus.


    "I wish to stop you right there consul."


    "You are dismissed."


    A confused Julius replied.


    "Dismissed? what do you mean dismissed?"


    Annoyed, Quintus begrudging told him.


    "Today is your inauguration meeting, in days like these, the only agenda is to share our greetings."


    In a tone that conveyed the idea that Julius should have already known this, the words of quintus sparked more laughter from his crowd. Who all went back to whatever it was they were doing before the announcement of Crassus, tending to their women, eating their food...reverting the curia back to the market like environment it was earlier.


    Silently, Crassus directed his gaze towards the bewildered Julius. Observing the rather odd new consul who seemed unfamiliar with their customs. Not long after doing so, he stood up intending to exit the rowdy environment of the hall as soon as possible. Along with him followed those people around him not too far apart from his exit, not even showing a bit of sympathy or acknowledgement to the man paralyzed at the depressing realty in front of him.


    In that room, the cursus honorum no longer existed. The only person who still respects it is Julius himself...and there he was, unable to find the words to describe the situation he finds himself in. In that moment, every fiber of his being desperately wanted to condemn the people he considered as animals in front of him. He wanted to scream...He wanted to shout...He wanted...to walk up to every single one of these fat pigs and deliver his own sense of justice for the people who are suffering outside while they hold out in this building with an abundance of food and comfort. Julius now knew the reason for the horrid disparity of the buildings, he now knew what rendered the noble people of Rome into the starving hopeless people that they are right now.


    In the end, he did nothing...he couldn''t do anything...he knew that anything that he did right then and there, would only serve to hurt him severely in the future. He knows how the Roman system works, and thus he kept himself from being guided by his rage. Julius turned around to exit the building, his lictors following quickly behind him. As he reaches the bottom of the curia''s steps, he looks back at the majestic building, gazing upon its beauty exterior in stark contrast to the ugly human beings it holds within. He thinks back to the people he saw earlier, to the child, even to the old man. Vindictively, Julius thinks out aloud.


    "Its a shame that animals are governing a human city..."


    The lictors, hearing what he said, tried their hardest to ignore it and act like nothing had happened. But deep inside, they knew that Julius had spoken the words that they never could bring themselves to say, and Julius knew...that the cursus honorum no longer existed within these walls...

 Chapter 3: Julius Fondatore, The Roman

    "Adapt yourself to the life you have been given, and truly love the people with whom destiny has surrounded you."


    - Marcus Aurelius Meditations


    In the afternoon of his inauguration day, Julius finds himself back at the familiar room he woke up to earlier. Understanding the context about who he was, Julius now recognizes this room to be his study. It was clean yet disorderly, there were papers stacked on one side of the worktable held down by a piece of lumber. Opposite to the stack, many quills can be found holstered on what looks like a small, repurposed vase accompanied by an inkwell next to it. Beyond the stable lied a towering bookshelf. Displayed there is a vast array of books, ledgers, and scrolls.


    Having nowhere else to turn to for answers, Julius sought to find them himself. He quickly skimmed through the many documents available to him in that room, and it was not long before he finds some books and words that seem��out of place.


    "The Fae section? What the��"


    "*Compendium of the Elvish Tongue*...*Dwarven Craft Codex*?...*Orcish war Signals*?!"


    The more he looked the more he got lost. Seeing all of these words related to fantasy fiction only added more questions. This frustrated Julius just as much as it sadistically fuelled his curiosity.


    "What in the name of all that is holy is this?!"


    Julius proclaimed, scratching his head as he furrowed his brows. While he was attempting to process the information, he pauses for a moment to calm himself down, eyes closed, head looking up towards the ceiling. Julius takes in a deep breath before exhaling rather defeatedly, he opens his eyes and notices a large rolled up piece of parchment hiding behind two boxes at the top of the book shelf. Unable to reach it, he quickly scours the room for either a ladder or a stool. Realizing that he could just use his study chair, Julius prompted himself upwards, successfully bringing down the rather heavy piece of parchment from the top.


    It was quite dusty, the roll being held down by a slim flax rope. When he tried to untie it, the flimsy piece of rope snapped in half, leading to a violent unraveling of the parchment. Dust clouded the area, making Julius cough as he covered his mouth while frantically waving his hand to clear the dust. When it finally settled, he couldn''t believe his eyes, a world map presenting the current regions met the inquisitive eyes of Julius. The map had been entitled, "Tabula Mundi". Familiar with the term, his eyes immediately looked to find Rome, and near the very center of the map, he found it...


    "Roma..."


    Now knowing the geographical location of Rome, Julius went on to scan the map thoroughly. Many notable settlements on the map come unfamiliar to Julius.


    "*Hearth of Dumathoin*, *Yggdrasil*, *Landv?ttir*..."


    He lists out the names as he goes along the map to the north. The map portrays vague dashes dividing the areas around these landmarks, looking as if to show that these areas are under the domain of whatever nation they represent. Many other smaller names for what seemed like cities and towns could also be found around the described territory of each region. Looking down south, a large dessert caught his eye, what was very interesting , however, was that the coastal area of the dessert seemed to transition into a lush jungle region the further you go down south, with many islands varying in sizes off the coast.


    "*Sahel al-Kubr��*, *Cuauhtlah stx''otx''alq''inal*, *Nusantaria*..."


    Out of all of these mystical almost legendary sounding areas, what surprised Julius the most was the area around the center of the the map, there were no major labels declaring territory, only city states. Of which have names much more familiar to Julius...This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    To the east.


    " *Spartiates*, *Hellenes*, *Mackednoi*..."


    To the west.


    " *Hispania*, *Tartessia*, *Isca Celtae*..."


    Julius gravitated to these names naturally, as they all seem to carry a name closely related to historical places back in his world. This sense of off putting familiarity put Julius through a state of disarray, within context of his old world, surely, none of this is real, that it was all made up, that these books and names must be a prank of some sort. But within the context of THIS reality, there was enough evidence to say otherwise. There was no reason to fabricate such an elaborate narrative, especially considering that these were all found in the study of a consul.


    Julius simply wanted to deny this reality, he feared this sense of unfamiliarity to his world, and so, fuelled by an almost primal fear, like a desperate man yearning for self preservation. He scoured the books containing information about this word, for what seemed like days, he read through many books and papers, and yet again, the more he looked the more questions he had with no answer. It was a never ending cycle of discovery, he wanted to learn more, he wanted to read, he wanted to do research, more...more...more...Eventually, this fear of unfamiliarity turned into joy, the desperate man turned into a giddy young child stumbling into a playground for the first time in their life.


    Julius was a historian, but more than that, he was a scholar. It was second nature for him to yearn to acquire more and more knowledge. To read, to understand, to imagine, to apply, despite the fear of the unknown and the many dangers it may present. He was never one to back down in the face of adversity, be it from others, and especially from himself. To take on a challenge, fail, and then try again. In that way, he never could have been more Roman.


    The day became night and the night became day. Unable to sleep, Julius spent all time from the afternoon of his inauguration to the morning of the day after learning. At this point, he wasn''t just learning about the world, but also this version of Rome, "Roma". The city, its people, the current senate members, the active duty personnel, and most importantly...the people closest to him, his lictors. He went through each and every single one of their files, finding out their history and who they were to Julius prior to his transmigration. It was then when he finally found out the name of the first lictor he met.


    "Marcus Antonius...Mark Anthony?"


    He repeated to himself. Julius, then, had a sudden realization, never before has he made the connection, perhaps it was due to the confusion and chaos that occupied his mind at the time, but his name being "Julius", confirmed by reply of the a lictor the other day, was no coincidence. Crassus, Quintus, and now, Mark Anthony. It all made sense to him now, in this world he was supposed to be THE Gaius Julius Caesar, the one to bring the Roman republic to the brink of empire...The Grand Conqueror. Julius Fondatore, a 28-year-old Italian historian, is supposed to fill in the shoes for one of the greatest romans to ever live. His new found elation then again became fear, not of unknown, but of his own thoughts of self deprecating inadequacy.


