Welcome to Hero of Rome, a litRPG historical fantasy set in Ancient Rome. If you’re new here, start the story in Chapter 1.
Enjoy the chapter!
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Emperor Elagabalus, in his infinite generosity, invites his subjects to donate more gold, ensuring his bathhouses across Rome are not just any baths, but monuments to his relaxation.
Blood? Did the cyclops harm him before he died? It only looked to be his pants that were bloodied and nothing else.
Whatever the answer was escaped me as Camillus emerged from the stream ahead shrouded in sheepskin to cover himself. He was oblivious to my presence as he approached his dirty clothes. I moved as cautiously as I could backward to avoid colliding with him.
My sandals snapped a twig behind me.
Camillus froze. His eyes fixated to my invisible position and we both held our breaths for a few tense moments.
“Max?” he whispered, eyes preening to see in the dark.
Not wanting to lie or for him to undress before me, I turned myself visible. A look of alarm overshadowed Camillus.
“What are you doing?” he said, pulling the sheepskin more over his features save for his legs.
“I got worried after you took forever,” I said, suddenly feeling very awkward. “I thought you were just going for a leek but you didn’t return.” I gestured to his bloody clothes next. “Did you get injured by the cyclops?”
Camillus blushed before snatching his clothes from the ground. “One of the trainees nicked me on the waist with his training sword,” he said rather quickly. “Now, if you could excuse me, I would like to dress in private.”
“Of course,” I said, turning quickly away from him and returning to our sleeping cave.
How strange, I thought while trying to close my eyes.
Once Camillus was done, he stormed past me and did not wait. I sighed, still confused about what occurred.
Camillus largely ignored me that night, giving me plenty of time to finish the rest of my eighth book from Marcus the night before we left for the raid, giving me eight seconds of foresight now. Once I was finished, I tucked away Of The Nature of Things by Lucretius with a dose of his wisdom lingering in my mind as I went to sleep.
“Watch a man in times of adversity to discover what kind of man he is; for then at last words of truth are drawn from the depths of his heart, and the mask is torn off.”
The next morning it was business as usual. My legs burned under the weight of the stones as we carted them up and down the mountain, the pain becoming a familiar friend that I slowly learned to embrace.
Level: lvl 6 (30/70 Glory)
Skill Points: 2
Glory (+10): 230
Historical Insight (+lvl 8): See 8 seconds into the future of any decision.
Stamina (+20): lvl 5 (0/60)
Stamina now 90/90
Strength: lvl 3 (10/40)
Health: 50/50
The skill points I would save for after the raid meeting tonight to see what would be most valuable. My health was still abysmally low, but that’s because I had spent zero time blacksmithing, cooking, performing alchemy, or enchanting.
Maybe I should save it for those, I thought as we rested for breakfast.
For the next several hours, Bulla had us practice with the sword and shield. As the sun beat down on our necks, he and his commanders drilled us on our footwork first, including our offensive and defensive postures. They constantly tested our core strength by trying to shove us as Bulla barked orders to move in various directions as a whole unit. If it weren’t for the stone-carrying practice, my legs would have been toast at the monotony of the drill.
Finally, we got to our thrusting practice with straw dummies placed in a row before us freedmen. Titus grinned in excitement on my right while Camillus looked staunchly determined on my left.
“Fully extend your arms with each thrust!” Bulla yelled as we began, each of us moving in semi-sync with our wooden gladii while our shields overlapped. “Keep those feet shoulder length apart Camillus!”
My whole body was on fire from the strain about an hour into the sword drills, especially my abs and legs, using my core over and over again to turn and empower my strikes.
“Follow through on the strike, Max,” Bulla said as he walked behind me. “Do not stop once the sword hits the target. Keep pushing for maximum effect.”
Our group of freedmen was practically soaked in sweat after three hours of sword practice, the sun stinging the back of my neck from being without sunscreen.
“Dismissed,” Bulla said as we lay on the ground gasping for air, our bodies reeking of odor. “Max, Camillus, meet us at nightfall and be ready with your equipment. We will discuss the details of the raid before leaving.”
“Yes sir,” I could hardly say as he left. I glanced at Camillus whose eyes stared at the cotton clouds above, similarly trying to catch his breath.
A notification caught my eye as I stood up on shaky feet.
Strength (+10 ): lvl 3 (20/40)
Man, I am so ready for that limitation to be done with, I thought as I went to replenish myself at the stream.
