Septimus coldly observed Sextus, waiting for an answer that would satisfy him.
"My wife belongs to the Scipio family, and I can contact Senator Publius Cornelius Scipio Nasica. As long as you offer tangible benefits, or marry a lady from the direct line of the Scipio Nasica family, your problem with Rome can be resolved," Sextus said quickly, blurting out every idea that came to mind in a desperate attempt to survive.
"Marry? Hahaha," Septimus said with amusement.
With his almost magical ability to replicate himself indefinitely, why would he marry a spoiled, and possibly promiscuous, noblewoman when he could have countless women?
Not to mention the reputation for debauchery that characterized Roman high society at that time.
Furthermore, by marrying a Roman noblewoman, Septimus would become entangled with a crowd of hypocritical nobles who would seek to take advantage of that relationship.
Lastly, for Septimus, having a libertine noblewoman as a wife would expose him to excessive and unnecessary attention, making it harder to keep his secrets.
On the other hand, with a slave woman, he did not need to give explanations, unlike with a spoiled noble wife.
Septimus could find no benefit in marrying a lady of the Scipio family, so he shook his head at Sextus's suggestion.
"What kind of benefit do you suggest would interest Senator Scipio Nasica enough to resolve my misunderstanding with Rome?" Septimus asked Sextus seriously.
"As long as you can offer the formula for white sugar to Senator Scipio Nasica, he would gladly use his family's influence to help you," Sextus said tentatively, trying to read any change in Septimus's expression.
"I can grant the monopoly for selling white sugar in the kingdoms that trade with Rome," Septimus said calmly.
Septimus was aware that trading with other kingdoms would expose him to many variables beyond his control. Aside from pirates and bandits, he would also have to deal with the greed of foolish kings.
The best solution was to offer white sugar at a price of thirty denarii to the Scipio family and have them use their family influence to open new markets in other kingdoms.
Upon hearing Septimus's response, Sextus frowned slightly. It would have been easier and more convenient to simply offer the formula for white sugar.
If Sextus managed to negotiate and obtain the white sugar formula without bloodshed, he could retain his position as Admiral of Campania and avoid punishment and humiliation for his defeat.
"Write a letter to your wife and have her forward it to Senator Scipio Nasica with my offer," Septimus said, leaving no room for questions.
He was not interested in the opinion of a prisoner. As long as the negotiation worked in his favor, everything else was irrelevant.
"If war with Rome can be avoided, it will benefit everyone. Otherwise, there will be bloodshed, and Rome will regret it," Septimus said with a resolute expression.
A conflict with Rome would bring many casualties among the clone guards, but with Septimus's near-divine ability, the final outcome would still be his victory.
Rome could recruit up to twenty legions in extreme circumstances, but Septimus needed only a year, or less, to amass the same number of legions, each with superior combat prowess.
Two days passed.
The replication ability activated, and Septimus added another legion to his army.
With military equipment purchased and looted from previous battles, the new legion was fully equipped.
Septimus's clones had been working tirelessly in four shifts to maintain the intensity and speed required to refit the armor and weapons into a uniform style.
Septimus wanted to preserve a consistent aesthetic: armor in a distinctive black color, with small red details, and the emblem of three severed heads displayed on armor and shields.
That day, Septimus ordered his twenty slave women to follow him to an improvised elevated wooden platform, ten meters high, to witness a scene that left them deeply shaken.
Septimus could only show off to these twenty slaves, who were responsible for warming his bed during the week.
Showing off to his clones would mean showing off to himself, and he did not consider himself that egocentric.
From the elevated platform, the two legions, standing in perfect formation like lifeless statues, projected a suffocating pressure that only an elite army could generate.
Roman legions typically consisted of between five thousand and six thousand legionaries, with auxiliary cavalry numbering between three hundred and one thousand.
Septimus had no cavalry. He had not had enough time to form a clone cavalry unit, which was why his forces consisted only of infantry.
In a barren, unclaimed valley less than three hundred meters from Septimus's villa, two legions, a total of twelve thousand soldiers in black armor, stood silent, like an unsheathed sword, maintaining an almost unnatural discipline.
The shocking sight of that army caused astonishment and mild panic among the twenty slaves.
The slaves had no idea where this mysterious army had come from. Their entire world was confined to the surroundings of the villa residence. Septimus had forbidden them from going beyond the villa grounds.
As a result, they were unaware of the intense smithing activities that had taken place within the villa to equip this legion.
Their shock at the sheer number of legionaries was genuine. They were slaves treated like canaries in a cage.
Septimus watched their reactions with mild amusement, satisfied at having indulged his whim to show off.
After five minutes, the slaves slowly calmed down.
At that moment, Septimus slowly raised his arms.
With perfect precision, the clone legionaries drew their weapons and, in the same motion, began striking the hilts of their gladii against their shields, producing a dull metallic thunder.
The slaves, barely recovered from their initial shock, were instantly stunned by the sight. The uniform precision demonstrated by this army completely overwhelmed them.
As bed slaves whose virginity had been intact when purchased, their price in the Naples slave market had not been cheap, and they had lived isolated lives from a very young age.
The young slaves knew nothing about military matters of the era, but just by observing the precision of the army's movements, they understood that these black-armored soldiers were a true elite force.
Septimus also observed his clone legionaries, and deep down, he felt like a fascist dictator.
At first, when Septimus transmigrated to this ancient era, he had only wanted to survive.
After discovering his ability and enduring bloody battles in the underground arena, his desires grew, along with his ferocity.
As he gazed upon the sea of heads and soldiers, Septimus's perspective on life changed.
The power to decide one's own fate, and the fate of life and death for others, is intoxicating to anyone.
After savoring that feeling for two minutes, Septimus lowered his hands, and the noise stopped immediately.
In the brief moments he had spent observing this army, his outlook on life had subtly shifted.
"Power corrupts, or changes you," is a saying known for the simplicity of its wisdom.
The slaves watched the scene in tacit silence, breathing softly to avoid making any noise.
From the elevated wooden platform, gazing seriously at his two clone legions, Septimus felt inspired and delivered a brief, impromptu speech.
"Legionaries, you faced the army of the Admiral of Campania and prevailed."
"You represent my fury against anyone who dares to challenge me."
"Show no mercy to the enemy, and mount their heads on spears. That shall be your new creed."
"No mercy!"
"Death to the enemy!"
Septimus ended his short speech amid the dull clash of sword hilts striking shields.
The speech had not been planned. The words he spoke were born of a simple whim to express himself.
Fortunately for Septimus, he had twenty beautiful spectators who listened with excitement. Otherwise, it would have been embarrassing if it had been only him and his clones.
It would have been the same as talking naked to a mirror.