    "Im...Julius Ceasar...I am, supposed...to be...Julius Caesar."


    He makes multiple pauses while saying that world shattering statement. Overwhelmed, bewildered, scared...these are the kinds of emotions one would expect to find from someone in this situation. The pressure would have been too much for a normal person to handle. Julius, however, was not a normal person.


    The moment he got introduced to the concept of Rome at the age of 9, he became obsessed, carrying this obsession along with him to now at 28. He was amazed and dumbfounded by this great empire and its people, the many wars it fought, the vast lands it conquered, the glory of the city and its people, its eventual downfall, he has studied ALL of it. By the time he finished writing his dissertation, he had done and experienced everything that his world could offer in regards to the Rome. His journey would have soon come to an end, he has already climbed the peak of his own Everest. But now, as he looked over the peak, there lied a vast valley leading to the base of an even bigger mountain. A whole new world with an entirely new Rome has presented itself to him. How could he NOT get excited?


    So he smiled...he smiled and laughed, becoming restless as time goes by. No fear nor sense of being overwhelmed to be found, his body may have been shaking, was it because of fear? or was it because of excitement? But his mind was clear, his knowledge, his SOUL, was ready...Ready to lead a broken city into glory as it so happened in his old world. Ready to become the Roman he never knew he ever wanted to be...to be Julius...Julius Caesar of Rome.


    In his moment of envisioned glory, the now familiar voice of Mark Anthony grabs his attention.


    "Lord Consul! There has been an emergency! The senate has assembled again."

 Chapter 4: Aftermath...

    "Anger is a brief madness: govern your mind [temper], for unless it obeys, it commands" - Quintus Horatius Flaccus Odes of Horace


    It was a bright and sunny day, the warm rays of the sun piercing through the leaves of the stone pine. The birds chirp, singing a pleasant melody as the cool breeze of the wind flow through the Roman country side. On the horizon, a column of what looks like to be a military expedition force could be seen. They march down the dirt path leading to the city, it was such a wonderful morning, these poor tired soldiers must have been enjoying their trek back to the city...the cool breeze...the warm sunlight...the beautiful song of the birds, singing, almost as if they were heralding the soldier''s return. That morning, would have been the venue to witness to a grand scene of humanity, the reunification of a soldier and their family. One could say, that this morning, is a very peaceful morning, both for nature and for man...and yet...The city of Roma...was in uproar...


    Everyone, man and woman, took to the streets, marching towards the forum. Armed and seemingly unified...in their despair. Mothers were weeping, fathers were enraged, and the children dragged along were confused. Just what could have happened for the already unfortunate people of Rome, to come up in arms?


    Their sons, did not come back...


    The ground rumbled as the people gathered up and surrounded the curia.


    "Give them back! Give back our sons!!!"


    "Their blood is in your hands!!!"


    Rocks were thrown at the walls of building, just as much as insults were thrown to sully the names of the senate. More and more vengeful people gathered, preparing to storm the curia with all their might, their furious voices were all that could be heard. It was then that a 5 maniples of triarii marched towards the crowd, they bang their spears against their shields, creating a sound loud enough to pierce the noise of the people. Noticing their approach, a man in his early thirties shouts.


    "They have come to spill more blood!!!"


    "They killed our sons, and now they have come to kill us too!!!"


    The enraged masses rally, they charge towards the maniples, some hesitate, but the sheer number of people around them push them along. They justified this act in the name of revenge for their loved ones, the people knew this was a senseless, they knew that doing this will not bring their dead sons back. They thought that the maniples triarii would only take a defensive stance and block the incoming hoard. But they thought wrong, moments before impact, the triarii brought up their shields and compressed tightly as they readied their spears, pointing them towards the incoming horde. Those in the front of the mod had no time to react, in one moment they were running, charging in the name of their sons, in the next they met the dark and cold grasp of death.


    Mortified, many of those who saw spears piercing through the bodies, stopped, some quickly stumbled and fell to the ground. What they saw was real, the citizen army has turned their weapons towards the people. What was once a crowd driven by anger and revenge, is now driven by the fear of death. Majority, however, did not know of what happened...how could they know? Thus the people at the back kept charging and pushing as the people in the front screamed and cried for help.


    It was chaos...


    The unaware crowd pushed them, they got moved closer and closer to the spears of the triarii...closer and closer...to their deaths. Among them was a young lady, she was first in line for the impending meatgrinder that is the triarii.


    She fell, looking up at the men in armor. A chill moves runs up her spine, it seems that death has come for her. She thinks to herself.


    "Ah..."


    "I die here...huh?"


    "Wait for me brother, we will meet soon..."


    The man who instigated the mob to charge earlier calls out.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "N-no, Flora!!!"


    The triarii''s arm was in motion, his spear was ready to take another life. But it was stopped by a loud voice coming from behind the line maniples.


    "STOP THIS INSOLENCE AT ONCE!!!"


    Confused, the soldiers spun their heads and looked towards the source of the command. It was Julius and his lictors.


    Mark Anthony declares to the triarii...


    "Make way for lord consul Julius!"


    The men were taken aback, unable to respond properly to his arrival. They hesitated for a moment before finally saluting in honor of the consul.


    "Ave consul Julius!"


    They make way for the consul, clearing out a path in their formation to allow the consul to pass...to allow the consul to see what they have done...


    "What..."


    "Has happened..."


    "HERE!"


    The tension dropped, in the chaos, Julius saw the bodies of the dead Roman citizens, their blood splattered on the equipment of the bastards who have taken their lives. The frightened young woman on her knees, and the scoundrel about to take another. Both sides unable to take action, unsure of how to answer the sudden question of the consul. There was silence for a moment. Only the song of the birds could be heard. But like a rubber band stretched to its limits, the silence snapped, broken by the growing unrest of the people as the shock from earlier his earlier question had subsided.


    Thus they started shouting.


    Those who recognised his name, desperately tried to ask for answers from the magnanimous new consul, pleading with him...


    "Consul Julius! What of my son?!"


    "Where is he? Please give him back...please!"


    Those unfamiliar with him, thought he was a part of the senate members who sent their sons to die. Thus they angrily demanded justice, throwing insults at the soldiers and Julius.


    "You pig!!!"


    "Murderer! you and your dogs should go to hell!"


    The officers of the triarii hurriedly tried to explain their side, claiming that this situation was unavoidable, that they had no choice but to resort to killing.


    "Lord consul, we received word from the senate to quell the riot!"


    "They ordered us to use force if needed!"


    Only his lictors, especially Mark Anthony, knew to keep their silence..


    This exchange went on for a while. Many truths and opinions have been shared, the sound was deafening. But Julius could not hear hear anything, to him, the birds stopped singing, the people stopped shouting, the officers stopped stammering...He could only feel, he felt the warm rays of the morning sun, he felt the cool breeze of the wind, he felt an emotion that he could not describe at first.


    Anger...confusion...rage...denial...disgust...pain...disappointment...any of these could have been plausible, any of these words could have explained his emotions. But there was only one word to describe what he was feeling...FURY


    Julius''s mind was in disarray, he did not know what to do, what he SHOULD do, who to blame...he was truly at a loss...he wanted to lash out, but couldn''t...he wanted to ask questions, but couldn''t...he wanted to address the people, but couldn''t...he wanted to scream...but couldn''t. Julius was frozen in place, almost as if he was dead from where he stood. He could not move, not because he was petrified by what he just witnessed, but because he simply did not want to...his eyes stare at the dead corpses, men and women a like, lifeless by his feet. For a moment, he looked towards the people, then, he looked towards the triarii and his lictors, before setting his gaze at the curia.


    Just like the day before, Julius clenched his fists as anger took hold of him, Mark Anthony makes note of this action.


