The sun was setting. After cleaning up the camp, they marched along the shoreline towards the western point of the island. Aside from some animals prowling about, there were hardly any disturbances. There weren’t even any straggler United Roman Empire forces, despite the legate’s forces and the two Servants searching and surveying the area. Were they all centered on the camps? It was hard to say overall, but there certainly weren’t any complaints.
The next evening, they arrived at the other United Roman Camp. This one was in far better condition since it wasn’t lit on fire. However, the casualties were more contained and total – all the soldiers, from the inhuman rank-and-file to the fully human officers were cut down within the camp. Multiple holes littered the outside of the palisades: evidence of Archer’s handiwork preventing any escapes. There were even some boats left adrift just off the shore – actual Roman warships as opposed to the jury-rigged boats the Roman Empire currently had.
Evander was more than pleased with their work and set the troops to get to work with clean-up – disposing of corpses and getting the blood off the ground and tents, leaving the field medics to dissect the inhuman soldiers, inventorying supplies, and of course, securing the ships. All in all, morale was incredibly high as they worked. Casualties had basically been zero aside from one or two injured and they secured more supplies. The soldiers cheered that it was an auspicious start to the campaign, inhuman soldiers aside, and cheered the auxiliaries and their efforts.
And yet despite everything, Morgana wasn’t happy. Sitting on top of a nearby hill, he watched the soldiers within the captured camp work. Moreover, he stared at the corpses as they were being moved. Sure, they weren’t human and sure, he didn’t kill them directly, but…
He stared down at his paws. Regardless of everything, the intent was there. In their adventures, the Phantom Thieves had been fairly ruthless overall, dispatching shadows and dealing with Palace rulers without issue. But that didn’t matter too much - after all, shadows were nothing more than just duplications from the Sea of Souls. Even when Ren contracted with them, it was essentially securing a ‘link’ to them in the Sea proper. In a way, the shadows they fought were kind of a similar concept to Servants.
Morgana laid back, trying to wrestle with his thoughts. If that’s the case, where did they draw the line? Where could they draw the line? The Phantom Thieves agreed to no killing, but how much could they stretch that for Servants? Would killing those inhuman soldiers be fine? Could they strike with killing intent in the real world as opposed to just the Metaverse?
And that was the other point: this was the real world, not the Metaverse. In the Metaverse, things were ironically easy – there were cognitions, shadows, and Palace rulers. Everything was one or the other. Cognitions could be shadows and vice versa, but Palace rulers were Palace rulers. It drew a clear line on who to deal with and who to spare. But the real world had no such easy labels. If they became as ruthless as they were in the Metaverse, there was a high possibility of making a critical mistake they couldn’t easily fix.
He sighed. This was complicated.
“You seem troubled.”
The catlike being blinked and looked up to see Archer approaching him. He crossed his arms as he watched the Roman soldiers in the camp work. “We have a decent start to this campaign, Master, do not worry about that,” he reassured him. “It’s better if we conserve as many of the Roman forces as we can before the final push. We’ll need to be cautious but it shouldn’t be anything we can’t handle.”
“Oh, er, yeah,” Morgana muttered. “Yeah, that’s true. We can’t let our guard down even though we’ve won – that’s bitten us in the rear too many times already. But hey, a win is a win! I’ll take what we can get!”
Archer nodded before glancing down at his Master. “Were you concerned about the death you witnessed at the camps?” he asked. A flinch from him answered his question. “Witnessing deaths is never easy at the beginning unless you’re some sort of monster,” he admitted, looking back at the soldiers disposing of the bodies – in this case, immolating them as nobody wanted whatever they were to taint the ground.
“’At the beginning’?” Morgana echoed, staring at Archer as the implication immediately hit.
The red-mantled hero was silent for a second. “I’ve seen much death, Master,” he explained quietly. “Both by my hands and by the hands of others. It is irrevocable and some might consider unforgivable, yet sometimes, to achieve what you wish, you will tread upon countless bodies just for a chance to reach them. Eventually, you simply accept it as normal.”
