Chapter 63: Another Name of the Dark Wizard
.…..
"......Oh boundless star of light and flame, where have you vanished to?"
As Nero's song drew to a close, she was utterly captivated by the sound of her own voice. It was clear that she was deeply moved by her own performance, touched by the artistry and the breadth of her genius—particularly by this piece she had crafted from both her lyrics and composition. Even she, while singing, found herself swept away by the enchanting melody, moved to tears by the beauty of her own creation.
For a considerable moment, the crowd remained silent, until the song came to an end. Suddenly, a prolonged, thunderous applause erupted from the audience, like a storm that refused to abate. This applause jolted Nero from her self-indulgence with her own voice, and she began to survey the grand and chaotic sea of tens of thousands of cheering spectators in the Colosseum's stands.
This was her Empire, now that the scoundrels of the Senate were all gone.
In the lower front rows of the audience seats, a dense sea of white robes stretched out, resembling a layer of pure, clean snow. Among them, surrounding Nero's box, sat the highest-ranking nobles and ministers, as well as local governors, priests, and envoys from various temples. The civil officials were dressed in richly embroidered coats, while the military officers were adorned in bright armor. All the power of Rome's upper echelon converged here.
Looking further up, behind the dignitaries were the warriors; and behind them, rows of seats rose like a cascading fountain, each row higher than the last, teeming with a dark, dense sea of heads. Surrounding these ascending circular seats were rows of towering columns supporting the ceiling, adorned with pairs of festoons in various colors—roses, lilies, ivy, grape leaves, and countless others.
The audience, having ceased their applause, were either engaged in lively discussions, eagerly anticipating the start of the spectacle, or inquiring about the day's schedule. This buzz of activity spread from one row to the next, from the lowest point of the arena to the highest, without a moment's rest.
At last, Nero nodded with satisfaction, surveying the arena several times, and then let one side of her cape drape down—"People of Rome, I declare the games of today officially open!" Following her proclamation, the warriors in the stands let out a resounding "HAH!" And then, from every corner of the vast arena, tens of thousands of throats erupted in a thunderous unison of cheers.
"Unfortunately, not yet, Your Majesty."
"Ah, but what of the capture, my dear Petronius? I distinctly remember my command—he is to be delivered to the cells, alive and breathing, for my very own perusal,"
Petronius replied, "How should I put it, the hounds were not only unsuccessful in capturing him, but they also bore witness to the obliteration of all documentation, courtesy of the explosives Nierse had placed within his shelter. If we could previously glean information from the records about the materials he took from the laboratory, alas, it now seems the imperial mages must resort to excavating such secrets directly from his mind."
"Ah! Those rebellious Free Cities, is it?" Nero mused to herself, "I remember, I did send my hounds to that very region, for it is where Hood..."
Just as she was pondering, a series of increasingly loud laughter erupted from the lower section of the compartment. Disturbed, Nero frowned with displeasure and glanced out the window.
It was none other than the great noble Vitellius—he was fixated on the arena below, smacking his greasy, thick lips covered in meat scraps, and raising his plump, oily hand, painted with nail polish, as he waved a white silk handkerchief, emitting laughter loud enough to drown out sounds within a radius of several dozen meters.
"What on earth is this barrel of lard laughing about? His laughter is so boisterous it even pierces through my meticulously prepared compartment!" Nero inquired of him.
"Your Majesty, it is because the new creation of the Imperial Mage Corps has been slain by the barbarian swordsman Balosas," Petronius explained. "Vitellius is the primary investor behind Rick and has always been opposed to the Imperial Mage Corps introducing new hybrid Deep Ones into the arena."
"Hmph! This barrel of lard understands nothing of my intentions in establishing the arena; he's only concerned with his own petty interests."
"......Oh boundless star of light and flame, where have you vanished to?"
As Nero's song drew to a close, she was utterly captivated by the sound of her own voice. It was clear that she was deeply moved by her own performance, touched by the artistry and the breadth of her genius—particularly by this piece she had crafted from both her lyrics and composition. Even she, while singing, found herself swept away by the enchanting melody, moved to tears by the beauty of her own creation.
For a considerable moment, the crowd remained silent, until the song came to an end. Suddenly, a prolonged, thunderous applause erupted from the audience, like a storm that refused to abate. This applause jolted Nero from her self-indulgence with her own voice, and she began to survey the grand and chaotic sea of tens of thousands of cheering spectators in the Colosseum's stands.