    "Ah, what happened yesterday is about to repeat"


    He readies himself and the other lictors to de escalate the situation. But he then found himself stunned by the realization that his consul''s hand was bloodied. At this point, the only thing that was keeping Julius awake was his adrenaline, he could not feel his hands were bleeding, nor did he care...


    "Marcus..."


    "Let us proceed..."


    With a heavy heart and bloodied hands. Julius ordered his lictors to follow him and head towards the curia. Understanding what the consul wishes to do, responds.


    "Yes, consul Julius"


    Mark Anthony quickly ordered the triarii to stand down and return to their posts, signalling the lictors to make a path for the consul. Julius, however, did not care, he fearlessly treaded towards the mob of people and pushed himself through the rioters. Panicking at the sight of this, Mark Anthony quickly ordered the lictors to immediately go to the side of Julius. That he himself will follow.


    Fully intending to catch up, Mark Anthony hurriedly facilitates the triarii to stand down, ensuring that no more harm could be done to the people. After this he makes his way to catch up before noticing the woman who fell earlier. Her left leg had been broken by the weight of the people behind her earlier. As a chivalrous gesture, Mark Anthony knelt down on one knee, extending his hand to the beaten girl...


    "Allow me to help you-"


    He says before the woman slaps his hand away.


    "Get your bloody hand away from me you wretch!"


    Understanding her perspective, Mark Anthony simply nods and stands up, respecting her wish. He then proceeds to make his way to the curia. Hearing in passing, the voice of her father.


    "Flora! are you ok? Did that dog do anything to you?"


    And thus that morning bore witness to one of the "greatest" things on this earth...the aftermath of human actions...

 Chapter 5: Dictator

    "Rome would never have need of a dictator if she had such men in office, men so united in heart, as ready to obey as to command and contributing glory to the common stock rather than drawing from it in their personal interests"


    - Titus Livy The History of Rome, Books 6-10


    Some made way, others, stood still. As if navigating a dense jungle, Julius finds himself ducking and weaving across the disgruntled crowd of people. At times he gets pushed, at times he gets pulled, always being accompanied by either a question, or insult.


    "Consul Julius! What happened?"


    "Disgusting fucking dog!"


    Julius, treads along. His toga ripped by the hands of the desperate, his body bruised by the fists of those wronged, his face spat on by the whims of the doubtful. He bore no mind to these happenings. As he believes that whatever happens to him is a form of payment for the debts of the senate to the people. He knew that his anger, his pain, his...fury. Should not be directed to those that have been wronged, to the people who have suffered the follies of the senate. To Julius, it was only right for them to take whatever act of justice they could get from him, pulling his hair, shoving him aside, punching him, kicking his legs. HE would take them all, he was WILLING to take them all.


    There are many things that the modern world enjoys over the past, privy to most people is the unending opportunities one gets to feel compassion. There is not as much urgency needed worry of starvation, disease, or war. The people of our time live in a world of development and relative peace. As such, the people of our time, are by far, the most compassionate generation of humans...Julius being one of them.


    So he took it, he took the pain...the anguish...the desperation...the loss, that these people threw in the form of their actions. He understood why they were like this, he understood what caused them to be like this, he knows who were responsible for this, the only thing he didn''t know, was how... how he could fix Rome...how he could help the people...


    Julius was looking at the ground, his head tilted down, almost bowing his head in shame as he marches through the crowd. He then found himself at the foot of the stairs that leads to pillars of the curia. Just like yesterday, he marvelled at the architecture, but only for a fleeting moment. His wonder, turning it conviction, Julius knew what he must do, who he must confront, in order to get to the bottom of everything. As he ascended the "honored" flight of stairs, he hears the shouts and quarrels of the now familiar voices of the senators. Worried, chaotic, and broken. Arriving at the top, through these doors lie the root of all of Rome''s problems...the cancer that fed on the noble people of Rome...The senate...


    Behind him, Julius heard the voices of his lictors. Mark Anthony, notably, not being one of them.


    "Consul Julius!"


    One one screamed, all seemingly tired from waving past the rioting mass.


    "My consul, your toga! Its in tatters!"


    Remarked one lictor, as he motioned to offer his own toga for Julius to wear.


    "There is no need..."


    Julius replied, as he waved his hand, denying the lictor''s gesture. Instead, his eyes got attracted to the worn down piece of lorica musculata, leaning against the walls of the curia. One wonders how this piece of equipment found itself here, maybe, a general returning from this morning left it here to be scrapped, or perhaps, the senate considered it as junk and threw it out. But whatever the case may be, almost as if guided by the arms of fate, this piece, rendered down like a sick depiction...mirroring the current state of Rome...found itself in the gaze of the eyes of Julius.


    In an effort to adhere to his cursus honorum, Julius dons the withered chest piece, covering his torn toga tears as well has his bruises. He looks towards his lictors and says.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Let us proceed..."


    Swiftly his lictors nod and went on to push open the wooden doors in front of him. Releasing the chaotic discourse of voices from within the curia.


    "What should we do now?! We have nothing left!"


    "The people are rioting! and we only have a handful of triarii left!"


    They scream, in a state of panic, as they ponder upon the recent news that has reached their ears. The members, who have aligned themselves to Quintus, cynically points out...


    "The great Pompey is dead! it is time we surrender ourselves to capitulation!"


    "Three times we have tried, and THREE times we have failed! why do you all still insist in resisting?!"


    The members aligned with Crassus, rebut almost in unison.


    "Have you no honor?!"


    One continued...


    "It is better to fight on to the very end than to present our bellies to them like a stray dog!"


    Tired of this reasoning, a member of the opposition sneers.


    "Bah! what of honor?! we lost it all ages ago!"


    "Even the people no longer want to fight YOUR wars!"


    In an attempt to fish for their flawed remarks, the member seeks to take advantage of the clear hypocrisy present from within the camp of Crassus.


    The back and forth continues, reply after reply, excuse after excuse...nothing of worth was reached from this discourse, while Crassus himself sat in silence seemingly dismissive of the arguments. Even Quintus just sat in silence, his head resting upon his fist as he ponders upon something, his leg restlessly bobbing up and down. It was then that both men notice the presence of Julius, Crassus motioned to announce and welcome the consul yet again, but this time, Quintus beat him to it...


    "Everyone, SILENCE! The gracious consul has arrived..."


    He declared, almost like a rat that has found his next scheme, he snickers and puts on a fake smile as he welcomed Julius to the meeting. Quintus laid his eyes upon the beaten consul, he notices the torn toga under the lorica, and the bruises visible on the face of the consul. He became even more elated...


    Julius''s mark on Rome has now spread to the senate...


    The senate was silenced, all could not put into words the surprise they felt when Quintus himself eagerly announced the presence of the new consul. This was not just unusual, this was neigh unreal, members from both sides look around in confusion, unable to fathom the madness that has happened in front of them, the only one to through him was Crassus.


    His eyes widened while raising his brows, Crassus thought to himself...


    "No he can''t be suggesting we-"


    It was then that Quintus pounced like a starving predator, desperate for anything. He latched on to the only thing he had left available to him, his only hope, his scapegoat, Julius...


    "The man of the hour has arrived, come consul Julius! grace us with your presence!"


    Quintus claps his hand, urging everyone who followed him to clap along. While the rest seem apprehensive.


    Julius looked towards the senate, his eyes filled with rage and conviction. Presenting himself now to the whole senate, the members take notice of his rather thrashed appearance. As he motioned to respond, Quintus quickly cuts him off...


    "Oh lord consul! what a massive misfortune has befell upon us today!"


    "Your fellow consul, Pompey the Great has died in battle, glory be to his name!"


    His theatrics seem uncanny to everyone but Crassus, and for a moment, Julius as well. He thought...


    "What is this farce?"


    "Why is he-"


    It was then that Julius realized what Quintus was planning, he wanted to make him dictator, he wanted to make Julius a true martyr...


    "It is truly a sad day for both us and the people of this city!"


