Hero of Rome

2 Months Later

Colonizing America proved not to be popular with the natives.

What a surprise. At least, that’s what my Historical Insight showed, which foretold of a coming battle today with the Onondaga. It was going to be very, very deadly.

And I had no idea why.

For some reason, my ability to see the futures of any decision I could make did not tell me when exactly the battle was supposed to happen. I could only see the carnage that was about to occur.

That was highly irregular.

“Maybe it’s the stress,” I told myself, overlooking the autumn forests of what would one day be New York with the Hudson River rushing nearby. Instead of New York, in this alternate reality in Antiquitus, I, Co Emperor of Rome, decided to call it New Rome.

Points for ingenuity.

However, being here for the last month, looking over my future homeland atop the trees in October felt surreal. It wasn’t that long ago that I was just another nobody going nowhere in life in modernity. Now, I was a Roman emperor, forging into the new world.

The dark clouds over New Rome began to rumble, stealing my thoughts. There would be a storm soon, that I was sure of. It would give me the advantage with my blessings from Jupiter.

“Imperator!” Lucius called from below. I already knew what he was going to say. It was impossible not to see the blood soaked images as he said it. “They’re coming!”

The war drums of the Onondaga, being led by their chief, Tadodaho, sounded in the distance. They were our allies as of yesterday. Now, for no reason at all, at least no reason discernible to my Historical Insight, they were turning on me.

I took a deep, anxious filled breath. Why did it have to come to this?

Following Rome’s coronation of me and Julius Caesar as co emperors, I took an entire month off from conquest and strife, leaving Caesar to manage affairs (of which he didn’t mind). I chose instead to spend the last days of summer with my beautiful, Roman Egyptian wife, Cleopatra, who was several months pregnant at this point. I took her in the majesty of my power all around the Roman Empire which was now ours. From the Library of Alexandria to the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, we visited all of the ancient wonders of the world perfectly recreated in this Systemized reality of Rome.

Cleopatra, who carried our twin sons, Romulus and Remus, enjoyed every minute of it. And if I was successful here in America, she would enjoy many more.

No, I would be successful. There was no way I was letting the only love I had ever received die. She would live.

Ever since I saw the future reality of my life without her, I had been working non-stop in figuring out how I could help her survive childbirth. This involved focusing solely on improving my Historical Insight through reading my Infinite Tome, the magical reward the System gave me for becoming emperor. I could read through its infinite pages a book every couple of seconds. Five hours a day reading for two months increased my Historical Insight to well over a week.

Historical Insight (+lvl 638,146): See over 7 days, 9 hours and 26 minutes into the future of any decision.

It wasn’t until I received a vision of Pocahontas that I realized the key to Cleopatra’s and Rome’s survival rested in the Americas. Rome was completely broke from the wicked tetrarchy of Elagabalus and Nero who ran it into the ground. Our enemies like Alexander the Great and the Cartheginians were licking their lips at our weakened state.

If we could make peace with the natives and colonize America, we could both acquire the resources necessary for a booming economy and earn the trust of Pocahontas, who would keep Cleopatra alive with her divine blessings. From what I could tell, she was Favonius, favored by the gods, as I was, and possessed a special gift that made her far more powerful than the other healers and magicians.

Pocahontas would be even more pleased that we spared her and the natives from smallpox, which wiped out most of them when the conquistadors arrived after Christopher Columbus. Thanks to my knowledge of history and the thousands of books I had read with my enhanced reading speed, I had Valerius, our state-sponsored Alchemist, concoct a potion for myself and the other Romans to not have another Great Dying of the natives on our hands. While he worked meticulously on it, I read countless books, performed my duties as imperator, and planned the colonization of America, which consumed all of my time.

Item: Salve of the Unyielding Aegis (Rare)

Effect: When injected, this meticulously crafted vaccine provides immunity to smallpox, granting a 100% resistance to the disease for 10 years. Additionally, it prevents the bearer from transmitting the virus, reducing the risk of contagion among allies and natives. The formula is delicate, and any disruption during preparation can cause severe adverse side effects to the user and those around them.

Weight: 0.1 kg per dose

Worth: 5,000 Denarii

Only Caesar complained about allowing the natives to win before our colonization began.

“If they are blessed by their own gods, they will be formidable foes,” he had countered late one night in our imperial study. “Why not, as these Spanish you have spoken about, simply allow the strong to take over the weak?”

“I can’t,” I said. “Morally, it’s wrong. And I need Pocahontas to trust us if she’s going to work for us.”

“She can be forced to work and achieve the same results. That is what slaves are for, afterall. And the only morality that guides us is the glory we achieve for Rome. They are not Romans, so, they do not concern us.”

I closed my eyes in frustration. “Please, trust me on this. I want to make allies, not enemies.”