A small, bitter smile twisted his lips. “It is something many heroic spirits are familiar with,” he added.
Morgana gulped as he stared back down at the camp, his mind racing. “Do… do you think we’re naïve?” he questioned. “That we think we can do this without killing or… or being killed in turn?”
“I do,” Archer replied without a hint of hesitation. “The course the two of you have chosen – three if we count in Ritsu – is undoubtedly naïve, and is a mindset that our enemies won’t hesitate to take advantage of if they discover it. Often, a war is won by those who are willing to sacrifice and remove whoever or whatever needs to be removed, one way or another. Elimination is usually the fastest, neatest method.”
The catlike being’s ears drooped sadly in consideration. “That being said,” he continued, once more catching Morgana’s attention. “Both you and Ren are extremely irregular, even by magi or Servant standards. Your methods have secured us a new ally – Joan – and made killing her to be an outright detriment. And you have also saved the life of another: the former director, even if she is currently unavailable.”
Morgana blinked in surprise at Archer’s calm analysis, at a loss for words. The ren-mantled hero smirked at him. “Whatever your methods or tactics, they are currently working,” he concluded. “So right now, any protests I have are merely personal in nature. Just as before, you have my support, Master. And if harsher actions need to be taken, then rely on us to do so. At the very least, there will be no need to stain your hands directly.”
Directly, he said. Morgana twiddled his paws. “And… what if we already spilled blood?” he asked, almost whispering. “We did order you to deal with those United Roman Empire soldiers before, and I’m pretty sure those were… were humans.”
Archer silently gazed at Morgana, watching him. “Do you regret it?” he asked.
The question caught Morgana by surprise. Did he regret it? It was in the heat of the moment and those soldiers needed to be dealt with back in Appia Road, but there was no such excuse in Florence. Perhaps they could’ve been terrified away or at least dealt with, like being put to sleep, but that would have cost them time that he frankly wasn’t sure they had. It also secured the good graces of emperor Nero. All in all, the battles and resulting victories had been quite advantageous for Chaldea overall.
But on the other hand, there were no small number of bodies and casualties from the battles. How many people were dead on their orders? Servants or not, they did give the order. They were just as responsible. “I… I don’t know,” he murmured. “Maybe in that moment there was nothing else we could’ve done but… there… there had to be another way….”
The red mantled hero stared hard at Morgana before he finally sighed, his expression softening. “In a war, things very rarely go to plan,” he stated. “Especially when it comes to casualties. We were certainly fortunate in this scenario for everything to go so well, but it’s a rarity and luxury we can’t afford.”
“Heh, even after nearly getting my head punched off?” Morgana joked humorlessly.
Archer matched his smile, just as humorless. “Even after that, we were fortunate,” he replied bluntly.
Morgana sighed and twiddled with his paws. As much as he wanted to argue against what Archer said, he really couldn’t. He sighed. There really wasn’t much he could do at this point besides ruminate some more. He glanced over at his wrist where the communicator was strapped on. At least he could distract himself as he stood up. “I’m gonna contact Chaldea and see if I can talk with Ren,” he decided. “Archer, can you keep a lookout just in case something happens?”
The Servant nodded. “Of course, Master,” he replied calmly. He watched as Morgana walked off back towards his tent. He had contemplated asking him about the world that he and Ren denied, but frankly it would’ve been pointless. Besides, the Master seemed to have enough troubles already.
He thought back to Artoria’s words. If his heart was changed, would he also end up desiring a perfect world too? A world where his now-mundane dreams and desires would be fulfilled? Would that ultimately satisfy him?
Would he truly be happy?
Archer only sighed and shook his head before moving to a better vantage point. This was becoming a bad habit now. Probably better to focus on the present. And right after thinking that, he could already imagine a certain twin-tailed girl laughing at him. He could only smile to himself.
