Inside the hut, Samael flicked the two divine contracts with satisfaction, gently blowing the ink dry. He then pressed a wicked red dragon emblem into the blank space as his mark of witness before having the agreents exchanged and kept by both parties.
With the foundation of alliance and cooperation established, the atmosphere grew more harmonious. From there, Samael guided the discussion to the most critical issue.
How to ensure that this heir of the Gens Claudia could safely return to the City of Seven Hills, enter the Pantheon, and obtain Imperial Privilege.
The Pantheon. Imperial Privilege.
Romulus had fused divine authority with imperial power, blending artificial heroes and artificial gods into sothing entirely new. Ares truly had sired an extraordinary son.
The Ancient Serpent rose and gazed toward the direction of the City of Seven Hills, a trace of emotion stirring within him at how Ro had broken free from Greece's constraints and forged its present prosperity.
Of course, if one traced the roots of it all, by old habit he would first shoulder a share of the bla.
It had been the Golden Apple of Discord he once left to Athena that triggered division among the Olympian Gods during the Trojan War. In the end, in that great gamble, the old gods lost and were forced to drift to the Italian Peninsula, where they established Ro.
To achieve rapid integration among the peoples, secure a firm foothold, and restore the worship of the gods, Romulus, son of Ares, took up that mission.
During his reign, the Hellenized population was divided into three tribes. Each tribe contained ten curiae, and each curia was further divided into ten clans, making a total of three hundred clans. Each clan selected one representative, modeling itself after the Greek citizen assembly and forming the chanism of Ro's Senate.
But as ti passed and the territory of the Roman Empire expanded, the old system gradually fell out of step with reality.
The three hundred clans declined and grew corrupt, while the power-fragnted Senate struggled to shoulder the burden of decision-making and defending Ro.
To encourage competition, the divine ancestor Romulus decided to use the Pantheon's divine authority to grant outstanding figures from the major clans the right to act in the na of the gods: Imperial Privilege.
Those Roman emperors invested with this authority received divine enhancent and greatly extended lifespans. Each held power over one province and one legion. They answered only to the Pantheon and the divine ancestor Romulus, enjoying significant autonomy within their territories. In truth, they were kings within a kingdom.
It was precisely because these Roman emperors were allowed to exercise their authority freely that the Roman Empire could withstand the pincer pressure of the Persian Empire and the Hun Empire and remain standing.
However, Ro's resources and land were limited. Not just anyone could enter the Pantheon, claim a share of its power, and be consecrated as an emperor.
At present, the Roman Empire possessed ten provinces, each sustaining roughly one legion.
To maintain its operations and preserve absolute military strength, the Pantheon directly controlled four provinces and four legions near the City of Seven Hills. The remaining six outer provinces and legions were reserved for imperial investiture.
In other words, aside from the divine ancestor Romulus, only six Roman emperors could be consecrated as gods at any given ti.
Unless an existing emperor fell, the Pantheon would not easily add new seats and dilute its own authority.
For these six positions, the original three hundred clans that founded Ro had fought through countless rounds of competition over the millennia, enduring Ro's repeated cycles of rise and decline. In the end, this struggle forged the six most powerful and competitive great clans.
Under normal circumstances, the six emperors would each be selected from one of these six great clans, either as mbers of their bloodlines or as candidates they supported.
Among them, the unscrupulous rchant Caesar, who had brought disaster upon Britannia, represented Gens Julia.
Claudius I and Nero both ca from Gens Claudia.
The remaining four great clans were Gens Cornelia, Gens Aemilia, Gens Fabius, and Gens Manlius.
However, because the previous emperor of Gens Claudia, Claudius I, had died so suddenly, real power fell into the hands of Nero's mother, Agrippina the Younger.
As a result, even if Nero returned to the City of Seven Hills bearing the rit of receiving the Celts, her path to being invested as emperor would not necessarily be smooth.
However, the most urgent matter was still ensuring a safe return journey.
After discussing it, Samael, Boudica, and Nero decided to spend a week recuperating in the forests of Britannia. That would give them ti to gather personnel and make thorough preparations.
During that ti, they would also observe the movents and reactions of the Seventh Legion and determine a viable route back to the City of Seven Hills.
