B3 Chapter 70: King of the Gods

Tiberius strode through the streets of Novara’s capital flanked by Legionnaire guards on either side. Although technically, that wasn’t accurate. Now that Novara had been conquered, the city could be better known as Rome’s capital, until such time that he deemed another city more fitting, of course. But the place had many benefits as a seat of power for now. Though it would perhaps need a new name.

“Long live the emperor!”

The shout echoed in countless throats as the local populace cheered on his passing. Crowds grew to fill the newly broadened streets before him, held back by the preemptive barriers and cordons the Legionnaires had erected. It was not nearly as raucous as a true Roman mob. But then, these people were still assimilating. Such things would come with time.

Managing the crowd still took more men than he would have liked—men that could have been put to use in other contexts. But it was necessary. Traversing the streets without such measures would quickly find him overwhelmed. Besides, being seen in public like this served to strengthen morale and his image among the people.

Tiberius waved to the crowd, projecting his [Regal Bearing] outward. From working with the remaining Novaran nobility that hadn’t been executed or jailed, he gathered that the skill both inspired confidence and loyalty in those affected by it. Even now, he heard the cheers amplify in his passing. Yet another reason for him to walk amongst the commoners.

He felt a ripple through the air as Lucius activated a privacy skill of his. The cheers of the crowd muffled, and the aide’s quiet words carried easily to his ears. “Sir. There is word from Habersville that the first elven delegation has arrived at the border. The High Priest and a handful of historians are among them.”‘

Tiberius spoke quietly despite the bubble around them. “Historians?”

“Yes, sir. They claim to bear tomes on their people’s history, copied and preserved for centuries and retrieved at your request.”

He hummed thoughtfully. The fact that the elves had even mobilized this quickly was a small miracle. Apparently, his emphasis on haste had not gone unremarked. And the historical tomes… those would prove quite useful indeed. Any knowledge of the last empire would prove invaluable. He was particularly curious about how closely its laws and customs mirrored the ones he was familiar with—and how it had fallen. The parallels and differences between Rome in this world and his would undoubtedly help him to refine the framework they were already making.

“A few centurions have reported strange cases of missing Novarans they are looking into. I will inform you when we have more information, should it continue to be an issue. There are also several suggested laws the nobles have put forth for your review,” Lucius continued. “Most are clearly attempts to undermine your authority or carve out comfortable niches for themselves in Roman society. Yet some have at least a speck of merit to them.”

Tiberius’s most trusted aide continued to brief him as they walked, interrupted only by the orders Tiberius issued in response. Fixing the economy, replacing outdated laws, and implementing new ones that best suited this world's unique environment—given the ever-growing pile of work on his plate, even this time could not be wasted.

Already, he'd gained some inspiration from the elves during his brief visit. Seeing how they'd integrated Roman law and customs into their own civilization had given him quite a bit of insight into the matter while also serving as a cautionary tale. Blindly trying to apply all of Rome’s old practices to these people was a recipe for failure.

The service requirement for citizenship was one particularly prominent example. In his old world, twenty-five years of auxiliary service was a reasonable expectation for one to become a Cives Romanus. Yet not all citizens had completed such service. Many were born to cives Romani parents instead, enjoying the benefits and rights earned by their forebears.

In his opinion, the practice had introduced too many problems. Even in his time, much of the empire's citizenry grew complacent. Men who were generations removed from service often lost their appreciation for their rights and the responsibilities that came with them. To the point that he considered making service a requirement for anyone to maintain their citizenship.

Yet that brought more issues. The knowledge that such benefits would not be passed down to children could indeed be taken poorly. Additionally, to be a Legionnaire, one traditionally had to be a citizen. Anyone else who wished to serve would be funneled into the auxiliaries, as they had done in Habersville. However… could they really afford to continue that practice?

Even if the auxiliaries appeared to confer more System benefits than initially expected, they were still nowhere near the strength of a full Legionnaire. And Tiberius could neither afford to wait for those auxiliaries to complete their service nor for his men’s future children to be born and trained. Most Novarans were currently peregrini, free subjects of the empire with far more limited rights. They would not be able to vote or become Legionnaires until they became cives Romani… Unless he changed things.

It was a complication that needed to be sorted out sooner rather than later. Especially before he began reinstating the Senate. The last thing he wanted was for Rome's governing body to be overrun by those who held no loyalty to her. Yet at the same time, ensuring that the populace had some sort of representation would do much to stall potential unrest, especially from a populace that outnumbered them. Though numbers hadn’t done much to save them from being conquered, men’s memories were all too short-lived.

Perhaps he would need to add another tier of citizenship to their system. One below the cives Romani, but above the peregrini. It would be the bare minimum to reconcile the property ownership of the remaining nobles with old Roman law, as he had absolutely no desire to confer citizenship upon them or seize the territory outright from those who managed it well. He dared not cheapen such things by casting weighty rights and responsibilities before these people like candy.

And he would almost certainly need to do away with the citizenship requirement for Legionnaires, if only to replenish their numbers.

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He considered the matter at length all the way until they reached the Temple District. A broad plaza ringed by various temples greeted them, their construction a mishmash of styles. Most of the older temples boasted gaudy ornamentation weathered by time and topped with ornate divine crests that Tiberius did not recognize. The newer ones, however, bore far more resemblance to what he was used to. Impressive pediments perched atop grand columns. Before them stood braziers of brass lit with flame, as well as impressive statues depicting the forms of the deities worshipped within.