----------
“Can you describe what you mean by ‘inhuman’?”
Da Vinci sat at the control console, looking at the monitors where both Ren and Morgana were displayed, each in their own window. Though her ever-present smile was on her face, her mind was as always moving a thousand miles a second, moving through evidence and coming to countless conclusions and solutions. She had relieved Roman for a bit as he went to get some coffee. It was almost evening for the singularity so closer monitoring wouldn’t be too necessary. The staff on shift should be able to handle it and knew to call them if something happened.
That being said, it seemed every day brought some new complications.
“There’s really no better way to describe it,” Morgana’s voice echoed through. “These… soldiers don’t have eyes here, and they don’t even bleed blood. Just some sort of… transparent gunk. The legate’s medics are trying to figure out what they are but so far, they can’t make heads or tails of it. The only thing we can tell is that it’s not immediately dangerous but we’re still trying not to touch it as much as we can.”
“Do either Archer or Rider have any ideas?” Da Vinci asked.
She watched as the catlike being shook his head. “They have a few guesses,” he replied. “They both believe that they’re some sort of… constructs, I guess? We’re not exactly sure if it’s from the Grail or from something else though. At the very least, they seem to need orders to function properly – all the officers we’ve found here have been fully human. We haven’t been able to capture any though for more information.”
The Caster mulled over the information, then turned to the other window. “What about you, ragazzo?” she inquired. “Have you come across these kinds of soldiers yourself?”
Ren shook his head as well. “So far, we haven’t encountered anybody,” he replied, his voice crackling over the speakers. “No enemy soldiers or anything – it’s been a relatively smooth march overall. The only issues have been internal but it’s no big deal.”
“Wait, internal?” Morgana interjected. “Joker, what happened? Is everything alright?”
The Phantom Thief sighed tiredly. “Just something I REALLY should’ve dealt with earlier regarding Joan,” he admitted. “It’s nothing too serious but I have some work to do on my end. It’s nothing that’ll get in the way. Other than that, we should be at Mediolanum by tomorrow or so. What about you, Morgana?”
Morgana frowned in concern but answered anyway. “They’re getting the captured ships ready to go,” he replied. “Some of the soldiers are also checking in with some nearby villages to get information. We’ll probably set sail the day after tomorrow unless the legate had other plans. For now, we’re just holding down the fort here.”
Da Vinci nodded. “Very well,” she stated conclusively. “We shall look into these soldiers on our end and see what we can find. Until then, both of you are to rest as much as you can. This will be a long campaign and keeping your energy up is important. Do you understand, ragazzo? Gatto?” She looked at the two with each term.
Both of them blinked in surprise before almost simultaneously sighing and nodding. “Got it, Da Vinci,” Ren replied with a rueful smile. Morgana just looked tired.
The inventor nodded with satisfaction. “Good,” she said. “Now until our next meeting, ciao!” With that, she shut off the communications so the two could get some rest, leaving her to sit back against her seat with a sigh of her own. Even for a genius of her caliber, acting as some form of military commander was rather taxing. It was a wonder that Romani was able to handle this.
“So far, so good?”
Speak of the devil. The Caster blinked as she glanced over to see the doctor approaching, holding two steaming mugs of coffee. She gratefully accepted one. “Ah, some complications,” she explained. “Apparently the gatto has come across some… inhuman Roman soldiers. Archer and Rider believe them to be constructs but aren’t sure yet. The ragazzo has some trouble with Lancer. Other than that, everything is going smoothly.”
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Roman raised an eyebrow. “This is going smoothly?” he asked incredulously.
Da Vinci giggled. “Do remember I lived in the Renaissance, Romani,” she reminded him. “What you would consider chaos or a mess is quite normal for me. Besides, I have full faith in the ragazzo and gatto to navigate their respective troubles.” The doctor gave her a skeptical stare before sighing with a shrug, accepting her judgement.