After I caught a hearty early dinner with a still-quiet Camillus, I decided to hunt down the blacksmith in the camp to improve my armor for the raid tomorrow and to improve my measly 50/50 health. Camillus stayed behind to practice his archery while Titus accompanied me to the blacksmith.
“Bulla has asked me to join the raid,” he said as we passed the dozens of bandits going about their own training and chores. “I want to prepare as you are.”
“Fair enough,” I said as we approached the forge.
Stationed near the gate in its own rocky alcove, the makeshift forge was shielded from any gusts of winds. As day died slowly into darkness, the glow of the furnace cast a warm, orange glow upon the surrounding stone walls, while the clanging of metal and crackling of flames drew me in like a flame for a moth.
“What’s his name?” I said, taking in the size of the blacksmith.
“Decimus Julius Varro,” Titus said.
The hulking giant forging a glowing-hot sword bore a weathered face marked by years of toil before a flame. Decimus was huge, with arm muscles the size of my thighs barely contained beneath his leather apron, a scorched beard, and a ponytail to keep his long black hair away from the flames. His eyes were squinted as he hammered with precision the molten sword before dipping it into cool water. A hiss of steam enveloped him as we approached. The blacksmith did not break away from his craft as he inspected the blade.
“How can I help you?” Decimus said in a low voice.
I cleared my throat before speaking, Centurion Crested Helmet and Cuirass Armor. “We were wanting to know if you could help us improve our weapons and armor before the raid tomorrow. I found these in the cyclops lair and they need some repair.”
Decimus took my armor with his calloused hands. He turned them both over as he inspected the damaged and slightly rusty armor. “This will make for fine armor. Have you forged before?”
I shook my head while Titus nodded.
“Hmm, very well. I will show you the process for repairing your equipment. Perhaps I shall upgrade it slightly for you, given I have the materials for it. But since these are badly damaged, it will cost you 300 denarii.”
300? Well, it’s better to live with a little less than to die with a little more, I thought, handing him over the money.
Wealth (-300): 6,700 Denarii
“Very good! Let’s begin.”
He gave them both back to me as he blew air into his forge to increase the forge's heat.
This better be worth it.
“Hold the helmet over the flames with these tongs,” he said after I put on heavy leather gloves and an oversized apron. Decimus removed the feather plume from the top to avoid burning it off. “The metal must first become malleable before we hammer out the dents. Same with your armor, shield, and any weapon you have.”
“What about a mask?” I said as I held it over the intense flame. We hadn’t begun hammering out the dents, but I had seen the sparks fly earlier. I did not want anything molten metal blinding me.
Both Titus and Decimus looked at me with confused yet humorous looks.
“Never mind,” I said, finally understanding why both of their faces were so scarred. I guess protective equipment came later.
Decimus guided my hands as the metal from the helmet began to glow. To make sure I didn’t hammer my hand to death or mess up the helmet entirely, I looked into the future one second at a time to avoid any crucial mistakes before hammering out the dents. Thankfully I did, for in several of the foresights, the hammer slipped and crushed a finger. On those insights I paused, gave it a second, and moved about more carefully.
The cuirass was the more difficult of the two, as there were several sections of the armor that had to be replaced entirely. No amount of hammering dents could fix gouges in the armor where the cyclops had bitten into. Thankfully, Decimus was a master at his trade, so the entire repair process only took three to four hours. By the end, as the sun had completely sunk behind the mountains and the camp was only lit with the glow of torches and campfires, the Centurion Crested Helmet and Cuirass Armor looked brand new. It gleamed beautifully in the forge light.
Centurion Cuirass Armor (Rare):
Defense: +28
Durability: 100/100
Weight: 26 kg
Special Effect: Grants a 15% chance to reflect 20% of incoming damage back to the attacker.
Centurion Crested Helmet (Rare):
Defense: +13
Durability: 65/65
Weight: 5.5 kg
Special Effect: Increases charisma by 8% when worn, boosting diplomacy and leadership skills.
Health (+20): lvl 2: (0/30)
Health now 60/60
Glory (+20): 250
Level: lvl 6 (50/70 Glory)
Skill Points: 2
“Should be better than before,” Decimus said, pride beaming from his face.
“Thank you,” I said as I placed myself into the freshly remade armor. It fit better than before thanks to Decimus’s adjustments throughout the repair.
“Looks good,” Titus said. “Now, let’s be on with it. We are late for the meeting!”