Dragon's Tale - Interlude 2 (Patreon)

City Center, Rome, Italy

A man in his seventies, wearing the ceremonial toga that distinguished him from the masses that filled the streets, as a member of the Roman Senate, walked through the crowded streets of Pomerium, the holy center of the Roman Republic, the strongest bastion of Imperium. 

As an honored ex-Preator — one that didn’t carry the title ex-Consul only because he didn’t want to deal with the attention it would have brought to his plans, the kind that had little to benefit from political power — he walked the streets of Roman Pomerium almost every day, earning people’s gaze, one that was a mixture of envy and hatred as he walked with a deliberate slowness that would have been worthy of his position. 

Yet, today was the exception. No one bothered to look at him, busy running around to avoid the chaos, nor he was in a mood to pay attention to it as he dashed forward with a speed that showed that despite his advanced age, he was not one of them that let himself go.

He didn’t have guards around him. 

As a sorcerer at the peak, any guard around him was a decoration in any case, and they were tasked to handle more urgent tasks. 

He hated the necessity that forced him to shed his genial old man attitude, one that he had only been able to maintain due to the great umbrella of his family, allowing him to act subtly. 

Yet, today, he was forced to shed the harmless attitude that he had managed to develop for so long. 

He had to, because his plans had just received a catastrophic hit. 

The sorceress healer, with an expertise that was impossible to find anywhere but the lands of Cathay, one that required him to spend enough treasure to bankrupt several kingdoms; had been kidnapped.

The patrician class weapons that House Junia collected ever since the inception of Rome, stolen, acquired in civil wars, or taken from the great enemies of Rome; stolen and sold. 

The grand collection of dragon hearts that he spent his whole life collecting to open the gates of the realm of Archmagus, to break through in a way that no one had done before to avoid the great restriction; spread around Pomerium like pebbles. 

The guards he had raised to have a loyal force that wouldn’t blink before sacrificing themselves; slaughtered to the last man. 

He slowed as he noticed one of the guard captains dashing toward him. “Speak,” he ordered. 

“We have identified the location of most of the weapons. Two of them were hidden in carts that were leaving Rome when their protective spells failed, and we already acquired them. But the rest of the weapons are spread around the lower city, every single one of them behind some wards, and the guards lack the strength to breach through the defenses.” 

“And they are not following our orders to give them back,” he growled in anger as he looked at the guard. 

The guard answered reluctantly. “No, sir.” 

He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anger that was growing inside him. “It seems that we have acted subtly too long, and they forgot who’s the true leader of the city, saving from tyranny again and again,” he muttered, unable to prevent the latter half from turning into a growl as he felt his power stirring, responding to his anger. 

He took a deep breath, suppressing that sudden flash. He didn’t dare to let his power go amok, not with his breakthrough so close. The breakthrough of the Archmagus might be an incredible opportunity for others, but he had other considerations. 

Considerations that were ruined by the others. “And what about the ones responsible for the raid? Any evidence about the perpetrator.” 

“No, sir,” the guard answered with a trembling voice. “We were able to trace their presence to Dacian School, but we found the representatives of several families murdered and hacked into pieces.” 

The ex-Preator listened as the guard gave him the list of identified families. “Any idea who is the responsible party, and who is the supporters?” he asked. 

“No, sir. People had a man riding away from the place, using a spear, strong enough to destroy the spells of the others that tried to keep them using wards, but —“ he started, before getting interrupted. 

“A spear, any description,” he asked, tensing more and more as the description reached his ear as the guard gave a detailed description of the spear. “That old codger,” he growled in anger. “I should have expected that his useless bloodline somehow intervenes,” he growled. 

“Old codger, sir?” asked the guard. 

“Not important,” he waved his hand. “But I don’t understand who could use—“ he murmured, then froze as the realization hit. “Only a senile idiot like him would dare to actually use a bestowment ritual on a bastard.” 

“Should we send more after him.” 

“No,” he answered as he shook his head. “Only an idiot would try to escape our attention by riding a Nemean lion and openly using a spear, thinking that speed would help him. And such a madman could never breach our defenses without we could realize it. Someone who’s aware of my feud is using that as a distraction while they safely sold the rest of the items.” 

“Several weaker houses claiming that someone had just dropped the items with them,” the guard interrupted. 

“Nonsense, you told me that almost all of them were already in Rome,” he growled, dismissing the possibility. After all, who would go to the trouble of stealing from House Junia, only to throw away a treasury that would tempt even the biggest Empires to go to war? 

Rome had certainly done so in the past.

“But what if —“ the guard tried to answer, only to be interrupted. 

“Enough, send a message to the legions that are loyal to us, and ask them to mobilize. We might need their direct intervention.” 

“But if we do that, we can trigger a civil war—“ the guard answered, and got interrupted again, this time by a flare of magic. 

