"This is Rome's fortress! Are you really going to make an enemy of the Empire?! Guards, prepare to engage! If I die, the commander of the First Legion will assume command!"
With everyone watching, sweat beaded across the commander's forehead. But a vicious glint flashed through his eyes, and he hardened his heart as he roared the order.
This frontline fortress in Britannia guarded Rome's gateway and had to face raids from both the Celts and the Huns. If a commander lacked courage and ability, the Pantheon would never have placed him on such an important battlefield.
"An enemy of Rome? Heh..."
At the same time, silver-white swan-like wings of light fluttered into motion. Brynhildr broke through the Magecraft barrier, crossed over the high wall, and flew onto the fortress with that petite figure in her arms.
The little girl, barely half a man's height, wriggled free from Brynhildr's embrace and jumped down onto the battlements. Facing the Roman soldiers, she took a deep breath, threw her arms wide, and began her impassioned declaration.
"I, Nero Claudius, am the imperial heir of the great House of Claudius, the sole inheritor of my father Claudius I's authority, the Flower of Rome blessed by the divine ancestor! I have endured countless hardships to expand Rome's territory, and I am now qualified to enter the Pantheon, receive formal investiture, and become the Emperor to whom you shall swear your loyalty!
"Rome stands here! The future head of House Claudius stands here! The one you are meant to serve stands here!
"Brave citizens, fearless warriors, since when have Roman blades been turned against their own countrymen for the sake of filthy power struggles?
"Answer me with your own free will. Are you truly going to stand before me and block my path?!"
Hearing this, the expressions of the Roman soldiers gradually softened. The iron resolve they had used to resist Samael's divine pressure began to loosen. Swords and shields slowly lowered in their hands, and it was obvious their hearts were wavering.
The one they were trying to stop was the heir of House Claudius.
The future Emperor.
She might not necessarily succeed, but what if she did?
"Rest assured, all of you. As Roman citizens, we would never do anything harmful to Rome. If we truly meant you harm, then you..."
Samael withdrew his divine pressure and gave the slightly plump commander beside him a "friendly" pat on the shoulder. Then he looked around at the Roman soldiers with a smile that made the meaning perfectly clear.
As the men flexed their stiffened bodies and looked at one another, they quickly realized that despite the seemingly fierce battle just now, not a single casualty had been caused.
Clearly, the other side had shown considerable restraint.
Because of that, the Roman soldiers did not immediately raise their weapons again. Instead, they lowered their swords and shields and hesitated as they exchanged glances.
"So, Commander, please do us the favor of accompanying Nero-sama to the Temple of Mars and opening the great altar, so both sides can verify each other's identities."
The Ancient Serpent's lips curved slightly upward. With one arm around the commander, who now looked like he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time as he lowered his head in reluctant compromise, Samael motioned for Brynhildr to protect Nero while they headed down from the wall together.
Wherever they passed, the Roman soldiers automatically stepped aside and opened a path.
The soldiers did not want to die. And why would he want to die for the country either? He had finally clawed his way up to this position. He had food, wine, comfort, and even a new lover he had only recently taken in. Given a way to live, who would choose the road to death?
Hum!
A moment later, a solemn tremor rose from the Temple of Mars at the center of the fortress. The great altar lit up, and a stream of light bearing a rose emblem shot into the sky.
A resonance of divine authority. The Pantheon had answered!
The Roman soldiers who had been watching nervously all let out sighs of relief, their swords and shields finally dropping completely.
Even setting aside the identity of that future Emperor, just the fact that two top-tier Heroic units were hidden among that group was enough to make them unwilling to become enemies.
After all, when a demigod-class existence appeared on the battlefield, ordinary soldiers were nothing more than targets for one-sided slaughter.
That was why, in battles between legions, heroes at demigod level or above generally had an unspoken understanding to seek out opponents of their own rank rather than focus on mowing down small fry like them.