She took a sip of the coffee – and winced at the acrid, bitter taste. “More of your handiwork, I presume?” she asked, glancing up at him.
The doctor laughed sheepishly in answer. “I’m still learning,” he admitted. “I should probably hold off until Ren gets back. At least I didn’t use any of the good beans for roasting or he’d probably get angry.” He took a sip of his own and also winced. “Ugh, didn’t think it’d be this difficult to do,” he lamented quietly.
The Caster nodded thoughtfully. “Have you had dinner yet?” she asked, glancing over at him.
The question caught him off guard. “Um, I haven’t yet,” he replied. “I’ve been a bit busy. I’ll monitor them for a bit longer, then grab a bite to eat.”
“It’s almost night over in the singularity,” Da Vinci pointed out. “They’ll most likely be asleep soon and won’t require monitoring. You, on the other hand, have been taking care of yourself less and less, even with all the amenities here and especially compared to the Masters who are on the field.” Roman winced at the rebuke, only proving her words correct – as they always were.
She could only sigh as she stood up. “Come now, we have time,” she stated. “Leave it to Da Vinci to make us something for a repast. And I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” Indeed, before the doctor could counter or make some sort of argument, Da Vinci had already grabbed him by the collar and was dragging him towards the cafeteria.
“D-don’t I get a say in this?!” he spluttered.
“No,” she responded simply, her ever-present smile widening further.
----------
“I didn’t know you knew how to cook,” Roman marveled.
“An artist must be gifted in many fields, especially a genius like me,” Da Vinci giggled.
After shooing away the robotic chefs, Da Vinci had gotten to work cooking. It was a simple matter of popping into the back, grabbing the needed ingredients, and getting to work. Though she hadn’t tried her hand in a kitchen, she had seen dishes done before and memorized their recipes. Once she got to work, it honestly didn’t feel any more difficult than painting on a canvas or tinkering with a new project.
In the end, the result was two plates of spaghetti cacio e pepe. Pasta with just cheese and pepper, using starchy water from boiling the pasta as an emulsifier. A simple dish, but simpleness often had high emphasis on the fundamentals in turn. That and she also didn’t have much time to work with. Working on commissions certainly taught her how to budget her time as necessary.
As she laid the dishes out, she also pulled out a bottle of wine. “Er, should we be drinking on the job?” Roman asked nervously.
The Caster raised an eyebrow. “You know better than anyone a glass isn’t going to affect us, Romani,” she admonished before pouring out two glasses. As she looked up, she saw Marie quietly usher everyone else out of the room – especially the onlookers who were watching in curiosity what the two were doing.
Before Marie left herself, she glanced up. The eyes of the two Servants met. The Rider simply smiled, raised a finger to her lips and winked, then stepped out. Da Vinci’s smile turned into one of exasperation. Oh, she wasn’t hearing the end of this one anytime soon, was she? Romani didn’t seem to notice anyone leaving, instead focusing on the food and wine.
She pulled up a seat and sat down across the counter of Roman. “Well, shall we?” she asked.
The doctor blinked in surprise then nodded. Picking up a fork, he took a bite of the pasta – and his eyes immediately lit up. “Wow, this is great!” he exclaimed. “I’m kicking myself for not trying your cooking sooner!”
The Caster’s smile widened as she picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, enjoying the mellow flavor of the liquor. “Oh? Is it to your tastes that much?” she asked.
Roman nodded enthusiastically. “Heh, I might ask for you to cook for me every day at this rate!” he added. Then he immediately froze at the implication as he immediately, fearfully looked back up at Da Vinci, who now had a smile akin to the Cheshire cat. “E-er, I m-mean, your c-cooking is great and I certainly wouldn’t m-mind eating it every day,” he stammered as his face got redder and redder. “I don’t mean m-much else b-besides that-“
His excuses were interrupted by Da Vinci’s clear, amused laughter. “You talk and think far too much, Romani,” she replied, her mirth still dancing in her eyes. “But then, with your new duties, that’s all you have been doing, isn’t it?”