This was her Empire, now that the scoundrels of the Senate were all gone.
In the lower front rows of the audience seats, a dense sea of white robes stretched out, resembling a layer of pure, clean snow. Among them, surrounding Nero's box, sat the highest-ranking nobles and ministers, as well as local governors, priests, and envoys from various temples. The civil officials were dressed in richly embroidered coats, while the military officers were adorned in bright armor. All the power of Rome's upper echelon converged here.
Looking further up, behind the dignitaries were the warriors; and behind them, rows of seats rose like a cascading fountain, each row higher than the last, teeming with a dark, dense sea of heads. Surrounding these ascending circular seats were rows of towering columns supporting the ceiling, adorned with pairs of festoons in various colors—roses, lilies, ivy, grape leaves, and countless others.
The audience, having ceased their applause, were either engaged in lively discussions, eagerly anticipating the start of the spectacle, or inquiring about the day's schedule. This buzz of activity spread from one row to the next, from the lowest point of the arena to the highest, without a moment's rest.
At last, Nero nodded with satisfaction, surveying the arena several times, and then let one side of her cape drape down—"People of Rome, I declare the games of today officially open!" Following her proclamation, the warriors in the stands let out a resounding "HAH!" And then, from every corner of the vast arena, tens of thousands of throats erupted in a thunderous unison of cheers.
.…..
The opening ritual of the games naturally featured beast fights, a spectacle at which the barbarian tribe Bahasa excelled.
The warriors of the barbarian tribe all sported long black braids, their muscular bodies resembling blocks of granite under the scorching sun. Some carried massive two-handed swords that resembled door panels, others wielded giant tridents, and some were wrapped in black chains, shouldering saw-toothed spears as tall as two or three men—each one unique. These warriors with sub-giant bloodlines marched into the arena with steps heavier than those of ferocious beasts, circling the spectators' seats as they paraded around the combat field.
The opening ritual of the games naturally featured beast fights, a spectacle at which the barbarian tribe Bahasa excelled.
The warriors of the barbarian tribe all sported long black braids, their muscular bodies resembling blocks of granite under the scorching sun. Some carried massive two-handed swords that resembled door panels, others wielded giant tridents, and some were wrapped in black chains, shouldering saw-toothed spears as tall as two or three men—each one unique. These warriors with sub-giant bloodlines marched into the arena with steps heavier than those of ferocious beasts, circling the spectators' seats as they paraded around the combat field.
At this moment, in the stands, from the top to the bottom of every row, all that could be seen were faces flushed with excitement and fervor, hands gesturing wildly, and mouths agape with various intense emotions. Then, applause began to erupt from some seats, quickly spreading across the entire stand, transforming into a vast, ever-expanding roar of applause—until the sudden piercing sound of a horn sliced through the sky, and the arena's cacophony gradually subsided. Following this, the barbarian gladiators simultaneously raised their heads and looked towards Nero, lifting their right hands towards her while dragging out the long, single notes assigned by their trainers—despite their complete ignorance of the meaning of these Latin words—they shouted:
"AVE CAESAR IMPERATOR! MORITURI TE SALUTANT! (Hail, Caesar Emperor! We salute you before we die!)"
"AVE CAESAR IMPERATOR! MORITURI TE SALUTANT! (Hail, Caesar Emperor! We salute you before we die!)"
Just as Nero, holding her monocular telescope in one hand and waving with the other, began to shift her gaze through the telescope towards the monsters sent for the experiment, a voice suddenly sounded behind her.
"Greetings to you, Your Majesty, the report from the hounds has arrived."
Nero did not turn around; her gaze, through the monocular telescope, shifted towards the hybrid Deep One entering the arena, restrained by chains—a new creation developed by the Empire's mages: "Oh, isn't it Petronius? Is the report from the hounds about that matter?"
"The fugitive dark wizard—Nierse Istria."
"Ah, Nierse!" Nero exclaimed with keen interest, setting down the monocular telescope in her hand and turning around. "Is he not the master of our arena's star Deep One—Rick? Have our hounds succeeded in unveiling the true name of this dark wizard?"
"Greetings to you, Your Majesty, the report from the hounds has arrived."
Nero did not turn around; her gaze, through the monocular telescope, shifted towards the hybrid Deep One entering the arena, restrained by chains—a new creation developed by the Empire's mages: "Oh, isn't it Petronius? Is the report from the hounds about that matter?"
