Imperator: Resurrection of an Empire-Chapter 428 - 423 -

The night passed by in peace and quiet.

Julius used to camping in his previous life, and living roughly whilst on campaign in Francia, and Greecia had a calm night.

And thanks to that morning came just as gently.

His wakeup alarm wasnt the blast of horns outside his window, or the knocking of Palatial staff at his door.

It was instead just the simple chittering of birds playing in the trees.

Julius surfaced from sleep with the ease of long habit, eyes opening before his mind fully caught up.

The pale gray of early dawn filtered through the canvas of the tent, the chill of the night still clinging to the air.

For a heartbeat, his instincts went to call upon the system to get an overview of his empire, to begin coordinating efforts and making tactical decisions—

Then he smelled damp earth and woodsmoke.

And smiled.

His body felt... good.

A little stiff, yes, but that was the familiar stiffness of campaign mornings—of sleeping on the ground, of riding hard, of being present in his own skin.

Compared to the exhaustion that came from weeks of sitting in council chambers and staring at parchment, this was refreshingly honest.

He pushed himself upright quietly.

Serena beside him did not stir.

She lay bundled in her cloak and bedroll, hair spilled loose across the blanket, brow faintly furrowed even in sleep.

One arm was flung dramatically over her midsection, the other curled near her face as if bracing against some unseen offence.

Julius suppressed a chuckle.

Used to mattresses indeed.

The pampered princess was living like the rest of the world probably for the very first time.

He slipped from the tent, careful not to disturb her, and breathed in deeply.

Cold air.

Morning dew.

The faint scent of yesterday’s fire, some coals still barely smouldering in the pit.

It really did feel like Francia.

Back when mornings meant survival rather than ceremony.

He stretched, rolled his shoulders, and immediately set about rekindling the fire.

A few embers still glowed beneath the ash; it took little effort to coax them back to life.

Soon, flames licked upward, steady and controlled.

The soft sound finally stirred Serena from her slumber as the unusual sound for one to hear whilst sleeping drove her dreams away.

A few minutes later, the tent rustled violently.

Then—

"Ow."

Julius didn’t turn around, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Serena emerged slowly, painfully, standing far too straight as she stepped into the morning light.

Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes half-lidded and faintly accusatory, and her movements had all the grace of someone who had offended the ground and been punished for it.

She stretched experimentally.

Regretted it immediately.

"...How," she said hoarsely, "do you do this without dying?"

"Practice," Julius replied lightly, setting a pot over the fire. "And lowered expectations."

She shot him a look, then winced as she bent to rub her lower back.

"I slept for maybe an hour," she muttered. "Everywhere i moved there was a root sticking into my back."

"You get used to it with time, until you don’t even notice the abnormalities of the ground anymore."

She glared, then sighed and straightened, squaring her shoulders with visible determination.

"Fine. What do I do?"

He glanced over, surprised.

"Help," she clarified quickly. "I said I would. I’m not crawling back into that tent and surrendering to being nothing more than a new burden for you."

Julius considered her for a moment, then nodded toward the tree line.

"Firewood," he said. "Dry branches only. Nothing green, and nothing to big either."

She followed his gaze. "How do I tell, i mean if its dry or not?"

"Snap test," he replied. "If in doubt, breach the twig, or branch in half if you can, if it bends without breaking its wet, if its a clean break then its good wood."

She repeated it under her breath like a mantra. "Break clean. Bend bad."

Then she marched off with grim resolve.

Julius watched her go, amusement warming his chest, before turning back to breakfast.

Simple fare.

Flour from a small pouch, water brought to a boil, a pinch of salt.

He mixed it into a thin batter, poured it carefully onto a flat pan set over the fire.

The smell of cooking grain filled the clearing, comforting and plain.

When Serena returned, her arms were full—too full—of branches of varying sizes.

She dropped them in a heap at his feet with a triumphant exhale.

"I brought wood."

He inspected the pile.

Half of it was green.

A quarter of it was damp.

"Thank you, for the effort" He complimented diplomatically.

Her face was aglow for but an instant until the full meaning of his words were understood.

She huffed but knelt down, sorting through the pile with renewed focus, snapping pieces experimentally.

Her face souring to find that while the ends she had previously broken were indeed dry the thicker parts would only bend, proving they were still wet inside.

But even still though almost all her effort was wasted she couldnt help but break out in a smile, this was only her first attempt at such a chore and it wasnt comepletly a failure.

Breakfast was ready shortly after.

Two thin pancakes, slightly uneven but golden, paired with boiled water—no tea today, no luxuries.

Julius handed one to Serena on a simple plate which was actually just a large leaf.

She accepted it with reverence.

Then took a bite.

Her eyes widened.

"...This is amazing."

"Just simple flour, water and a little sugar."

"It’s warm," she countered. "and after the night i had, i’ve earned it."

He laughed softly and ate his own.

They sat near the fire, watching the light shift as the sun climbed higher.

Dew evaporated from leaves.

Somewhere nearby, something small scurried through underbrush.

After eating, Julius stood and began dismantling the camp.

Tent stakes came up first, wiped clean and bundled.

Canvas folded tight.

Bedrolls shaken out and rolled.

The fire was reduced carefully, embers scattered and smothered until nothing remained but blackened earth.

Serena hovered again, determined.

She tried rolling her bedroll.

It turned into a lumpy, uneven disaster.

Julius watched silently for a moment, then stepped in, gently correcting her grip.

"Start tighter," he said. "Let the roll do the work."

She followed his instructions carefully this time.

The result was still crooked—but functional.

She smiled proudly.

"I did it."

"You did," he agreed.

They worked together until the clearing looked untouched, save for faint impressions in the grass that would vanish by midday, as the flattened grass stood tall under the noonday sun.

The latrine was completly covered once more.

No trace left behind.

Finally, they packed the horses.

Serena moved slower now, sore but stubborn, refusing to complain.

Julius noticed—and adjusted his pace to match hers without comment, this was a vacation afterall, no need to force the maximum efficiency, and full day rides without rest.

When everything was ready, they stood for a moment, surveying the place they had spent the night.

"It’s strange," Serena said quietly. "We were here. And now... it’s like we weren’t."

Julius nodded. "That’s the point, no traces left behind means we caused no harm, and left very little for anyone who might be following to track us by."

They mounted up.

Serena shifted in the saddle, grimacing faintly, then straightened and set her jaw.

The first day had passed but the journey itself had just begun.