Still, that rule was only a customary understanding, not something absolute in every situation.
Those two had broken through the fortress blockade in a single assault. Their strength was unfathomable.
If they really went to war with this group, no one knew how many lives it would take to fill the gap.
At the same time, inside the vast and solemn Temple of Mars, the commander stared at the rose emblem shining above the great altar. His gaze flickered, and his expression shifted uncertainly.
The Pantheon had already received and approved the report of this group's entry for official duty.
That was bad.
Now, even if he waited for them to leave this region, it would already be too late to intercept them midway, unless he was prepared to endure the Pantheon's wrath.
Smack.
A pale hand lightly patted the commander's right shoulder. The slightly plump middle-aged man jolted, his whole body instantly going rigid as he guiltily snuck a glance at the black-haired young man sitting beside him with a smile.
Intercept them?
Only if he was tired of living.
A walking god was already among the strongest beings on earth. Unless the divine ancestor personally intervened, who could stop this group from reaching Rome?
Besides, Agrippina the Younger had offered a generous price, but not enough for him to stake his life on it.
"I'm just asking you to step aside. Was there really any need to make such a scene?"
Samael let out a sigh and cast a quiet glance at the commander, who seemed to have already thrown his lot in with Nero's mother.
That simple downward look made the slightly plump middle-aged man tremble like a frog being stared down by a venomous snake. Acting on pure instinct, the commander swallowed hard and answered honestly in a dry voice.
"There's no helping it. A man has to eat..."
"Tch. A commander's pay isn't exactly low."
"..."
Seeing the troubled look on the man's face, Samael suddenly realized he had asked a stupid question.
In any era, people in high office rarely lived on salary alone.
And judging from the soldiers' equipment and level of training inside the fortress, this man at least knew where the line was. He had not dared to reach into the military budget.
That piqued Samael's interest. Rubbing his chin, he asked casually,
"The entire district still isn't enough for you to squeeze dry?"
"This is a military fortress. There's barely any profit in it. Even the nearby Celts already got stripped clean by Emperor Caesar and Emperor Claudius, twice over. They're all paupers now. If I had a better posting, why would I stay in this damned place..."
The commander knew full well that his life was no longer in his own hands, so he simply laid everything bare. With a bitter look on his face, he honestly poured out his grievances, then finally lowered his head and asked dejectedly,
"So tell me. How do you plan to deal with me?"
"Deal with you? The one you serve is Rome. The one you serve is the Pantheon. Only the Emperor appointed to govern the Seventh Province has the right to deal with a legion commander. Understand?"
Samael patted the slightly plump middle-aged man on the shoulder and spoke in a calm tone loaded with meaning.
The commander's body jolted. A look of sudden understanding flashed through his eyes. He immediately wiped the sorrow off his face and answered with solemn seriousness.
"Understood. I'll order the men to prepare fodder and water, open the gates, and welcome you all into the fortress to rest and regroup."
The Ancient Serpent nodded and waved his hand, letting the commander leave without further trouble.
After that, he wandered through the Temple of Mars, trying to find even the slightest clue as to where the gods had gone.
Meanwhile, after the slightly plump middle-aged man returned to headquarters, soothed the soldiers, and sent out his trusted subordinates one by one to deliver orders, the last personal guard lingered for a moment before cautiously approaching the desk and whispering to the commander,
"Sir, are we really going to throw our lot in with a child?"
"We are loyal only to Rome. Only to the divine ancestor. No matter how the City of Seven Hills changes, I will maintain this line of defense and protect Rome's territory. No matter who becomes Emperor, I am still the commander. Understand?"
The commander took a sip of tea to wet his throat and glanced sideways at the guard beside him.
The sturdy soldier, however, just shook his head, completely confused.
"Idiot."
The commander frowned, cursed under his breath, then tossed a signed order straight into the guard's face. A crafty glint flickered in his eyes as he spoke in a low voice.
"Whoever wins, that's who we follow..."