“You have your orders, go,” he ordered as he continued walking toward the center of Pomerium, where he could feel the power of several dragon hearts collected to one central location, mixed with the aura of a few Patrician weapons. 

He soon arrived in front of the building that the power was radiating off from, one that belonged to House Furia, one of the patrician houses that still had the delusions of competing with House Junia — even after the number of times he had taught them the futility of that action. 

No wonder they were daring enough to raid his Estate.

The house was surrounded by guards and gladiators carrying the mark of House Junia. Guards that dared to loiter around despite his orders rushed whenever they discovered a sign of his treasured items. 

He once again cursed the loss of his loyal guards. The loss of treasures that took centuries for House Junia to collect was bad enough, but the loss of the force he raised to intervene in such circumstances only made the situation worse. 

Their undying loyalty was to be used as a hammer to break the resistance of the others before he intervened, intimidating the arrogance of the ones that treated House Junia, forgetting that they were responsible for killing the last king of Rome, and they were responsible for many arrogant politicians with delusions of bringing back the monarchy. 

Like as that upstart Julius Caesar or his incompetent nephew. 

As he looked at the residence of House Furia, he couldn’t but feel shocked, still unable to understand how his plans had been compromised to such a degree. Such a radical reaction was clearly the indicator that someone had realized his monumental plan of breaking to become an Archmagus in a way that had been never tried before.

Becoming the first Archmagus that was able to act freely, without Gaia’s intervention, marked the beginning of the true dominance of the Junia family. 

Giving Rome the undying king it deserved, and finally crushing the Eastern Empire.

Yet, just as he was months away from that grand success, someone ruined his plans, spreading around his tools. 

He didn’t care much about the Patrician weapons, as despite the legends about their roots, he failed to leverage them to his purpose — their unique nature rejecting his control, his age making bestowment rituals impossible to work. 

And, it was impossible to achieve what he wanted without multiple weapons working in conjunction, an achievement that looked impossible. 

But, that meant that gathering the dragon hearts was even more important, especially the biggest piece that carried the power of lightning, outside of Gaia’s control... 

“What are you waiting for?” he ordered at the guard that stood helplessly. “Attack—” he ordered, only to be interrupted by an unwelcome voice.  

“Oh, what a nice surprise. My colleague, ex-Preator Brutus is here,” said an unwelcome voice, and when he raised his gaze, only to see the Patrician of House Furia, a man in his forties, looking from the window, a mocking smile on his face. 

A man that thought himself to superior to everyone just because he was the Consul this year. “Why didn’t you send a message, informing me that you wanted to pay a visit? I would have prepared a greeting for you.” 

“Do you dare to play around after being daring enough to enter House Junia and steal my treasures,” he growled, his face contorted with anger. 

Yet, his opponent only chuckled, which didn’t help his anger. He let his power grow, getting more and more intense, enough to break through the suppression of Pomerium’s wards. 

Yet, even as he broke those wards, he could feel a certain energy stirring underneath, one that tempted him to reach and grab it, promising endless capabilities. 

The power of an Archmagus. 

Too bad those came with chains impossible to break. Chains that he spent half of his life trying to avoid. 

Yet, a sorcerer reaching the great limit was dangerous enough without taking that eternal step. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t get the reaction he had been searching for. “You have hidden well,” commented his arrogant opponent, one that made him tense even before his opponent was joined by a second aura. 

He smirked, confident enough to take down two sorcerers. Pity that was short-lived, as his opponent was joined by a third one. Then, auras reached five, then seven… 

Only to stop when nine auras stood against his, each one of them a sorcerer. “Luckily, I have friends here,” he commented lazily. 

Brutus saw eight other men walking into his field of view, each from one of the houses that were struggling to regain their past position. 

It seemed that they had finally decided to stop dawdling and hit back. 

And did so perfectly. 

Brutus was confident in his power. He was arguably the strongest living Sorcerer in Rome, maybe even in the world, but even for him, one against nine would be impossible odds. 

He had the choice to retreat, but doing so would mean giving up the lightning dragon heart that he worked so hard to acquire. 

He could gather enough forces to squash nine sorcerers, but not before they could successfully smuggle the dragon heart he desperately needed. And, when facing one against nine, even he was helpless. 

Unless he took a crazy risk… 

He reached his power, touching the barrier that kept him from the infinite power bubbling all along Earth, willing to take the risk of using the incomplete experiment records. All he needed was to acquire the dragon heart they were hoping to hide behind nine of them. 

Spending his life on the edge of ascension, taking that last step was simple, elevating him to the rank of Archmagus. 

Yet, even as his power exploded, allowing him to kill five of his nine opponents sorcerer’s in one spell before they could even react, he felt the bindings of Gaia wrap around him, suppressing his power…

And, underneath Rome, he could feel other, comparable powers, reacting to his presence…