The interim director blinked, then sighed in exhaustion, his shoulders sagging. “That’s putting it lightly,” he grumbled. “Trying to understand Ren and Morgana’s experience and abilities, dealing with the staff, managing supplies, looking for singularities and any strange readings…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And not to mention all the paperwork,” he added. “I’ll be buried alive at this rate.”
He stopped and sighed again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be complaining so much,” he apologized sheepishly. “Not after you made such a great meal. We should just-“ He was interrupted by a flick in the forehead by the Caster. “Ow!” he yelped, holding his forehead. “Was that really necessary, Da Vinci?”
“Yes,” she stated bluntly. “Just because you have a lot to do or complain about it doesn’t mean I don’t wish to hear about it. And besides, you are working on solving them, are you?”
Roman blinked in surprise. “Well, as much as I can,” he admitted.
Da Vinci nodded with satisfaction. “Then no excuses,” she admonished. “I want to hear all about it. After all, I’m the Uomo Universale. There are very few problems I can’t help with or at least listen to and consider. However, it doesn’t exactly help if you clam up and don’t talk about them, Romani Archaman. Besides, I’m sure you’ve already talked about all your problems with Magi*Mari, did you not?”
The doctor froze. “Uh…”
His hesitance was rewarded with another flick to the forehead from an unamused Da Vinci. This time, Roman didn’t protest, just rubbing his sore forehead. “How about, whatever you ramble about to Magi*Mari, you ramble to me,” she suggested. “After all, a universal genius should be better than a vtuber who verbally abuses you, no?”
Roman stared at Da Vinci. “Uh… y-you sure about that?” he stammered, already cringing deep within as he tried to collect himself.
The Caster thought about teasing Roman some more but thought better of it. Fun as it was, it wouldn’t do to go too far. Instead, she reached over and placed her hand on Roman’s own, causing the doctor to blink again in surprise. “You hide almost as many secrets as the ragazzo and the gatto,” she murmured almost to herself, causing the doctor to gulp nervously.
Instead, she smiled at him. “I am also responsible for Chaldea too, no?” she pointed out. “Please, do not hesitate to talk to me about its various problems – or its various triumphs, however small. Or yours for that matter. Even my smaller projects succeeding is a reason for celebration, and every fault or disaster a lesson to learn. So please, although you carry a hefty responsibility, allow me to help you.”
The doctor’s mouth dropped open slightly before he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright, you got me,” he admitted, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll try to talk with you more about what’s going on from now on. And… uh… less Magi*Mari. Although…” Da Vinci blinked in surprise at his sudden hesitance but waited regardless.
“Maybe we could do this a bit more often?” he suggested sheepishly. “Just, y’know, grabbing some food and wine or something while we talk? Or even some coffee once Ren gets back?”
Da Vinci could only blink several times before breaking into giggles again – a far happier sound than just a moment ago. “Why, my dear Romani,” she cooed. “I thought that was a given~ But just to make sure, of course. I look forward to when we do this next.”
She raised her glass. “To the future?” she asked.
Roman took his own and clinked it. “To the future,” he toasted before taking a sip himself. Even he was surprised at how good the wine was. Da Vinci certainly wasn’t the type to skimp out. Then a question snuck into his mind that he hadn’t had a chance to ask. “Actually, Da Vinci,” he asked slowly. “How DID you find out those two were the Phantom Thieves in the first place?”
The Uomo Universale blinked at the question, then grinned. “Well, you see, speaking as one, geniuses aren’t known to be subtle…” she began.
----------
Mediolanum was a much larger town, comparable to Rome than Florence. Sitting right at the entrance of the Italian peninsula, it was the hub of trade and military alike. As such, wealth had flowed into the city and expanded it greatly. It had been a prosperous city, sprawling over a great amount of land and richly adorned. In times of peace, it would’ve made a great place for merchants and tourists alike.