    "Oh great consul! No, oh great and compassionate Julius!"


    "Will you lead us in this time of need!"


    "Roma, needs you as its dictator!"


    The bewildered crowed was silent again, but one after the other, they clap, they scream and shout in glory of Julius. They realized, that the answer to all their problems was him, Julius. One could say, that any one of them could have just stepped up and be hailed as a new consul, but no one would even dare take up the mantel. Nobody wanted to take any of the blame, and so they all collectively thought...If Julius became dictator, all of the blame could be shifted on to him, everything would be his fault, everything...would be on him. So, they cheered like they never cheered before, they urged him to take up the title, they urged him to accept his fate. All members, from either side, showed their emphatic support for this call, they did not care for the consequence...they didn''t need to care...they cared only for themselves, in their mind, these problems will no longer be theirs, it will be Julius''s, and ONLY Julius''s...everyone in that room wanted to sacrifice Julius...


    Never before has the senate been so unified under a cause, Crassus accepts this reality and readies himself for what''s to come. Quintus finally opens the vote...


    "All in favor to award the title of dictator to consul Julius!"


    Everyone present in that room raised their hands, it was unanimous. In a way, it was quite glorious to see so many people with vastly differing opinions agree on one singular thing.


    Among the hands, was the lone closed and bloodied fist of Julius held up high. He barely got to speak again in that accursed curia, but he did not need to, he got what he wanted. Julius only needed to respond with one sentence...


    "I...accept..."

 Chapter 6: Promise of Hope

    "The only certain thing, is that nothing is certain, and nothing is more wretched or more proud than man"


    - Gaius Plinius Secundus Plinius Hist. Nat. II, 7


    It is difficult for anyone see whatever they hold dear to wither and fade. Witnessing the world around you break down, dying in front of you. The feelings that one would feel, the uncontrollable emotions, all heavily weighs down upon one''s back, anchoring the soul to the whims of the mind. Thus a man cannot help but reminisce about the past. Mark Anthony, an accomplished military general and now lictor to the new consul, has lived his entire life within the walls of this once great city. Growing up, he witnessed the many triumphs celebrating the glory of Roma''s conquest. This city was his world, he grew up in this city, and he grew up for this city. It saddens him, to see his world crumble, it hurts him to realize how powerless he is, and it angers him, to know the reason of its demise.


    So when a single spark of hope, in the form of Julius, presented itself to Mark Anthony, he could not help but be doubtful of the things to come. Sure, in his mind he knew that there is always a possibility for betterment, that maybe...just maybe...this time, it will be different, something will finally bring change...something...Grand...


    "Ave! Consul Julius!"


    "Ave!...Ave!...AVE!"


    "AVE! AVE! AVE!..."


    The curia was resonating with the unified chants of the senate. The walls seemingly shaking from the rumble of the voices. Mark Anthony found himself facing a haunting sight, the senate bestowing the title of dictator so readily to the new consul. His eyes, fixated only to the sight of the man at the center of it all, Julius. A rising beat could be heard, similar to the war-drums he is oh so familiar with. Was it from the glorified chant? the frantic claps? or the solid stomps of their feet...he does not know where this sound was coming from...what this sound was even supposed to be...but he has heard this sound before, not too long ago even...


    "Ave! my Lord!"


    "Thank you lord consul"


    "ave!...Ave!...AVE!"


    It was the day before, the visage of that scene still lingering in the mind of Mark Anthony. A large crowd, chanting in the name of Julius, whether it be a form of gratitude, honor, or glory. The same beat could still be heard, ever so steady and echoing within his mind. Again, Julius was at the center, being showered by many words and praises that almost seem like nothing to him. Be it in front of the people or the senate, his face never changed, it all stayed the same, showing a face of drive, conviction, purpose...ambition...


    Mark Anthony did not know what had become of him, no matter what happened around him, his attention was only directed towards the poised stature of the man in front of him, Julius. It was almost like he had gone blind, everything was blurry, and only one thing was clear...there was a path, a path that he did not know yet where it lead.


    "Let us go address the people..."


    The sound of Julius''s voice brought him out of his daze, as the bloodied hand of the consul rests on his shoulder. He uttered no word in response, only a nod as he postured his body to be ready, prepared to follow the words of the now dictator. Everyone from within the curia followed Julius outside, be they from any allegiances, one way or another, they were all compelled to follow. Yelled at, ordered, of their own will...everyone from the hall brought themselves to face the people, to hear...the drums...


    Walking past the great pillars, the figure of Julius slowly revealed itself to the awaiting crowd. A chaotic symphony of voices emanate from the people bellow, flooding the space with incoherent discourse, as the grief stricken people still search for an answer, any answer from the senate or Julius. He held his bloodied hand up high, it was a simple but effective gesture, as the sight of the blood dripping from the grasps of the consul was more than enough to bring forth silence.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "Hear me people of Roma, you have all been wronged, wronged by the senate, wronged by the guards, and wronged by me..."


    He marks his chest piece with blood before continuing...


    "It is insurmountable, the amount of pain and suffering these men in front of you have inflicted, be it deliberate, through negligence, or a product of inaction..."


    He turns his head one by one towards the members of the senate before looking back towards the people...


    "Your sons are dead...Pompey the Great, is dead. Our city faces the dark future of capitulation, and our children face the grim fate of slavery..."


    Julius points at the ruins...


    "Look around you, upon the houses that shelter you, upon the walls that protect you, and upon the roads that carry you...everything is in ruin."


    He grasps his hands again...


    "Undeniable is this reality, so much misery, so much anguish, and there is more to come haha...we are the people behind all of this, all of the blood is on our hands...all of your hope...has been crushed by our hands."


    He clenches again, allowing himself to bleed more before declaring...


    "But not anymore...look here my noble people, look upon my bloodied fists! from this day forwards, every wound, every death, and every sin...will all be on MY HANDS"


    Julius presents his palms towards the people...


    "Forget the men behind me, focus only on this animal in front of you! My name is Gaius Julius Caesar, former consul, now dictator of Roma. Chosen! by the men who have wronged you, now standing, in front of all those who have been wronged."


    He paints his face with the fresh blood from his hands. Donning the symbol of Jupiter. Triumphantly, he shouts...


    "By your grace! and by the Gods! I will lead myself to eternal damnation for all of you to be lead to the path of glory!"


    "Use me as your torch, to guide yourselves from the darkness that we have brought upon you!"


    He again raises his fist, presenting his wounds to the masses. Julius bows his head down before solemnly asking...


    "Romans!...Please!...give me the honor of dying for you!"


    An immediate cheer followed the heavy words of Julius. His rugged and beaten up appearance becomes clear now to the on-seeing masses, this sight only fuelled the now seemingly unwavering support for the dictator. Their answer was clear, Yes. Julius showed them a glimpse of a better future, he brought to them the embers to create a bright and glorious flame...he gave the people hope. Julius Fondatore, has brought hope to the hopeless...


    The senate, while a bit confused by Julius''s emphatic speech, join in the celebration. They wanted this after all, they wanted a martyr, and what they got was not just a simple sacrifice, but a will one, a very willing one. All of the members were visibly ecstatic, all but two, Crassus and Quintus. Quintus was just as confused as he was happy, never, even in his wildest imaginations did he expect a result such as this.


    "What is wrong with that man..."


    He thought to himself as he basks in the situation. Many thoughts went through his head, all of them easily dismissed as at the end of the day, his plan followed through. Crassus, on the other hand, was was very surprised, he also never expected such a driven speech from a man who was meant to be a political sacrifice. He now had much more respect for Julius, both as a politician as well as a person. Whether this individual will find success or not, Crassus now looks forward to the future of his career as dictator.


    "Ave Julius!"


    "ave!...Ave!...AVE!"


    "AVE! AVE! AVE!"


    The crowd shouts, screaming Julius''s name in glory from all corners of Rome. Beggars, merchants, senators, children...in that moment Roma hailed the name of Julius.