“Power respects power, Maximus. There are no friends in this game. Trust me on that.”

Caesar, sharing authority, had reluctantly allowed my more peaceful approach. But his cold and calculative nature that disregarded human life as mere pawns still concerned me. I would have to get used to that now that I was dealing with people like him.

Like the war chief, Tadodaho, who was on his way to fight me with the venomous snakes in his hair, breaking our peace agreement for no reason.

“Talk to me Lucius!” I said to my Centurion below, dropping from a dizzying height. My blessings of Jupiter negated fall damage, though I still landed with a powerful thud. My black Centurion armor clinked together once my winged boots smashed into the ground.

My right hand man on the expedition, Lucius, stood tall as we walked back to our fortress. His hair was peppered gray beneath this crested helmet marking him as Centurion, eyes worn from years of conquest. His crimson cape billowed behind him as he spoke with a deep and gravelly voice.

“Only seven thousand natives, my lord,” he said. “If we engage our Jupiter-blessed, we can mitigate any loss. We will have to act quickly.”

I cursed under my breath as we speed-walked to the camp. If only I had seen it was going to rain today. In my future visions for the entire week, I had only seen sunshine on the cool autumn days, not rain. Because of this, I had kept a few hundred men blessed by Jupiter. For the rest of our ten thousand soldiers I had divided up between Vulcan for crafting the needs of our fortress, Diana for the guards, Minerva for the scouts, and Mars for the coming fight for a majority of my soldiers. If I would have seen the storm, I would have made almost everyone Jupiter-blessed so we could smoke them out with a barrage of lightning bolts.

What was going on with my vision?

We reached the raised area of the square fort, known as Fortis Hudsonius, within minutes. The sprawling fortress was close enough to the Hudson River to provide a natural defense barrier, while the other sides were defended by a deep ditch, a wooden palisade bearing sharp stakes, and natural earthen ramparts. The natives had been thoroughly impressed by how quickly, and how grand, our fortress was created.

The guards atop the regular wooden watchtowers hailed me as we approached. As did Tiberius Aelius Severus, my Optio, second in command to Lucius, who stood outside the.

“Imperator!” the younger man said, wearing a standard issue lorica segmentata, along with a red tunic underneath. As I had warned him of a coming battle, he had our Mars-blessed in formation within the defenses of the fort, while the Pluto-blessed waited high up in the trees to drop down on the natives when they arrived.

“The men are ready,” Tiberius continued as we followed him into the fortress. The gate behind us closed quickly as we walked up onto the earthen ramparts which would give us a protected view of the coming tribe. “The gods have given you wisdom, my lord. No one suspected their betrayal but you.”

“The gods have favored us today,” I muttered. I had chosen to keep the knowledge of my gift as secret as possible. The less people knew about it, the better. I had learned it the hard way when the Cult of Eternal Night used it to their advantage when my prophetic gift was recharging after the siege of Rome. I would have to grow in power if I were to never have a blindspot again.

A majority of my infantry formed a shield wall within the fort and in front of the gate they natives would try to storm. They knew of the spectral foes that would be unleashed on them, spirits that could surpass walls while their masters tried to break through. The rest of my men I had lined on the walls, ready and able to deliver death through javelins, arrows, and boulders that were stationed all around. Our Jupiter-blessed were lurking atop the roofs of our lookout towers, ready to leap to the sky and throw down lightning bolts.

We waited with stoic silence for Tadodaho and his men to arrive, only their war drums in the distance could be heard. And then, suddenly, as if the war song lost its breath, there was a deep and eerie silence. Not a sound could be heard from the autumn forest. I knew this was coming, having prophetically lived through this too many times to count. However, even though it was familiar, it still disturbed me. It was without a doubt a fear tactic, in order to freak us out. My men would not be shaken, for I had our priests circulating the fortress, calling upon Mars for blessings and reminding them to embrace strength and honor.

And then, one by one, the natives emerged. If I hadn’t seen this before, I wouldn’t have seen them right away. It was as if they were the forest, only peeling away from the dense foliage and woods to engage in battle.

First, the male version of Medusa strode into view. Tadodaho, tall and lean, glared at me as the black snakes that were his hair hissed and writhed in slow, methodical movements. The war chief was deeply tanned, his face a mix of red and black paint. There were other tattoos across his visible skin, some of beasts and monsters. Proudly, he wore the skin of bears and wolves, while his leggings were crafted from deerskin.

The rest of his seven thousand warriors were dressed in a similar manner. They carried tomahawks, war clubs, bows and arrows, and more insidiously, obsidian blades. They were especially unique to the natives. It could and would slice through our armor like butter. Emerging between the horde were blue spectral animals: wolves, deer, eagles, bears, and so much more.

The battle was going to be needlessly very bloody.