However, now the situation was much like it was in Rome: Very deserted, with parts of the beautiful architecture disassembled and made into impromptu fortifications as necessary, with soldiers either acting as sentries or patrolling the streets as officers barked orders to soldiers as they worked and trained. Citizens scurried about, either doing their jobs or trying to get home as soon as they could.
All around, it was about as depressing as Rome was.
The soldiers had situated themselves in empty houses scattered around the entire city while the Chaldeans as well as Nero had taken the governor’s house. He had defected, recaptured, and executed and thus currently, it was under Roman military jurisdiction. Thus, there was no issue for them to take over the residence. And besides, it already served as the headquarters.
That being said, two particular characters were there to greet them. One was a somewhat short Asian woman with long, tied-up black hair wearing white robes and slippers. The robe was especially loose below, allowing her surprisingly powerful legs to be shown. She also held an earthenware jug that she was drinking liberally out of – and judging by how flushed she was, it was clear that it was alcohol.
Ren could only sigh to himself when he saw that. Again, like with Nero, he could only hope she wasn’t at Ohya’s level. Actually, watching the woman chug down the liquor like it was water, she wasn’t at Ohya’s level – the reporter would’ve died of alcohol poisoning long ago if she even tried to match her.
The other was a massive man towering over all of them. He was adorned in garish armor, the most particular feature were two long red feather-like decorations out of the tiny hat he wore. The man’s skin was a dead grey color, and he wore face paint which emphasized his oddly blank white eyes. In his hand, he wielded a mighty halberd. However, there was an aura of malevolent strength and power that put Ren on his guard. All his instincts screamed at him to not trust the man and frankly, he was inclined to agree.
“Er, are you… nervous, Caster?”
At Ritsu’s question, the Phantom Thief blinked as he looked over and saw that Caster had retreated a bit and was almost hiding behind the girl. “What? A p-preposterous notion,” she dismissed, though the nervous flick of her tail belied her words.
He decided to push the topic. “You know him?” Ren asked.
The Caster looked over at Ren and, seeing she wasn’t fooling anybody, sighed. “A few faint memories,” she admitted. “And none of them good.”
She immediately shot them warning glares. “Whatever you do,” she warned. “Do not trust the man. Even if he seems to have taken leave of his senses, he is perhaps almost as untrustworthy as our Avenger here.”
Loki faked a mortal blow. “Such harsh criticism!” they gasped dramatically. “What have I ever done to deserve such words?” Then they dropped the act and gave a sardonic grin. “Still, Caster speaks truth. Best watch your steps, Masters.”
Ren glanced over at Joan. Ever since that night, the Lancer had been avoiding pretty much everyone. Any responses from her were either terse, monosyllabic words or death glares. Even the ever-bubbly Ritsu and the shy but polite and gentle Mash were more or less shooed away. Ren had informed them of what was going on and Tamamo had been keeping a closer eye on her but so far, she wasn’t causing trouble. She just preferred to be left alone.
He sighed. Ever since the start of these missions he hadn’t been his usual self. He couldn’t exactly be blamed, as his world literally burned to ash, with all his friends and family now gone. He should’ve addressed this far earlier and now he was suffering the consequences of his hesitation. He needed to do better.
Nero whirled around to face them. “Welcome to Mediolanum, my auxiliaries!” she cried. “Here are two people that have been called to assist Rome in this time of need! Please step forward and introduce yourselves!”
The young woman sauntered forward with an easy grin. “Good afternoon,” she greeted cordially, despite her obvious state of drunkenness. “I am Jing Ke – Assassin class. Although I am a failure of an assassin, I hope we get along.” She grinned broadly. “It’s not often I get another chance at another assassination of an emperor,” she added. “I hope to remove that stain from my record.”
Ren and Ritsu blinked in surprise, with the latter unsubtly looking towards Nero. Jing Ke caught her glance and chuckled. “No, no, not her, though I understand the confusion,” she clarified, amused. “I believe one of the enemy leaders is Julius Caesar, correct? That would be my target.”