As for the remaining problems, they would deal with them once they arrived in Ro.
Both sides of the alliance agreed without objection, and the preliminary plan was settled.
After such an intense and tedious discussion, Nero was bored to tears. She yawned repeatedly, and the mont the eting ended, she staggered out of the hut.
With matters resolved, Boudica stayed behind to help Brynhildr clear the table. After seeing the Valkyrie off, she glanced at Samael several tis. A faint crease lingered between her brows, her expression troubled as if she wanted to speak but hesitated.
"Don't worry. We'll depart for Ro in seven days. I'll travel with you. If necessary, I'll step in to help. Free of charge."
Samael swirled the ad in his cup and took a leisurely sip before turning to the Celtic queen with a relaxed smile.
"The Celts will rember your generosity."
Boudica placed a hand over her chest and offered him a solemn gesture of gratitude.
"No need. It's nothing more than a passing effort. Besides, I'm not entirely without selfish motives."
Samael waved it off casually. His gaze drifted back to the sand table. With mild interest, he moved a small silver swordsman chess piece he had been using for amusent, adjusting its route and pushing it forward. The vague doubts in his mind gradually sharpened, his suspicions solidifying.
Judging from the recent frequency and range of Hun cavalry movents, Attila's appearance was no coincidence.
She was deliberately advancing toward the diterranean. Britannia was simply a convenient springboard.
The diterranean. Greece. Athens. The Sea of Okeanos. The continent of Atlantis.
Could sothing there be drawing Attila closer?
The core of Velber had already been shattered. What else could possibly remain? He could not make sense of it.
Still, whether he understood it or not, preventing the Hun cavalry from pushing past Ro was the correct move.
Facilitating an alliance between the Celts and the Romans would strengthen the broader Hellenized bloc, further restrain the Hun advance, and indirectly ease the pressure on Greece.
For the sake of the overall strategy, lending Nero and Boudica a hand was only natural.
The Ancient Serpent pressed his fingers lightly to his temples and leaned back in his chair. From the corner of his eye, he watched Boudica tidying the hut. A faint fragrance drifted toward him. The corners of his lips curved upward as he unconsciously breathed in a little deeper.
Self-interest? Perhaps that counted.
"Before she becos your ally, she's still just a child who grew up in a distorted family. For soone guided by emotion, bonds built on feeling are often stronger than those forged by shared interests."
The aningful words reached Boudica's ears, and she paused mid-motion.
"You've gotten along well so far. Keep it that way. Don't force it."
Samael stretched lazily and rose from his seat, speaking as if to himself.
Boudica recalled the past few days, and understanding dawned on her face as she looked at his retreating figure with complicated emotions.
Allowing the two allies to build rapport and form genuine ties.
So that was why he had left the girl to her own devices.
This quiet support had begun long ago.
After a mont's hesitation, Boudica stepped forward. She bit her lower lip lightly, her unease slipping out despite herself.
"How should I repay your kindness? Please, tell plainly."
The mont the words left her mouth, she regretted them, her expression turning awkward.
The bargain her late husband had made with Caesar had nearly cost Britannia its future. Since then, she had grown overly wary of favors from outsiders.
"Repay ? You're right. A god's gift requires an equal price. And my help benefits both of you. Let think how to calculate it… Ah, I've got it."
Samael nodded seriously and stroked his chin in exaggerated thought. Then he stepped to the doorway, snapped his fingers, and turned back with a smile.
"The price: one bowl of at soup and seven days of hospitality."
Boudica froze once more. After a brief silence, the tension in her shoulders eased. She lifted her head and smiled softly.
"I understand. Then good night, Lord Samael."
Samael blinked for a mont, then broke into a bright laugh.
"All right. I'll be off then. See you in the morning."
He waved lightly and strode into the night.
Boudica watched his figure fade into the darkness, shaking her head with a quiet chuckle. A strange warmth filled her chest.
Before Nero could beco an ally, she first needed to be treated as a child.
As for the being before her, he could be revered as a god or treated as a friend.
A god's gift was too costly for her to bear. But a friend's goodwill could be repaid with sincere feeling.
A friend.
That sounded just right.
User Comments
0 comments from readers