The next day, the celebrations of the Festival of Pan were still in full swing. Everywhere one looked, young men dressed as shepherds could be seen, couples walked hand in hand on dates, and noblewomen strolled together while admiring the flowers.
Romans, who loved lively festivities, celebrated in their own ways. Some from the upper classes gathered in small groups at home, inviting friends over for banquets and wine. Others, constrained by their finances, crowded into taverns, drinking cheap barley beer as a modest reward for themselves.
Opera houses and amphitheaters opened early, their seats filled with eager guests.
The entire city was immersed in a sea of celebration.
As noon approached, Romans who had already exhausted part of their energy gradually gathered at Palatine Hill, located at the center of the Seven Hills. With something close to a pilgrimage-like devotion, they climbed the marble steps with reverence.
From the foot of the hill to its summit, terraces carved into the slopes or constructed along the sides were packed with spectators of all ages.
Starting today, the Pantheon and the Imperial Palace would welcome another emperor.
Samael, who could never sit still, arrived with Boudica, Brynhildr, and the others. As attendants, they took seats on a nearby viewing platform, gazing toward the tightly closed gates of the Pantheon as they waited for the coronation ceremony to begin.
Half an hour later, the side gate of the Pantheon slowly opened.
Two rows of priests and temple officials dressed in white robes entered while holding offerings. Following the traditional ritual, they lit the sacred flame, knelt and bowed their heads, and chanted prayers together as they performed a collective sacrifice to the gods.
The bustling Palatine Hill fell into solemn silence.
The faces of countless Romans were filled with pride and a deep sense of belonging. They murmured prayers, expressing great reverence toward the gods.
Wooo...
After the ritual ended, the High Priest carefully lifted a golden ram's horn with elegant spiral patterns from a tray covered with red silk and piled with petals and fruit.
Placing it to his lips, he gathered his magical power and blew into it.
A long, distant, solemn sound echoed across the square before the temple on Palatine Hill.
Immediately, rings of visible golden ripples spread outward.
The Ether particles suspended in the air condensed into warm golden motes under the influence of the sound waves, drifting downward like shimmering rain.
As the golden motes sank into their bodies, the blessed Romans felt the fatigue from the previous day vanish. Even the hunger in their stomachs gradually faded.
Withered plants touched by the golden motes suddenly turned lush green. Branches and leaves grew rapidly, blooming and bearing fruit in moments while releasing a rich fragrance.
A peaceful, serene, and joyful atmosphere spread outward from the Pantheon and the Imperial Palace atop Palatine Hill.
In nearby places such as the Roman Forum and the Grand Arena, Romans already familiar with this divine blessing had long since secured the best spots, happily welcoming the gift of the golden motes.
However, even with the High Priest pouring great effort into the ritual, the miracle only covered half of Rome.
The farther an area was from Palatine Hill, the fewer golden motes appeared, and the weaker their effects became.
Naturally, those seated close to the source like Samael and the others received a far stronger blessing.
Not only did their bodies feel refreshed and invigorated, but as the golden light pulsed around them, a horn-shaped wicker basket filled with flowers and fruits appeared beside each of them.
The Horn of Plenty... so that's what it is.
Samael glanced quietly at the ram's horn in the hands of the white-robed priest, realization flashing in his eyes.
Long ago, Zeus hid in a cave on Crete to escape his father Kronos, who devoured his own children. There he was raised by the divine nurse Amalthea, who fed him with her milk.
Even as an infant, Zeus possessed extraordinary strength. During one of his playful moments with Amalthea, he accidentally broke one of her horns. In Greek mythology, Amalthea was depicted as a goat.
That broken horn was later sanctified and became the symbol of endless nourishment, capable of producing all kinds of delicious food.
The Horn of Plenty was one of Zeus's treasured possessions.
The fact that it had ended up in the hands of Rome and the Pantheon meant one thing.
The Twelve Gods worshiped in the Pantheon were indeed the Olympian gods.
Oh right. The reason Samael remembered this story so clearly was because that poor she-goat had not only contributed her horn but had also "generously" given up her goatskin, which embodied the earth's power of fertility, abundance, and prosperity.
That's right.
The divine goatskin shield shared by Zeus and Athena, the Aegis, came from that unfortunate goat.
Memories surfaced in his mind.
Samael chuckled softly, pushing those thoughts aside as he picked up the basket of fruit and shared it with the others.
With a crisp bite, the fruit burst with sweet juice that made the mouth water and was impossible to resist.
After enjoying this small appetizer, the gates of the Pantheon finally opened slowly as layers of light rippled across them.
Within twelve layers of shifting colored halos, a man walked forward.
He wore a red undergarment beneath golden armor. His posture was straight like a spear. His sharp, angular features carried a commanding presence. Long blue hair fell over his shoulders, and golden earrings hung from his ears.