Loki grinned and was about to say something before Ren shot him a warning glare. The Avenger immediately raised his hands in surrender with a sardonic smile. Ren could only sigh to himself – the less trouble the better. And frankly, he knew the trickster god was going to point out assassins with Roman politics or something – not what they needed right now.
Jing Ke then pointed behind her at the bigger man. Her friendly demeanor dropped with a scowl. “And the big guy there is Lu Bu,” she explained. “Thankfully he’s a Berserker class so we don’t have to worry too much about his tendencies. Just point him in a direction and let him loose.” The sudden hostility from Jing Ke caught Ren off-guard as he glanced over that the Berserker. The name sounded very familiar, but it was just at the tip of his tongue…
A gasp from Ritsu immediately caught his attention as he turned towards the rapidly paling girl. “W-wait, Lu Bu?” she squeaked. “Th-THAT Lu Bu?”
The Assassin nodded grimly. Ren was about to ask when he felt the baleful eyes of the Berserker rest on him and the group. They were some distance away but even he felt the power of the Servant that sent him on edge. Tamamo let out an inadvertent squeak as Loki’s grin grew even wider. Joan already had her hand at her sword, ready to draw at a moment’s notice.
Then Ren remembered his history lesson: Lu Bu was the infamous warrior from China’s Warring States period. Though he didn’t know too much about the man, there were really two major points about him he recalled – his martial prowess and his penchant for backstabbing. Suddenly, Jing Ke’s displeasure as well as Ritsu and Tamamo’s fears fell into place. No wonder they were so cautious.
He looked back at Nero who was still smiling, but he could see it was a very strained smile – for good reason too. Two of her strongest allies were an assassin aiming for emperors (who thankfully wasn’t aiming for her) and one of the most traitorous warriors in known history. He didn’t know how loyal they were but judging by how Nero was acting, it wasn’t anywhere close to enough.
Things got a lot more complicated.
Suddenly a soldier came running up towards them. “I-Imperator!” he panted.
“Speak,” Nero demanded.
“We have an enemy force incoming,” he gasped out. “A few days march away. They’re advancing on Mediolanum.”
Nero frowned. “How many?” she asked as the Chaldeans listened closely. Even Lu Bu was paying more attention to the news now than the group.
The soldier shook his head. “We lost count at around a few thousands,” he replied. “And we saw great beings of stone marching with them. And… and we might have had a sighting of King Leonidas.”
That caused everyone’s faces to fall. “Are you certain of this?” Nero demanded. “Were you not able to verify all of this? Where are the other scouts?”
“They were found and k-killed, Imperator,” the soldier stammered. “Our d-deepest apologies.”
The emperor blinked, nonplussed, then sighed in frustration. “It’s fine,” she assured him. “Well done, soldier. Find legate Asisculus and have him meet us in the governor’s house.” The soldier saluted and ran off as she turned to the Chaldeans. “I have asked much of you, and unfortunately, I have to ask yet more,” she murmured. “Will you still stand by my side?”
There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation with Ren’s reply. “Of course,” he stated. “Now, let’s go – we have a lot to do and very little time to do it.”
Nero blinked in surprise before grinning – this time in genuine happiness. “Well said, auxiliary! Actually, no,” she added, stopping herself. “Centurion! Ren Amamiya, I hereby grant you the rank of centurion! Bear the rank with pride, for you have earned it with your command! Now, let us go!”
With that, Nero marched off towards the house, her expression turning into one of grim determination out of eyeshot as she heard her allies congratulating Ren on his promotion. It seemed the United Roman Empire had finally stopped screwing around and was getting serious. She was at a serious disadvantage in manpower and resources. The situation was dire.
Yet she had her allies. She had her people. And most of all, she had herself.
Regardless of everything, Nero smiled. They would win. Rome would win. She would make sure of it.