Blood gushed from where it pierced, stealing Caesar’s breath as he recoiled in shock. Only moments earlier was he thrown off guard by the seizing of his purple cloak.
“Vile Casca, what does this mean?” Caesar said, grabbing hold of the bloody knife to keep the traitorous senator at bay. Casca, in his senator’s toga, offered little resistance to Caesar’s firm grip. The fool seemed afraid, uncertain of the treason he just committed. He was no match for Caesar who had endured many battles, conquering all in his path.
Alone, it wouldn’t be a contest. But unfortunately for Caesar, he was surrounded by conspirators.
The other senators were already gathered around Caesar. Initially, they were hounding him with their demands within the Curia of Pompey. Many watched with mouths agape, like children, doing nothing in response. It only further painted their treason.
“Brothers, help me!” Caesar commanded, wrestling Casca to prevent another blow. But he was surrounded. They had pretended to petition him when he arrived late to the meeting, surrounding his seat. His destruction was their true goal.
The cowards.
Caesar looked to Brutus first as he struggled with Casca, who stood amidst the crowd of senators. Brutus’s jaw was hardened, his eyes not daring to look into Caesar’s.
It was in that singular reaction that Caesar knew the end had come.
Caesar desperately moved to escape but was caught with another dagger to the chest. The blow was too much for him, puncturing his lungs and decimating any hopes he had of escaping. Or living. Breathing became impossible. Casca emboldened, rammed his knife again into Caesar, this time beneath his armpit. Caesar cried out in pain as the rest of the senators converged on him. Blade after blade punctured him as his screams lost the wind in its sails. They even cut one another in feverous attempts to join in the fray.
Such a pitiful way to die was made even more sombersome when it was Brutus’s turn to wet his blade.
Brutus, whose mother Servilia had once been Caesar’s mistress, stepped forward. He stabbed Caesar in the groin. Perhaps he saw it fitting given Caesar’s conquests.
Whatever the case, Caesar’s mind was absent from the sheer, overwhelming pain. It consumed his mind like fire.
It was too much to speak, to accuse, to question why.
He was hardly aware that his body was now slumped over the statue of Pompey the Great. Caesar could still see in his dreams the man’s severed head thanks to Ptolemy XIII. The face of his friend stared down at him in judgment as Cesar drifted from this world.
Darkness finally overcame Caesar. It snuffed the light of his mind out as quickly as one pinches a candle wick.
Caesar was nothing more. His mind was gone, his memories, his ambitions. All was lost. He could not even dwell upon his hatred for the senators who conspired against him.
Time stretched on like this for an indefinite amount.
Then, out of the darkness, strange, red-lettering appeared bright before him. Like looking into a bright torch after becoming accustomed to the night, it seared into Caesar’s mind.
- Loading world…
- Analyzing subject…
- Determining place of origin…
- System Message: “Welcome Gaius Julius Caesar! Recently departed from the Ides of March, you’ve been chosen for an encore in Antiquitus. In my great benevolence, you will compete in a battle royale with all of Rome’s emperors for supreme control. You will all spawn in the Colosseum but feel free to run for your life and explore the world arena. There’s no Senate to sway or armies to command. It’s just you, your wits, and a host of other iconic figures eager to claim the throne.
- “Remember, in this game, it’s every legend for themselves. The rules are simple: survive, conquer, and rule. Or perish trying and become enthralled in the third life to the victor. Good luck, Caesar! Let’s see if your legendary cunning can secure victory or if history will repeat itself.”
Caesar was too confused and overwhelmed to make sense of what he saw.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
What is this? he thought, only to be surprised to hear his mind again. I… I live! Fors Fortuna has surely found favor with me.
White, blinding light invaded his eyes, pushing back the darkness that had become him. The first thing he could hear was shouting, mixed with the clinging of chains. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see over eighty men bound to poles in a circular fashion around the arena. All, including Caesar, wore sandals and a subligaculum around the groin. The rest of their flesh was exposed. Most of the men, some young boys, he did not recognize, save for the man next to him.
