B3 Chapter 71: Poor Prodigium

The exact nature of Tiberius’s plans remained relatively flexible. Despite the reports of his spies and informants indicating no obvious antagonism from the Novaran churches, he couldn’t help but suspect the reality was something far different.

Ideally, he hoped to open a dialogue with these church leaders. Whether that led to a truce, an open declaration of conflict, or nothing at all depended on them and their dispositions towards both him and Rome itself. Given his high charisma and quickly leveling [Diplomacy] skill, he expected to glean at least some insight into the matter, regardless of what faces they put on publicly. The church of Arashim at least had already made its intent clear by striking at the Legion during their invasion. And though they had already seen some consequences for that—both legal and in the court of public opinion, not to mention the many members of their clergy killed in the fighting—he had not yet taken time to denounce them fully as he should.

One had to be careful to move slowly when unseating a religion from a conquered populace. But he had an opportunity to do so now. Something which he could use to his advantage, as a partial pardon, could be leveraged during negotiations. Provided the men directly responsible paid the price, of course.

Of course, there was always the option of labeling these churches and their worshippers as enemies of the empire and rooting them out wholesale. But even if Tiberius had the manpower to do such a thing, it would be a short-term solution with long-lasting consequences. Religion was one of those things that people were quite protective over. Attempts to supplant it by force tended to result in stubborn resistance, especially since the Roman gods were still new to these people. But given enough time, they would fall on their own, their crumbling remnants forming a more stable foundation for the Romans to build upon. And others would fall with them.

Tiberus was a patient man. He intended for this empire to last centuries, if not millennia. And given the extended lifespans bequeathed by the System and its stats… what was a few generations of waiting in service toward that goal?

He didn’t truly expect to unearth some nefarious plot simply by visiting these churches. Nor did he truly think they would seek a peaceable arrangement. But even that would work in his favor. Approaching this with an outstretched hand and having it be slapped away would further corrode public opinion of these priests, given Tiberius’s growing popularity. And give him reason to come down on them, if they played things particularly poorly. Rome needed to show that it did not fear these other powers within Novara, that all were subject to the emperor.

Tiberius continued toward the old temples, the circlet humming softly upon his brow as guards ringed him. Their formation tightened as they neared, and Tiberius felt the warm aura of a protective skill envelop him. It didn’t take long to see why.

The further they proceeded, the more people seemed to disappear from the plaza before them. In their place appeared shadows peeking out of windows and around corners, disappearing just as quickly as they were noticed.

A moment of focus confirmed what Tiberius had suspected. More Legionnaires from within the city were converging on their position. He shot a subtle glance toward Lucius. It was answered with a nod. Backup, just in case things went awry. He suspected there were some hired adventurers around as well, but Tiberius wouldn’t rely on their loyalty. Not yet.

Tension began to build as Tiberius crossed the invisible line between the Roman temples and the temples of the old gods. Yet he continued without acknowledging the fact. He didn’t make it far before a few figures emerged from the temples around them. Figures in ornate robes and bearing resplendent symbols of office, each one ringed by a handful of comparatively plain priests. As one, the figures began an unhurried descent from their perches to congregate in the center of the plaza, directly in Tiberius’s path.

The emperor stopped before the group and regarded them. There were four leaders in total, all of them graying at the temples. The first was a round man with slicked hair whose robes were decorated with complex geometric shapes wrought in lustrous gold. They denoted him as an adherent of Arashim, god of wealth and architecture. The similarly resplendent hammer and quill embroidered on the second man’s large hat suggested he served Kona, the god of civilization. As for the other two, Tiberius was uncertain. One was a stern man who bore a set of scales in one hand, while the other’s dark robes hung loose from her stooped and gaunt frame.

His gaze swept across the four leaders. “Am I correct to assume that you are the leaders of your churches?”

“That is correct.” The high priest of Kona took a single ponderous step forward. “Emperor Tiberius Rufius Maro. Might I ask what brings you to our temple district?”

The lack of a bow did not escape him. Nor did the implication that his presence was somehow subject to the priests’ approval. The man’s moves were carefully calculated to show only the bare minimum of necessary deference without actually subjugating himself.

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He leveled a cool stare at the priest. “You speak as though your temples are not built within my jurisdiction.”

The priest smiled. “Forgive me. I mean no offense.”

Nor did he offer a correction, Tiberius noted. Already, this conversation was proving quite enlightening. It was clear that these high priests held no love for him, though they made the barest attempt to hide it. Yet their reactions weren’t particularly surprising, given what he’d been told. What did surprise him were their companions.