Not all of the temples were in one piece, however. Many of the Roman gods were worshipped in houses that remained under construction, their faces and limbs peeking out of rough-hewn blocks of stone. It was work interrupted by more pressing matters across the empire—though it would be completed once the men in the west returned. That was what he’d promised the more devout of the men, at least.

The crowd of onlookers halted at its edge, apparently unwilling to bring their celebration into the place’s hallowed grounds. Though that was not to say the place was empty. Plenty of priests and worshippers walked and prayed within, some even practicing their crafts under the watch of their deities. A woman danced in front of a temple composed of stone that flowed like silk, and nearby, a collection of black-cloaked figures stood vigil before a foreboding black structure.

Many of the temple district’s inhabitants noted Tiberius’s entourage with interest, though others seemed too involved in their own business to care. He watched his men take careful note of those who seemed a little too disinterested or who darted into buildings at their passage.

He intended to head straight for the temples of the old gods, those native to Novara and this world. The temples of Kona and Arashim, two deities who had given the Legion trouble in the past, were of particular interest. But he found himself drawn in a different direction, first toward one of the few new temples that was actually complete.

As he approached the front steps of the temple, he found a priest already waiting. The man bowed his head. “Emperor Tiberius. We have been expecting you. Please, follow me.”

The priest turned and began to ascend without waiting for a response. Tiberius eyed the man a bit dubiously before following. The statement was likely an attempt to maintain the mysticism of the gods by suggesting they’d influenced him somehow. Whether or not that was actually true, he didn’t know. But given the fanfare his passing had stirred up, his arrival wasn’t exactly hard to predict or plan for.

They climbed the steps and stepped inside the temple. The air smelled different here, distinctly sharp and clean despite the smoke put out by the lit braziers. The interior combined aspects of both Roman architecture and the less flamboyant motifs of some of Novara’s temples to lend it a grandiose, yet reserved air. But the main attraction sat further back, presiding over all.

At the back of the room towered a handsome, wise figure seated on a throne. Above his head sat a resplendent eagle, its golden feathers glimmering in the sunlight as they splayed grandly to either side. One of his hands gripped a glasslike staff that crackled with contained lightning, while the other rested casually on one arm of the throne. A carved cape draped modestly over the man, yet displayed his prime physique for all to see.

Tiberius looked on at the larger-than-life statue of Jupiter. The sculpture was so well made that he half expected that the stone would feel warm to the touch. Some of the precious metal for its construction had been supplied by his own men willingly, while the rest… Well, that was a matter he hadn’t looked too deeply into. Such things had a habit of appearing among the men. Though all knew the consequences of stealing from Rome and her coffers.

The priest led them to the statue and the large brazier resting by its feet. Then, he turned and bowed to the emperor once more.

“Jupiter has seen your works and approves,” the priest smiled, straightening. “A wise ruler shall be needed to guide Rome back to its former glory. Yet wisdom alone cannot protect from all dangers. Should you desire his blessing… All you need to do is ask.”

Tiberius looked at the man. It was subtle, but he thought he saw flickers of blue occasionally light his grey irises.

He’d never been a particularly devout follower of any god. Even now, when they took a far more active hand in worldly matters, he hadn’t taken up prayer or offerings as regularly as many of the Legionnaires had.

And yet… was it wise to continue in such a manner? True, they had struck blows against gods who sought to destroy them before. But even that was accomplished with the aid of Mars. If he spurned such an offer of help due to his pride, would Rome suffer?

He stepped toward the brazier, contemplating the figure before him. It made him feel… small. Not just physically, but in the grand scheme of things.

Yet he refused to let himself be cowed. He had no intention of prostrating himself before this figure as the priests did. A god Jupiter may be, but even he had limits. Desires. Things that he wanted. And that meant he could be bargained with.

Jupiter, he silently prayed. I come to you with an offer. Grant me aid as I lead Rome and its people to glory. Give me wisdom and protection against those foreign influences who would seek to destroy the empire. In exchange, I shall grant you what you desire most—followers. Expansion. Growth beyond even that of the first Roman Empire in this world. Lead the gods to victory against your foes, as I shall lead Rome’s legions.

Tiberius’s hands removed the laurel crown from his head. Jupiter was the god of justice, the one who oversaw oaths and sacrifice. Given that, he felt it only fitting to offer the symbol of his station in this bargain. Given the priest's words, he doubted the god would spurn him by destroying it.

Without showing any of the hesitation he felt, Tiberius tossed the laurel crown into the brazier. A few of the people who had followed him into the temple gasped as the golden circlet landed amidst the flames. It began to glow a cherry red from the heat. Yet rather than melting as he’d expected, the circlet remained whole.

Jupiter’s eyes glowed a bright blue. A deafening crack sounded as the statue's staff flared, an arc of lightning striking the brazier and the crown both.

His vision went white. It took everything Tiberius had to avoid cowering like the other onlookers, and even then, he couldn't help but flinch.

When his vision cleared, he saw that the flame had been extinguished. Thin trails of smoke curled up from the blackened brazier. At its center sat the crown, seemingly untouched despite everything.

Tiberius stepped forward to retrieve the circlet. It hummed in his grasp. As he placed it back atop his head, Tiberius felt the thrum of boundless energy course through him like lightning in his veins.

Raising his head high, he nodded to the statue once. Then, he gestured to his retinue. “Come. It is time for us to meet with these high priests of lesser gods.”