“Octavius?” Caesar said, staring in bewilderment at the older man chained to his right. Although he looked to be in his seventies, Caesar could still make out the young man he had adopted many years ago. His prominent nose, broad forehead, and bright eyes were unmistakable.
“Pater?” Octavius said, tears budding in his eyes. “I don’t understand. What is going on?”
Before Caesar could explain that he had no idea, the red-lettered text appeared again. This time, at the center of the Colosseum, it hovered above a glowing, golden gladius. The sword was sheathed blade-first into the sand. As it appeared, Caesar noticed there were several rocks scattered amidst the sands. They were large enough to break a skull.
- System Message: “Welcome, welcome everyone! What a dream to see all of Rome’s emperors alive and well with us today. I cannot wait to see you battle to the death here in the next few minutes. I will begin—”
A sudden gasping sounded on the other side of the arena. The largest man Caesar had ever seen slumped over. It caused the pole he was chained to to buckle beneath his enormous weight. He looked more slug-like than a man. The dying sounds ended shortly after and he became still.
- 84/85 Remaining: Vitellius has a heart attack at the very mention of doing a physical challenge.
Several men laughed wildly. One, looking no older than an eastern boy, spat on Vitellius’s corpse and said something inaudible.
Caesar’s mind was further split by the revelation of emperor, and there being eighty-five of them. What happened to the Republic?
A loud sigh permeated the air around them.
- System Message: “You couldn’t wait till we began, Vitellius? Such a waste. Hold on everyone, I need to replace this lump with someone else. I’ll be right back.”
Caesar frowned in confusion as he looked at Octavius, who only shrugged.
A second later, the corpse of this Vitellius disappeared. Chained in his place, wearing only a fitted silk bodice for her chest over her shendyt was Cleopatra. The Greek Egyptian was breathtaking to behold, even in her late thirties as she appeared now. A flood of memories swelled within him at the sight of her. Though she was never his wife, Cleopatra was the most formidable and intelligent of women Caesar had ever met. And he had met many, many women. Even now, her eyes betrayed no fear, only resolute determination to survive.
- 85/85 Remaining: Cleopatra has joined the tournament.
The boy who had laughed earlier now eyed Cleopatra with voracious hunger. It made Caesar’s stomach knot up in disgust. Caesar eyed the glowing gladius at the center, a fitting solution to the easterner.
- System Message: “Alright, is everyone finished dying? Wonderful. Let’s begin.
- “Congratulations on your selection for the ultimate showdown in Antiquitus. Only one will rise to rule the next life. It’s a battle royale against 84 other legendary emperors including Cleopatra.
- “Weapons and supplies are scattered throughout this ever-shrinking world arena. It’s filled with treacherous monsters. As the world contracts around you, volcanoes will erupt and catastrophes will ensue. Hiding will become impossible and combat inevitable. You will each be given 100 health and stamina, and you will not be able to access your skill trees until after the game. If you do win, however, you will gain a massive boost in skill points, glory, and experience.
- “Remember, the last one standing will claim Rome in the afterlife. The rest of you will become slaves for the victor to dispense with. So, sharpen your blades and prepare your wits—this is no mere gladiatorial game. It’s a fight to the death, and only the mightiest will emerge victorious.
- “Veni, vidi, vici. Come, see, conquer—or be crushed beneath the weight of your ambition. Any questions?”
One of the older emperors, with a tremendous beard and eyes full of wisdom, spoke up. “Actually, yes, what—”
- System Message: “Wonderful! Let the games begin!”
All at once, the chains holding everyone to their poles unshackled themselves. Caesar stumbled, looking at Octavia whose eyes were wild with fear. For one long and very peculiar moment, all of Rome’s rulers looked at each other with confusion. Then, all turned towards the golden gladius at the center of the arena that radiated with power.
As if by some unspoken accord, chaos erupted with a deafening roar.