    "There it is again..."


    Whispers Mark Anthony to himself, the audible beats of a drum, only now, the tempo is rising by the second. Again, he looks for the source. But no matter how hard he tries to find the answer from observing his surroundings, he still can''t seem to find the source of the sound. Its the same sight, this image that has been seared into his mind by now, the image of Julius''s glory at the center of a crowd of people...at the center...of Romans...Julius showed them a glimpse of a better future, he brought to them the embers to create a bright and glorious flame...he gave the people hope. Julius brought hope to the hopeless...


    The sound got louder and louder, eventually it silenced the cheers of the people around him. Feeling overwhelmed, Mark Anthony grasped his chest, and it was then that he finally realized where that sound was coming from...


    "Ah...so thats what it was..."


    It was the pounding beat of his heart...

 Chapter 7: Dominātus Reforms

    "The law speaks too softly to be heard amidst the din of arms"


    - Gaius Marius The Parellel Lives, Plutarch


    In the following days after his declaration, Julius went on to do what he does best, research. He looked into the legislative and military history of this "Neo Roma". Noticing some major differences when compared to "Old Rome", he notes down the historical discrepancies.


    First and foremost, the presence of magic. Certainly lacking from his old world, the existence of magic has had heavy implications on steering the course of human civilization. In his research, Julius has found that while humanity in general has some potential to use magic, most humans have little to no mana, and thus can barely even sense their "mana". This mana is what determines one''s capability to do or practice magic, it is generally believed that the older something is, the more mana they would have at their disposal. Having relatively low life spans, the mana that a human could gather would then be much lower when compared to the other races. Elves and Dwarves for example have lifespans far surpassing that of humans. Another factor is that humans don''t have the inherent ability to sense mana, as such, the average human can go through their entire lives without knowing they had mana in the first place, let alone properly use it. There are always some exceptions however, a handful of human "Magus" were recorded to have existed in the past.


    "I see, if this "magic" is anything similar to the ideas present back on earth, then this would have major implications regarding the development of any civilized society."


    "More importantly, if that was the case, magic would have definitely been used in war..."


    Magic has many applications, ranging from agriculture to warfare. If one can imagine something, magic can achieve it.


    This would then lead to a hierarchy of potential power, were long lived races are at the top, and humans are near the bottom. On an equal playing field, with similar numbers, a clash between a human army and any long lived race would be extremely one sided.


    Moving on, another issue that Julius found was that instead of having expansionist policies, Neo Roma is more economically focused. The reason for this being the long string of military losses, seemingly caused by the influence of a foreign party. One way or another, the cities that Neo Roma planned to conquer received help either economically or militarily. As time went on, expansionism became less and less favored in the eyes of the senate, as the more they lost, the higher each loss costed, be it in the form of war reparations, ransoms, or rebuilding projects. The city and its people had no choice but to transition into a more trade and economically focused policies for survival. This change heavily affected the would be advancements in military policies from Old Rome.


    "This explains why triarii were present during the riot, Rome still uses the maniple system..."


    Lastly, as it was evident from what he has already seen in person. Julius notes on the severe corruption of the city''s governing body, the senate. The archives states that for the past 15 years, over 50% of any and all funds have been reported as missing. This in turn resulted in the heavy decline of Rome''s citizens, infrastructure, and, ironically enough, its economy. As it stands right now, no consistent trade route will ever be established. It is simply far to much of a risk to trade with a heavily degrading city, and so, external trade from neighboring cities and nation states have almost completely stopped. There is so much risk for so little reward, in other words, Rome has completely lost its image and reputation in the eyes of the world.


    "Such a vile and unfortunate domino effect..."


    Julius thought to himself, convinced that Rome as of right now is an outcast among outcasts. A city, populated with purely humans, rotting behind its walls. A husk of what they could be, with no drive and no proper reason to fight again. Living within squaller, as only those who already had money could have the opportunity to make money. All those who have been born in the lower class have no choice but to beg and rely on the scarce rations the city oh so graciously provides them.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    He scoffed at this reality, Julius chuckled at the idea that so much potential has been lost over the 15 years the city has suffered a cancer. At one point he was completely powerless to do anything, but now, now that he is dictator of Rome. He planned to weaponize this hopelessness to fuel the great war engine that he envisioned in his mind.


    Julius then screams out emphatically to his lictors guarding outside.


    "Call upon Marcus Antonius! and tell him to have the senate gather."


    On the day after, the senate gathered at the curia in short notice. Disgruntled and bothered, many of the members can''t help but voice out their displeasure to this sudden call.


    "This boy! has the power already gotten to his head?!"


    "Who does he think he is? for a sacrificial figure head, he sure is making a show before his demise."


    An annoyed but relaxed voice echoed out from behind the complaining men.


    "Oh hush now, we did make him dictator. Let the child play around in the dirt all he wants."


    It was Quintus, clearly still revelling on the success of his plan.


    But it was not just the followers of Quintus who were outraged, even those under Crassus expressed their discontent.


    "Has he no decorum?"


    "It seems that respect is not always given back..."


    Their eyes gazing towards Crassus, attempting to gauge and find out what his reaction was to the sudden call. His face showed no signs of anger and no signs joy, displayed there was simply the face of man who was inquisitive, his eyes watching the entrance of the curia, awaiting the arrival of the dictator.


    It was then that the doors open, revealing the entourage of Julius and his lictors, with Mark Anthony leading the way


    Mark declared.


    "Dictator Julius has arrived!"


    In response, Crassus acknowledged his presence by shouting.


    "We honor you dictator!"


    As he raised his hand demanding silence, his followers quickly abided, while the rest begrudgingly follow. Quintus, not really caring much, did nothing and said nothing. This time, he had no agenda, so he did not bother to act.


    Julius then opened up his speech.


    "Members of the senate, days ago, I promised to the people of Roma, that I will bring them the embers they needed to forge a great fire..."


    The members stay silent, eager to listen to the words of the man they considered to be dead.


    "Thus I have gathered you all here today to inform you that this promise is already being fulfilled as we speak..."


    Julius''s words ushered a reaction from the audience, the were perplexed to say the least.


    "Earlier today I made a public decree, the "Domin��tus Reforms" have been enacted, which states that, any and all who wish to enlist, can enlist, in the professional standing army of Roma, the Legion..."


    It was like nails on a chalkboard, the screeching laughter of Quintus breaks the silence.


    "Ha ha ha HAH! professional standing army?! HA HA HA HA!"


    "By the Gods! he already made the decree public?! HA HA HA HA!"


    "No one will join lord dictator! HA HA HA!"


    While his antics came off as annoying to most, none of them could deny that his words held clear truths. The absurdity of Julius''s statement hasn''t settled in yet, "Earlier today? He already made the decree?", they all asked themselves.


    Ignoring Quintus''s snide remark, Julius continued...


    "Members of the legion are expected to undergo training expected of that from a soldier, in return, your equipment, food, and housing shall be provided to you by the state. Those who have undergone a minimum of 4 weeks of training shall be entitled to a weekly pay there on after."


    This announcement created uproar across the senate.


    "Provided by the state? out of whose pockets do you expect to get that money from huh?!"


    "You think too highly of yourself boy! such arrogance is unacceptable!"


    Members from both sides scream in protest against the dictator. Outraged they feel as if they have just been robbed in broad daylight. The once cackling Quintus found the smile on his face quickly disappear as the implications suddenly settled in. He couldn''t do anything about it, nobody could in that room could do anything about it, not him, not Crassus.


    Julius was the dictator chosen by the senate and supported by the people. If any of them were to go against his status as dictator, not only will they have to face the lictor''s and their maniples, but also the might of city''s people.


    In the chaos, Julius simply left the curia along with his lictors. Quintus did not know how to react, he frantically looked around for Crassus''s reaction, he thought that surely...surely he must be outraged right?


    He was wrong, plastered all over Crassus''s face, was the biggest grin he has ever seen him make.