"The fugitive dark wizard—Nierse Istria."
"Ah, Nierse!" Nero exclaimed with keen interest, setting down the monocular telescope in her hand and turning around. "Is he not the master of our arena's star Deep One—Rick? Have our hounds succeeded in unveiling the true name of this dark wizard?"
The man who approached was draped in a noble-style white robe, his stature tall and his build strong, with jet-black hair and eyes, and a face that was truly exceptional. His presence was one of refined grace and elegance; as a handsome man, he was without peer in Rome. Yet, Nero would never dream of disrespecting him, for this man was the palace steward, elevated from the rank of consul, and deeply admired by Nero for his mastery in the arts. To her, he was considered as a kindred spirit, not someone to be taken lightly or ordered around without thought.
"Unfortunately, not yet, Your Majesty."
"Ah, but what of the capture, my dear Petronius? I distinctly remember my command—he is to be delivered to the cells, alive and breathing, for my very own perusal,"
Petronius replied, "How should I put it, the hounds were not only unsuccessful in capturing him, but they also bore witness to the obliteration of all documentation, courtesy of the explosives Nierse had placed within his shelter. If we could previously glean information from the records about the materials he took from the laboratory, alas, it now seems the imperial mages must resort to excavating such secrets directly from his mind."
"...... Hmm," Nero murmured, half-closing her eyes. "With the records now ashes, there's little merit in indulging in vexation. Petronius, do share with me the current abode of our elusive dark wizard."
"Indeed, I align with Your Majesty's profound insight," Petronius affirmed with a nod. "According to the approximate location provided by the imperial mages, it is ascertained that Nierse has indeed reincarnated from his shelter to the environs of Mount Karaskai. And at this moment, it is presumed he is operating near the tundra outside the city of Cast."
"Indeed, I align with Your Majesty's profound insight," Petronius affirmed with a nod. "According to the approximate location provided by the imperial mages, it is ascertained that Nierse has indeed reincarnated from his shelter to the environs of Mount Karaskai. And at this moment, it is presumed he is operating near the tundra outside the city of Cast."
"Ah! Those rebellious Free Cities, is it?" Nero mused to herself, "I remember, I did send my hounds to that very region, for it is where Hood..."
Just as she was pondering, a series of increasingly loud laughter erupted from the lower section of the compartment. Disturbed, Nero frowned with displeasure and glanced out the window.
It was none other than the great noble Vitellius—he was fixated on the arena below, smacking his greasy, thick lips covered in meat scraps, and raising his plump, oily hand, painted with nail polish, as he waved a white silk handkerchief, emitting laughter loud enough to drown out sounds within a radius of several dozen meters.
"What on earth is this barrel of lard laughing about? His laughter is so boisterous it even pierces through my meticulously prepared compartment!" Nero inquired of him.
"Your Majesty, it is because the new creation of the Imperial Mage Corps has been slain by the barbarian swordsman Balosas," Petronius explained. "Vitellius is the primary investor behind Rick and has always been opposed to the Imperial Mage Corps introducing new hybrid Deep Ones into the arena."
"Hmph! This barrel of lard understands nothing of my intentions in establishing the arena; he's only concerned with his own petty interests."
"Your Majesty, one of the primary distinctions between men and beasts is the ability to laugh," Petronius responded. "Thus, he is using laughter to demonstrate to you that he is not, as his appearance might suggest, merely a purebred fool."
"Well said, I quite like that!" Nero nodded with satisfaction, casting aside her previous displeasure. "Concerning the matter of Nierse, let the Third Order of the Hounds persist in their pursuit. Let this be my decree. And now, Petronius, do you have anything else to report?"
"Well said, I quite like that!" Nero nodded with satisfaction, casting aside her previous displeasure. "Concerning the matter of Nierse, let the Third Order of the Hounds persist in their pursuit. Let this be my decree. And now, Petronius, do you have anything else to report?"
"It pertains to our collaboration with the Moranth, Your Majesty. The Empire's Chemical Research Institute has achieved new results with them, and Castivia will be awaiting you there. Now, with your permission, I shall take my leave to attend to my wife."
"Dismissed, and I shall remember your report."
"Dismissed, and I shall remember your report."
Author's Note:
Nierse Istria is set as the protagonist's former name.
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