"Haven't we been talking about driving Rome out of Gaul for the past decade and a half?" Dumnorix said. "The Romans are no easy prey."
"I never expected to hear that from you, of all people, Dumnorix. Have the Romans truly made you that terrified?"
"Courage alone will not bring down a bear."
Dumnorix took a seat at the table as he spoke.
Rome's military might was formidable.
Yet Rome's true strength did not stem merely from its legions.
Rome's real power lay in its unity and relentless endurance.
Many Gallic tribes had defeated Rome in individual battles, and some had even sacked and occupied Rome itself.
Yet almost none had ever won a war against them. Rome grew deadlier the longer a war dragged on.
The more defeats they suffered in battle, the more troops and supplies they squeezed from their Italian allies, never surrendering until their enemy was utterly crushed beneath their heel.
"Meanwhile, we Gauls remain hopelessly divided. Right now, Rome is holding some grand gathering called a Religious Council, is it not?"
"Indeed. Word is they've gathered priests from every corner of their world to debate matters of religion."
"I hear even a monarch from a far-off kingdom beyond the sea arrived in person."
"They are solidifying Rome's dominion. Once that council concludes, they will undoubtedly set their sights on our lands next." Orgetorix said. "We must finish our preparations before all of Gaul falls under Roman control."
"And how do you propose we do that?"
"Return to your tribe for now and bide your time. Avoid doing anything that might arouse your brother's suspicion."
"I always have."
Dumnorix ran his tongue over his dry lips.
His tribe, the Aedui, belonged to the pro-Roman camp in Gaul.
His brother, in particular, practically groveled at Rome's feet.
Dumnorix had been steadily gathering allies by stoking anti-Roman sentiment within the tribe.
"The Sequani have already made the necessary preparations as well."
Casticus nodded, lifting his mug of ale.
"When our Helvetian friends march west, we will grant you the land and food you require. We cannot turn a blind eye to our kin fleeing from the Germanic savages."
"And I shall provide the strength you both need—warriors. As you well know, the chieftains currently ruling the Gallic tribes lack the wisdom and, above all, the backbone to stand against Rome." Orgetorix said, looking between the two men.
"For Gaul to survive, our tribes must unite first. The three of us must lead the Helvetii, the Aedui, and the Sequani, respectively."
"It will not be an easy task. I have amassed a fortune by monopolizing the wine trade and river tolls, but..." Dumnorix said. "To wrest control of the tribe from my brother, I will need far more gold."
"We do not necessarily have to rely on gold for everything."
"Meaning...?"
"Follow me."
Orgetorix strode toward the heavy timber door.
"I have something fascinating to show you both."
***
"Let's fall back now. They'll start searching for the missing hunters soon. We need to start moving before the sun dips below the horizon."
"Just a little longer. They're coming out of the building," Vorenus said, his eye pressed to the telescope.
The first telescopes they had been issued produced inverted, blurry images, but the one Vorenus held now was an improved model.
He could see three men striding out of the central timber hall.
"Judging by the way the warriors around them are showing respect, they must be important men."
"Right. We've confirmed the three tribes are plotting something together. Now let's get out of here."
"What's got into you, Pullo? That doesn't sound like you. You getting cold feet?"
"They've likely noticed those missing hunters by now, and search parties are probably fanning out as we speak. What good is gathering valuable intelligence if we can't make it back alive to deliver it?"
"Yeah, yeah. Fine."
Vorenus shifted his posture. Seeing the three men heading toward an open field, he peered through the telescope more intently.
While the surrounding crowd fell back to a safe distance, a figure carrying a flaming torch stepped into the palisaded enclosure.
The sun was already slipping past the horizon.
The last crimson and amber light of dusk glimmered across the telescope lens.
"What on earth are they trying to do?"
Just as Vorenus muttered to himself, a deafening boom rattled the hilltop.
Vorenus and Pullo threw themselves flat against the dirt almost simultaneously.
"There isn't a storm cloud in the sky... Then where did that thunder..."
Both men flinched at the spectacle unfolding before them.
A colossal eruption of fire—no, it couldn't even be called fire. A blinding, yellowish-white flash burst forth from the center of the palisade in the field.
After the initial flash, smaller bursts crackled in rapid succession, sending a towering plume of thick, grayish-white smoke into the sky.
Amid the screams and cheers echoing across the field, Vorenus murmured in disbelief.
"Great Jupiter above..."
***
A few days later.
[BV de FZ, transmitting highest priority dispatch, to Rome.]
[FZ de HS, transmitting highest priority dispatch, to Rome.]
Gallia Cisalpina, Northern Italy.
In the pitch-black darkness, signalmen flashed lanterns from tower to tower through the darkness.
"What on earth is happening? I don't think I've ever seen a highest-priority dispatch come through before."
"Shut your mouth and keep your eyes on the lanterns! Make a mistake on a single letter, and we'll both lose our heads."
While signalmen frantically operated the levers, lanterns flashed one after another down the line, carrying the message toward its final destination: Rome.
***
"Congratulations, Your Majesty. I hear the assembly is to formally recognize Your Majesty as a Friend and Ally of the Roman People today. It is certainly an occasion worthy of a toast."
"Thank you, Senator Crassus."
"Have you given any thought to the proposals I presented earlier?" Crassus asked, settling back on his couch.
At a wave of his hand, his slaves bowed low and quietly exited the atrium.