    Quintus felt fear for the first time in a while...

 Chapter 8: Exercitatio

    "Men are slower to recognize blessings than misfortunes."


    - Titus Livy The History of Rome, Books 1-5


    Days after the fiasco that was the senate meeting, Mark Anthony finds himself facing the view of the fields outside the southwestern sector of the city. Across the Aemilian bridge, he awaits for the potential applicants in the area to be later known as the Pagus Ianiculensis. Found there was a hastily put together station, that featured 2 tents to be used to register those who wish join the legions. In the relative silence, Mark thinks back to his conversation with Julius the day prior...


    "Marcus, under the Domin��tus Reforms, I will establish a new system for recruiting. It shall be named "Dilectus pro Omnibus", recruitment for all."


    Julius presents a piece of parchment filled with the many details of the training regime he prepared for the reforms, outlined from day 1 to day 28...


    "You are to be the "Doctore" for the first batch of potential legionnaires. I trust that under your guidance that those who apply shall follow through with the training..."


    "For you possess the many qualities I seek from a professional soldier. Lead them by example, march along with them, carry weight with them, sweat and bleed with them. Show them what they could become, show them what they should become, a true soldier for Roma to be proud of..."


    Taken aback from the sudden task assigned upon him, Mark Anthony replies in a doubtful tone.


    "I understand dictator, though, you expect much from me and far too much from the citizenry. I have my doubts regarding the retention of the recruits, as it stands, is it not far more likely that they give up after the first day?"


    He takes a glance at the parchment given to him by Julius before continuing...


    "While I myself am not familiar with the "constructione" sessions that you have listed here to be held every other day. These training regimens that you have planned are difficult to expect from the soldiery today, much less should it be expected from those who have not an ounce of training..."


    Julius simply lets out a chuckle, replying.


    "Worry not Marcus, men desperate enough for anything will go above and beyond what is expected of them. Especially if you present to them what they desire most."


    He shuffles around some documents before continuing...


    "Give those who simply arrive there a small portion of the food that is promised to a fully fledged legionnaire, and as you progress through the day''s training, trickle in the rest whenever you see fit."


    Julius gazes towards the window as he assures him...


    "At the end of the day, lead them to the castra, present to them the lodging that they have been promised. From then on, I can almost guarantee you that they follow through with the training."


    Back to the present, as he finishes recalling the conversation. He is met with the sight of a crowd of about 600 men awaiting registration. Upon close inspection, Mark Anthony notes on the rather skinny figures that these men have. Most of them wore what seemed like tattered rags, some not even having sandals. It is not outlandish to conclude that only the dregs of Roman society have gathered here, all those who have nothing else truly left. The most desperate of the desperate.


    It was then that Mark Anthony realized what Julius was implying...


    "I see...these people have no choice."This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    He composes himself before addressing the crowd, gazing upon the faces of the men. In many ways now, he understands what drives them to such actions, to such untested and risky choices. Mark Anthony reaches for a sack and saddles it upon his back, walking down from the elevated base of the tents to meet the men on ground. To him it was a simple gesture, but to others it was an act of virtue. By this action alone, a handful of men already found themselves motivated.


    "What is this absurdity!?"


    They think to themselves. Never before have they seen someone of such stature and rank within Roman society, purposefully present himself as an equal to the common people. Thus, as much as some may have been in awe, many also doubt this action as an attempt to hide his true two faced intentions.


    But as it stands, not a single word was communicated to the men from the top of the podium. Only the simple words...


    "Grab a sack, and carry it along with me. You only need to follow..."


    They attempt to follow the instructions, those who have enough strength to shoulder the sack do so with a bit of difficulty. While those who are unable, drag the sack across the ground. Mark Anthony leads them to the base of the hill, waiting for them to gather before explaining.


    "Inside the sack is a portion of grain that was promised, what to do with it is up to you."


    Mark points to the sack saddled behind his back.


    "I am sure you have noticed the weight of the sack, If you wish to proceed with the tests, line up an prepare to walk."


    He signals to the other lictors to help facilitate the lines.


    "We will march up and down this hill until I am fatigued."


    These words rattled both the applicants and the helpers. Immediately, some started to dread what was to come.


    "If you drop the sack, then the food and your application is forfeit. You may attempt again next time."


    The once silent and obedient crowd quickly responded with complaints directed towards Mark Anthony. They thought that such rules are absurd. In their eyes, forfeiting the application AND the food was cruel play at their desperate lives. To them, Mark was simply asking for the impossible. But their pleas were ignored.


    "Those who succeed will be given another portion of grain, this will repeat until sundown."


    Wasting no more time, Mark Anthony begins to march uphill. The men quickly prompted their sacks off the ground, almost instinctively. None of them wanted to lose the food, some considered just running off with the sacks. The idea was quickly abandoned however, they figured that they definitely cannot outrun trained men while carrying their sacks. This did not stop some of the men from trying, all of whom were caught mere moments from trying. As punishment, their sacks were taken and they received a beating afterwards.


    Witnessing this sight, those who composed themselves from deserting felt a cold sweat. None of them wanted to carry such a weight for hours upon hours, they expected to be given handouts...instead...they were given a choice. Will they march? or Will they starve?


    ...Their answer was clear...


    Hours pass and fatigue quickly reached all of the applicants. Legs shaking and vision blurring, one of the men collapsed on the way uphill. He was quickly taken off by two lictors, they were about to record him as "Failure" before Mark Anthony interfered, telling them...


    "His sack never touched the ground, he has yet to give up..."


    Bewildered, the two complied with the rather puzzling words. They dragged the man into the shade to administer basic aide. Never could the two have imagined that he was only the first of many...


    At last the sun has set, all of them let out a sigh of relief as they thought the ordeal was finally over. All of their backs were sore and their feet were certainly riddled with blisters. It was painful....so...so...painful, never in their lives have these people experienced such an exhausting afternoon. Sure they got their food, but they can''t help but question if it was all worth it in the end. A heavy wave of doubt blanketed the group, so far, none of them wanted to continue on with the training. Fixating on how much suffering they had to endure today, they questioned whether of not this "training" would even result in them becoming soldiers.


    While the men were catching their breath, some of those who have passed out earlier woke up mortified. They assumed that they were automatically disqualified and dreaded the thought that all of their effort today would have been for nothing. Breaking the tension, a tired but resolute Mark Anthony announced proudly.


    "Congratulations, you all get to keep your food. Now, follow me. I will lead you to your quarters."


    This announcement should have brought elation and a smile to all of their faces. But the beleaguered and broken men only fixated on the fact that there was more to do...


    They shambled mindlessly following Mark Anthony, in their minds, they secretly cursed his name and that of Julius.


    "They have done nothing but torture us!"


    When they reached the quarters, Mark made one final speech to dismiss the men. None of the words could reach them at this moment anymore. In the dead of night, their thoughts finally settled in, and to the surprise of everyone, they no longer saw the night sky as they fall asleep, instead what they saw above them was a roof over their heads...


    Collectively, they all remarked...


    "Ah...how warm..."

 Chapter 9: Flora Rencia

    "Hidden talent count for nothing"


    - Nero Caludius Suetonius, Life of Nero


    Among the many institutions that make up the overall image of Roman society. The collegia is one of the most important legal entities, they function as social clubs or religious groups in service to the city and the people. What many would consider to be the back bone of Rome, the guilds that rose from the collegia system, brought much order and direction to the many plebians and specialists of the era.


    One rather obscure and often overlooked group are the ones responsible for building the many grand structures of the city, the Architecti. While most of the construction work is done by laborers, it is the architecti that design and meticulously plan out the construction of the project. It is not wrong to say, that they are the backbone of the foundation that prompts Rome up for all to see. They were the engineers of old, that predated the word itself.