His gaze swept across the group. The high priests had all schooled their expressions to careful neutrality. Yet their subordinates were a different matter. Those men and women who accompanied them looked grim in a way he didn't like. The set of their jaws spoke of a zealot’s resolve. But there were a few that looked… queasy. Shaken somehow.

He raised his voice and addressed the group as a whole. “Do I require a reason to descend among my subjects?”

The word “subjects” elicited the faintest twitch from the high priest of Arashim. But Kona’s priest continued to smile. “Require one? Of course not. But I find it difficult to believe that one such as yourself has time to indulge in idle whims.”

The emperor clasped his hands behind his back. Around their little meeting had gathered a number of commoners and other passing worshippers, some slowing their steps to observe while others ogled openly. These priests had yet to openly voice any discontent. But with a little bit of prodding…

Tiberius spread his [Regal Bearing] out to encompass the gathered audience before speaking. “Your churches have been permitted to worship openly and spread your faith among Rome and its people. However, there are those among you who have done her harm.” He turned on the high priest of Arashim. “I come to see how you will atone for this slight.”

“We have nothing to atone for. Your ‘permission’ means nothing to us.” Venom seeped into the high priest of Arashim’s tone.

The priest of Kona shot his compatriot a sharp look. The man fell silent, though his eyes still held an edge. The priest of Kona spoke again. “Forgive his outburst. What my compatriot means to say is that the men responsible for this slight you mention have already seen their punishments. Were they not arrested by your soldiers?”

Tiberus nodded. “This is true. However, I am surprised that such an overt attack has not been accompanied by any form of condemnation by the church. Such deviant behavior could otherwise be seen as acceptable among your worshippers… or even implicitly supported by your gods.”

A vein bulged in the priest of Arashim’s forehead. Yet he remained silent. Instead, the scale-bearing figure spoke, his voice deep and booming. “Do you presume to know the will of the gods, emperor?”

His gaze flicked to the stern man. He ignored the question. “I am the emperor. Any god who wills their worshippers to actively undermine Rome will have no place within her capital. I have permitted you to continue preaching about your gods freely. Yet such permission is not without limits.”

It was a perfectly reasonable stance. Tiberius made certain of it. He wasn't even threatening to exterminate the worshippers or stamp them out across the empire. Only to remove their influence within the largest city in the empire—and deprive them of an important stronghold. Yet the decision of how to move forward was ultimately up to the priests. And that gave him confidence in the court of public opinion.

The high priest of Arashim’s face flickered with distaste at the same time that the scale-bearing man frowned. Glances were exchanged between the church leaders as they held a silent conversation. Tiberius could glean little more than the growing dissatisfaction of Arashim’s priest, as he was the easiest man to read. He opened his mouth in what was certain to be a fervent protest.

“We will not—”

“Kristoph.”

A quiet voice rasped the word like a whisper between willows. Yet the man's jaw immediately clicked closed. All turned toward the figure who had spoken. The final authority figure among the group, who had remained silent until this point.

“You allow pride to cloud your judgment.” The gaunt woman rasped again. Her dark cloak seemed to float slightly in the breeze.

“But—”

“Do not protest. Sacrifices must be made. You and your patron know this.”

Tiberius watched on with interest. He’d assumed the priest who had taken the lead in negotiations was the de facto leader of this troupe, but now? It seemed as though this woman was the most respected by far. He made a note to look into what god she represented. Perhaps he would need to be more wary of them. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

The priest of Arashim set his jaw. After a moment, he inclined his head. “The followers of Arashim condemn the actions of those who attacked your soldiers. You have my apologies.”

Each word was ground out like it physically pained the man to say. Which it may well have. Still, Tiberius debated about whether to press the matter and insist on further reparations. Words were cheap, after all.

Yet his thoughts were stopped short. The humming of his crown intensified as it began to crackle once more. The air around him filled with a palpable energy, one not unlike what he had felt in the temple.

Immediately, the other priests tensed. The air thickened further as four more auras fell upon the area like physical weights. Tiberius felt his knees threatening to buckle under the sheer pressure. He flared his [Regal Bearing] in an attemptto fend them off, but it was as effective as blowing to stop a tornado.

The laurel crown flashed. Suddenly, Tiberius felt the pressure on him lessen as the others were pushed back. The eyes of the priests before him went wide with surprise.

Then, the world went white.