"To be completely honest, the offer is exceedingly tempting. Such a vast infusion of capital would be invaluable to us."
"Compared to what Lucius Caesar has offered Your Majesty, it is merely a modest gift."
Crassus smiled warmly. Ever since the Pharaoh's arrival in Rome, Crassus had also been assisting the Egyptian royal house.
Yet their methods were fundamentally different.
"The trade zone Lucius proposed is certainly attractive. However, isn't the Egyptian treasury in urgent need of funds? You have countless urgent projects to finance, after all."
"To offer all those funds entirely interest-free... What monarch could possibly refuse such an offer? But I wonder what price comes with this gift."
"I merely wish to prove myself a true friend of Egypt, just as Your Majesty has proven himself a friend of Rome."
"Friendship carries many meanings, does it not, Senator?"
"Indeed it does. If it pleases Your Majesty, perhaps we could discuss my proposed investment in Alexandria..."
Crassus began. A few years ago, when the outright annexation of Egypt had been fiercely debated in the Senate, Crassus had been the very first to step forward in favor of annexation.
However, the likelihood of an outright annexation taking place under the current circumstances was practically nonexistent.
Yet that did not mean Crassus had lost interest in Egypt.
Egypt was an immense source of wealth and grain.
Even without overt annexation, there were countless ways to sink his claws into the kingdom.
"In exchange, Your Majesty would grant investment rights in the royal mines and exclusive contracts to collect customs duties..."
Just as Crassus was speaking, his son, Publius, approached and whispered into his ear.
"What?... Pompey has already arrived?"
At his son's report, Crassus's brow furrowed for a moment before his expression smoothed over again.
"My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. It appears my presence is urgently required elsewhere. With Your Majesty's permission, I would like my son to explain the rest."
"I do not mind in the slightest, of course, but..."
"I thank Your Majesty for your understanding, and beg your pardon for my abrupt departure."
Leaving the bewildered Pharaoh behind, Crassus strode out of the atrium.
Climbing into his litter, he barked orders at his bearers.
"To the Regia. Immediately."
This was the first time Caesar had ever summoned him so urgently.
Inside the swaying litter, he muttered under his breath.
"What on earth has happened?"
***
""What in the world is going on, Lucius?" Pompey asked, staring at me. Only the two of us were in the Regia office.
Father was expected to arrive as soon as the daily council session wrapped up, and Crassus would likely arrive shortly as well.
A full-fledged emergency meeting of the Triumvirate was about to take place.
Or rather, including me, one could call it a Quadrumvirate.
We had never called an emergency meeting this urgently before.
But we couldn't afford to delay even for a moment.
"To summon all of us over a single piece of intelligence from Gaul... I've got a mountain of preparations to make for the gridiron finals. If this isn't important..."
"Clodius was right."
At my words, Pompey froze.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Gaul is on the move."
The report had reached Rome at dawn that morning, marked as a highest-priority dispatch.
The reconnaissance team monitoring the Helvetii had heard a deafening roar and seen a blinding yellowish-white flash.
They reported that influential figures from several Gallic tribes had gathered at the site, apparently to witness a demonstration of the weapon.
A deafening roar and a yellowish-white flash.
Piecing together everything the scouts had reported, I arrived at only one possible conclusion.
A substance that had no business existing in this era: black powder.
And now the Gauls had it.
It could not possibly be a mere coincidence.
No matter how much I had changed in Rome, none of it could possibly have triggered a butterfly effect that led the Gauls to discover gunpowder.
There was only one explanation: a third party had intervened.
The scarred mastermind who had plotted Pompey's assassination.
The storm the goddess had warned me about.
Someone who possessed knowledge of technology that should not exist in this era.
And Clodius's dying warning.
All the pieces of the puzzle clicked together.
At last, I was beginning to see what the coming storm truly was.
Just then, Pompey leaned forward, his face deadpan.
"Are those Gallic bastards hosting their own gridiron matches?"
"Pardon?"
"You just said it yourself—the Gauls are on the move," Pompey said, wearing the most dead-serious expression I had ever seen on him.
"They refused to send a representative team to our gridiron tournament. Are they holding matches among themselves? That is an outright insult to the authority of Rome."
"This has nothing to do with gridiron."
I broke into a fit of coughing. I was the one who had introduced football to Pompey in the first place, but apparently I'd gotten him far too invested in it.
I needed to spell it out clearly.
"The Gauls have acquired a new substance—no, a devastating new weapon. And the Helvetii are preparing to migrate westward. They intend to invade the territories of tribes allied with Rome—and they'll be doing it armed with this new weapon."
"A new weapon... How did you find out about this?"
"I have reliable operatives in the field."
Just then, Father entered the office with Crassus.
The four of us took our seats around the circular table.
"So, what is so urgent that you summoned us all here?" Crassus asked, looking at me as he sank into his chair. "Whatever it is, it must be serious."
"Yes. The very survival of Rome is at stake."
I nodded firmly before unrolling a map across the table.
The whole of Gaul stretched across the map before us.
I looked from Pompey to Crassus to Father and laid out what we had to do next.
If the Helvetii marched west armed with gunpowder, the Sequani and Aedui would inevitably be the first to fall.
After them, western and central Gaul would be next, and eventually even Rome's own frontiers would come under threat.
We couldn't afford to sit idly by and wait for the threat to reach our frontier.
"We must pacify Gaul."