    Equipped with this knowledge, Julius sought the guidance of the architecti in teaching the would be legionnaires in the way of construction. He understands the significance of engineers in warfare, as all across the history of his old world, siege warfare is an eternal constant. Whether a nation be at peace or at war, infrastructure is king.


    Julius faces the entrance of what should have been the architecti''s guild. Lamenting on the dilapidated state of the building.


    "Even they were unable to uphold the essence of their profession..."


    He enters, scanning the intricately designed hallways. In a saddened voice he continues...


    "Shame...these people have so much skill, yet they were forgotten and wasted away."


    Julius notices what looks like to be old schematics spread open on a large wooden table. Admiring the designs with a spark in his eyes, similar to the great columns of the curia, he can''t help but be mesmerised at what he would consider as a great piece of human history brought to life. Something was strange however, the room felt and looked like it has been abandoned for some time, dust was everywhere, yet these schematics look clean...


    Right when he connected the dots, a voice calls out to him from deeper within the building.


    "Whoever you are! I already told your master to fuck off!"


    Frantic footsteps echo throughout the hall, growing closer as an annoyed voice shouts.


    "For the last time! this area is not for sale!"


    A familiar woman shows herself, defiantly striding towards Julius. Asserting herself as she adds.


    "And get your hands off those! you have no business touching them with your dirty paws!"


    She shoves Julius aside with no particular care for who he was. Focused only in protecting the papers from who she considered to be a clueless servant. To her, the only thing that mattered at that moment was the safety of the schematics.


    Sighing in annoyance, she stands her ground and warns Julius.


    "Listen you welp....No matter what my father or my brother says, as long as I am alive and breathing, this hall will NEVER be given to the likes of you!"


    "You will see ash cover the land before you can even dream of owning this place."


    Stunned by her bold words, Julius felt relieved that the passion of the is not yet lost amidst the decaying city. Amused, he responds lightheartedly...


    "That''s good to hear, but it would be such a shame to lose this building and its history..."


    Surprised, she quickly turns to face him. Confused she asked.


    "Huh?! who the hell even are yo-"


    But before she could finish her question, a the loud grumbled voice of a man could be heard from the outside. Beckoning for her as he searched.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Flora! if you are in that accursed hall again, on Jupiter''s name I will-"


    He enters the hall catching a quick glimpse of Julius before he proceeds to briskly approach her. He passes Julius, grabbing the woman on her arm before finally realizing...


    "Wha- dictator Julius?!"


    Flora, now in a state of disarray, cuts in...


    "Dictator who?!"


    In response, Julius simply said.


    "That I am."


    The three eventually managed to move into a more proper space to talk. Inviting Julius to their abode, the man introduced himself as Vitruvius. Recognising his name, Julius contemplates for a moment.


    "Vitruvius...as in Marcus Vitruvius Pollio? the master architect that authored the "De architectura" books?"


    Questions flooded his mind. For some time now he had suspected that there were major discrepancies in the timeline he was familiar with. He already considered the death of Pompey the great to be a huge indicator of what to expect from this world. Yet he could not help but hold on to this delusion that maybe neo Roma was a close 1 to 1 copy of old Rome. Julius figured, that it would have been greatly helpful for him to be able to use his own familiarity with Roman history to predict certain events and outcomes. But alas, it seemed day by day, such hopes dwindle.


    Vitruvius sat himself next to their wooden dining table, his daughter gravitating next to him. He offers Julius a wooden stool to sit on, to the dismay of Flora...


    "Must we really show courtesy to the king of the dogs father?..."


    Unfazed by the insult, Julius scoffs and lets out a light chuckle before her father snaps back at her.


    "Flora! keep your mouth shut!"


    While they never considered themselves to be amicable to politicians. Vitruvius understands the many nuances that come with dealing with them. He was wise and patient in this regard, but his daughter held no such sentiments. She was not reserved nor cautious of what she says about them. To her, they were all the same, dirty animals that grabbed onto power, turning her city into the den that it is now.


    "Do not test my patience after you went into that shit hole again!"


    Flora''s face contorts in disbelief. Despite how many times she has been told off like this, she still cannot accept that her father, Vitruvius himself, has given up on the collegia. She grew up in those halls, watching his father as he worked day in and day out. Naturally, she slowly started to develop an interest. At first, she sneaked into the halls with the help of her brother, normally this would have been frowned upon as women are not seen to be suited to such a masculine field. But her father not only allowed her to join in, but he was ecstatic to have a daughter so interested in his craft. Flora remembers those days fondly, as only then did she ever see his normally pensive father have the such a bright smile.


    This is why, she simply could not accept what her hero has become. The man that she idolized all of her life, it pained her greatly that the passion that once overflowed from him, dry out like the many tears she shed alone at night...


    So she screamed...wailing and crying, like a child desperately wanting something from her parent in the supermarket.


    "You loved that shit hole father! that was your life, you raised me and my brother under that roof!"


    Pointing at her father before continuing...


    "I was happy there! I was happy working with brother, I was happy working with YOU!"


    "I was happy being next to YOU, I was happy watching YOU, I was happy helping YOU!"


    She bellowed, gesturing towards the general direction of the collegia.


    "But now when I look at your face, I don''t see my father, I see a broken man"


    "I...see...a STRANGER"


    "I thought I only lost mother when she died in that fire, but it feels like I also lost my father as well!"


    Vetruvius slams on the wooden table with all his might. The sound shocks the sobbing girl quite.


    "FLORA!"


    His shout shakes the poor girl to her core...


    "Say that you were to continue to work as an architecti, say that I allow you to open that hall again. WHO WOULD WANT YOUR SERVICE?! You are a WOMAN!"


    The room fell into silence, the desperate cries of a pleading girl were replaced by the deafening sound of silence.


    "..."


    In that moment, many things broke within that room. A daughter''s heart...a fathers word...a family''s love...the sound of silence....


    "I would"


    "I would want her service..."


    "In fact, NEED her service."


    It was Julius, he felt many things building up to that moment. Sadness, regret, fear...Pain...


    These emotions flocked to him, almost like it was radiating from the father and the daughter in front of him...this was an ability honed by Julius in his old world...empathy...


    Vitruvius scoffs histerically. He stares at Julius, eye to eye, looming over the sitting man.


    "OH you need her?! You know nothing of her skill or work ethic...but you NEED her eh?!"


    Taken aback by the sudden advance, Julius hesitated for a moment before replying...


    "Yes...yes I do. It is true that I know nothing, but what use is one''s talent and skill if nobody else gets to see it?"


    He stands up, posturing himself against him, almost challenging Vitruvius.


    "Afterall, hidden talent count for nothing..."


    Julius walks around the man, striding towards the sobbing girl. Offering her a clean rag to wipe her tears. Flora grabs a hold of it tightly, attempting to suppress the unimaginable pain and sorrow she is feeling.


    "Come to the plaza tomorrow morning...I need your skills there..."


    She could not control herself, in that state, she was unable to deny nor accept Julius''s offer. But it did not matter...he didn''t need to hear her words, he will know her answer in the day after. Julius looks back towards Vitruvius ,he gives him a small nod before leaving room. That last thing he heard was the pained sobs of Flora as she dropped down to her knees.


    "A-aahh....*hick*....aaaAAH!"

 Chapter 10: Conflict

    "One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood."


    - Lucius Anneus Senaca The Ninth Book of Dialogues


    A howling wind welcomed the people of Rome to the first light of day. The serene vestiges of light peaking through the many nooks and crannies of the torn buildings that still stand. Colds winds and the warm rays of the sun converge upon those subjected to the morning twilight. Polar opposites, yet existing in harmony under the grand dominion of nature...


    Two men bask upon the moment, walking across the many residential buildings that once kept families warm...


    "Do you believe in our people Marcus?..."


    Julius asks, as the steady sound of footsteps challenge the silence.


    "Whatever could you mean lord dictator?"


    Mark Anthony replies, taken aback by another one of Julius''s puzzling questions. Julius reiterates...


    "Do you trust in the unknown?..."