His crimson eyes and bronze skin gave him a powerful and imposing appearance.
In his hand, he held the hand of a young girl dressed in a red ceremonial gown, her emerald eyes sparkling with lively brilliance.
Each step he took was perfectly measured and evenly spaced.
His footsteps echoed like rhythmic drumbeats, filling the air with overwhelming pressure and solemn dignity.
Divine Ancestor, Romulus!
The Romans fortunate enough to witness the true face of Rome's founder erupted into cheers. Their eyes brimmed with excitement, and their bodies trembled uncontrollably with exhilaration.
Tch. That's right, god-class. I've finally been waiting for you.
The Ancient Serpent's eyes lit up, and his gaze flickered.
Before the boundary between the divine realm and humanity was broken, beings at the level of gods were already the limit the mortal world could withstand. As the wedge linking the Romans to the old Greek gods, Romulus surely knew something about where the gods of old had gone.
Samael had long wanted to speak directly with the Divine Ancestor Romulus, but he had never found the chance.
Last night he had run into Altera and gotten tied up in various trivial matters, forcing him to abandon the plan. And now, with so many eyes present, it was still not the right moment. Better to wait until the coronation ceremony ended, then sneak in and have a private talk with Romulus.
Having made up his mind, the Ancient Serpent relaxed and simply sat quietly among the audience, content to watch for now.
After the white-robed priests finished their lengthy chant recounting the founding of Rome and listing the outstanding contributions of every previous Roman emperor, Nero, not even one and a half meters tall, had been praised so extravagantly by the priests assigned to sing her virtues that she was practically turned into a flower...
A one-of-a-kind Flower of Rome.
Her confidence soaring and her vanity fully satisfied, Nero was grinning from ear to ear. Several times she nearly lost control and revealed her true bratty nature.
Fortunately, under the pressure of the Divine Ancestor Romulus's presence, the girl still knew how to restrain herself and obediently endured until the eulogy ended.
Then the majestic Divine Ancestor of Rome led Nero up onto the great altar. Beneath the twelve descending halos, he spread his arms and gathered into being the weapon that had once belonged to Ares, the Spear of Nation-Building.
Bang!
Romulus cut open Nero's palm, seized the spear shaft, and drove it into the center of the great altar. Instantly, the variegated radiance above the Pantheon spread in every direction, and heaven and earth thundered.
The Spear of Nation-Building, its tail embedded in the rock, absorbed the Divine Ancestor's magical power along with the new emperor's blood. It devoured the surrounding Ether wildly and swelled at a visible rate, growing almost in an instant into a towering tree that covered most of the city.
Its faintly glowing green shade pulsed in rhythm with the heartbeat of the entire city, forging an indescribably mysterious connection between Nero and this land.
"Nero, my beloved child, bearer of sacred Venus blood, embodiment of Rome's glory and shadow, an emperor like my own sister, I love you, and Rome loves you!
"In recognition of your service to the Empire, I hereby grant you the Emperor's authority. May you continue to defend Rome!"
As Romulus made his generous proclamation, he accepted the laurel crown presented by the white-robed priest and slowly, solemnly placed that honor and responsibility upon Nero's head.
Boom!
At that very moment, a blazing golden-red pillar of light pierced through the jade-colored sky and smashed down toward the great altar before the Pantheon with overwhelming force.
"I stand upon the Seven Hills!"
Romulus pressed one hand against the trunk of the towering tree formed from the Spear of Nation-Building and shouted sternly.
In an instant, the earth shook violently. Seven rock barriers burst up from the ground and rose before the golden-red pillar, blocking and tearing it apart.
Amid the dazzling wash of Ether, the sky cracked like a mirror. From the fissure emerged a colossal ship engraved with golden cobra reliefs and shining with the brilliance of the solar disk. Standing at the prow with arms folded, a figure looked down haughtily at the Pantheon and burst into mocking laughter.
"Upon this earth, the Pharaoh is omnipotent! All things and all phenomena lie within my grasp! Romulus, if you intended to divide the land and enthrone a king, why did you not invite this king to witness it?"
Romulus gripped the trunk of the divine tree, maintaining the giant tree barrier, his gaze turning cold and still.
The Pharaoh, Ramesses II!
The Egyptians mean to ruin today's coronation ceremony!
Samael's pupils contracted sharply, and he abruptly rose to his feet, rushing toward the front of the Pantheon.
But the instant he moved, the Ancient Serpent's expression suddenly darkened. Reflected in his pupils were two figures descending like meteors toward the open ground before the great hall, their brilliance fading as they fell.
God-class... two more!
It is not only Egypt trying to ruin the coronation ceremony!
The King of the Huns, Altera!
The King of Persia, Cyrus!
As the three divine monarchs walking the mortal world descended, the entirety of Palatine Hill erupted into shocked uproar.