    He quickly follows up...


    "Would you trust in what you don''t know?..."


    The sound of footsteps fill in the air as Mark Anthony takes a moment to think.


    He finally answers...


    "No, dictator...no I wouldn''t"


    Julius responds as he laughs under his voice.


    "I also wouldn''t do so ha ha..."


    Compared to Julius, Mark Anthony was not accustomed to the humor that developed from the many years of human history. The nuances that could be found from within Julius''s words were impossible for the people of this world to pick up. Even though Mark was no longer a stranger to Julius''s words and antics, he still can''t help but be bothered from time to time.


    Like a friend fed up with a troublesome companion, Mark Anthony lets a question he did not mean to ask.


    "Why then did you ask such a question of me?"


    Marcus realized this slip up and quickly tried to take back his words, thinking that he has greatly disrespected the dictator. But Julius paid no mind, to him it was far from an insult. He just replied in a reassuring tone...


    "It never hurts to ask a question, but it may hurt to find out..."


    He stops for a moment to breath in the fresh morning air.


    "Those who choose ignorance are the only ones to set themselves up for the pain of revelation."


    Julius continued, facing the troubled Mark Anthony. After this exchange, the two continued on their way, Marcus said nothing else after Julius''s words...He couldn''t say anything else...He pondered why the dictator always seems to be heedless, its almost like his mind is wandering off to distant lands while his body stays in place. He acknowledges his skill in speaking to the people, he knows his drive and will, he is aware of what Julius is capable of...But no matter how hard he tried, Mark Anthony still could not understand Julius.


    The two continue to walk for some time, eventually reaching the many pathways leading to the central square. As they turn the corner to face the plaza, a young woman could be seen pacing back and forth from one side to another.


    Julius calls out to the restless girl...


    "Ah, Miss Flora..."


    The sound of his voice echoing across the empty space of the square.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "What brings you here so early?"


    He asks, relieved that it seemed like she accepted his offer.


    Flora shrugs...


    "HaH, I had no choice..."


    She paces towards the two slowly, bowing her head as she continued.


    "I just can''t bring myself to look at father after what happened yesterday..."


    "So I left the house as soon as I could, and now I''m her-"


    Her words were cut short, as she notices Mark Anthony right behind Julius.


    "-e its YOU!"


    Flora shouts, as she points at him with no care in the world. Confused, Julius asked intending to clarify.


    "Who?!...Marcus? you already know miss Flora?"


    "Forgive me lord dictator, I don''t reca-"


    An image quickly flashes in his mind, he remembered, she was the woman who he tried to help on the day of the riot.


    "Ah, I do recall seeing her face."


    Upon noticing their familiarity with each other, Julius took this as a good sign. Thinking that since they already knew each other, then collaborating with the constructione training will be made much easier. So, he took this opportunity to reveal their pairing for the task.


    "Well now, this makes things easier then. Marcus, miss Flora here is the one who will be leading the constructione training later today."


    "I have yet to inform you both of the details, but the constructione is suppose to train the legions in the ways of construction."


    Flora chimes in reacting to this information...


    "So that''s what you meant by "needing my skills", you wanted me to teach your new soldiers how to build? huh?"


    Julius responds in a semi concerned tone.


    "Will that be a problem?"


    Dismissively, she assures Julius.


    "Oh no I don''t give a damn. As long as you pay me and I get to prove my father wrong, then I am fine with doing whatever."


    "This is pretty surprising though, never thought I would be paired up with him, name''s Flora Rencia...yours?"


    She extends her arm over to Mark Anthony, asking for a handshake.


    "Marcus Antonius..."


    He obliged, replying his name promptly. The two grasped hands for a moment as a sign of respect to each other. Something bothered Mark Anthony however, Flora seemed to be far too familiar with Julius.


    Now that the two have exchanged their pleasantries, Flora couldn''t help but point out...


    "I didn''t think he was working for you Julius, thought he was just another pup of those dogs ha ha!"


    Mark Anthony was stunned. Hearing Julius''s name from Flora''s mouth with no form of courtesy whatsoever. This act from Flora brought a form of anger he himself is not too familiar with.


    "Who does she think she is? Saying the lord dictator''s name so casually!"


    He thought to himself. Perhaps it was frustration or his own prejudice, but Mark Anthony could not contain the surging injustice that he suddenly felt through the careless words of Flora.


    "I implore you to address him properly miss."


    Marcus mutters, demanding she show proper respect to Julius and his title.


    "Huh? address who?"


    Flora''s reply was a genuine question. In no way did she mean any disrespect, whether it be through negligence or lack of courtesy. This seemingly innocent response only irritated Mark Anthony further...


    "Dictator Julius...address him as such."


    With a more forceful tone, he emphasized his wish. Julius wanted to speak up as he feared that a conflict may end up rising between the newly assigned duo. But before he could act, Flora replied spitefully.


    "I''ll address him how I please, besides he doesn''t seem to care."


    She sensed animosity from Mark Anthony, perplexed as to where this came from. Flora dismisses his request as she saw no problem with how she acted. From what seemed like out of nowhere, Mark Anthony raised his voice for the first time in front of Julius.


    "You WILL address him properly woman!"


    Julius did not know what to think of this reaction, he froze in place, as he processed the sudden outburst. For once, he did not know what he should do. Flora, however, took this as a form of discrimination from someone she considered to be of high social standing.


    "OH...so THATS how it is huh?!"


    She shouted back, thinking that Mark Anthony never really wanted to collaborate with someone like her. Assuming that he was only complying with it because Julius wanted him to.


    The two clashed heads for some time. Exchanging insults and arguing with each other about many how''s, why''s, and whatnot''s. Culminating with both suggesting to Julius that one over the other is not really needed for the constructione training to be successful.


    "Lord dictator, this woman is not fit to train the legionnaires!"


    "Julius, I don''t want to teach with this mutt!"


    Finally having enough of this senseless squabble, Julius speaks up.


    "ENOUGH, both of you!"


    He catches the attention of the two.


    "No one is being removed or excluded from this assignment!"


    "Jesus! my head hurts...I don''t know what the fuck possessed both of you but you better cut it out!"


    Julius pressed on the temples of his head as he breathed in deeply, sighing out as he continued...


    "Marcus! bring miss Flora to the castra, when I arrive later you both better have buried the hatchet!"


    He walks away, letting out one final bout of frustration.


    "Ahhh...Christ..."


    The two may squabble and argue. As of right now, they both may not be able to see eye to eye. To Flora, Marcus is a stiff and overly self assured man who views everything in his eyes with an order to follow. To Marcus, Flora is a rude, classless, overly familiar woman who bears no respect for rank in society. Their views about each other differ greatly, but there is one thing that they understood and both agreed upon...


    "What just happened?"


    Julius lost it in Italian...

 (Announcement) The future of this novel going forward

    Hello, it has been over a week now since my last update.


    It was my finals week + family vacation. Due to these circumstances, I was not able to write or get into the mood to write. When I finally found the time to open my laptop to check emails, I was surprised to see that I have been offered a contract to go premium in a certain site.


    After taking the time to consult with my family, friends, and a lawyer. Truth be told the contract offered to me was very tempting, but ultimately, I chose to keep this novel and the future chapters free for all those who wish to read my work. There are two main reasons for this, one, I don''t like locking chapters behind a paywall, and two, forcing myself to update almost daily will most definitely affect both the writing quality and the story.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    To whoever offered me the contract, I am honored that you would consider my work to be worth the potential time and investment. I thank you for reading the available chapters and giving my work a proper audit. If ever our terms were to meet again in the future, I hope the circumstance will be different.


    The plan for now is to continue on updating and progressing the story. Eventually, I will set up a way for those willing to support my work to donate for the future. I plan to have my chapters be converted into audio scenes supported with proper art in the future. All funds will be put on to making these ideas into a reality.


    That is all for now. Thank for reading, I will return to writing as soon as possible.