Thus, the twins came into conflict. Like Enkidu and Gilgamesh, both twins fought with all their strength. Unlike them, however, neither side "understood" the other during the battle. In the end, Romulus won and survived, while Remus lost and died.
"No, Romulus. Your Rome must never be allowed to be born into this world. Its birth should never have existed!"
"Why would you do this?" Romulus had asked at the time.
"On that day, I saw the Child of Dawn who would descend upon the earth. Why? Why, bright star, son of the morning, have you fallen from heaven—"
Remus answered in that way, his voice stripped of emotion. Yet deep within it seemed to lurk a cold, magma-like, terrifying pulse:
"You have won, but you are finished as well. Your Rome, my people, will ultimately—after the turning of the age—be dragged into a hell from which they can never escape. The love of the Child of Dawn cannot be conveyed, because it will only be a fire that burns all things to ashes. It can no longer become the star it once was. At the end of desire lies only destruction. Romulus, everything caused by your 'Rome'—you are the true sinner..."
And so, as he watched his younger brother breathe his last, the one who represented humanity's potential came to understand—
Remus was actually just like him: someone who regarded everything as his own child, a person of Rome.
From then on, Romulus's mental state became somewhat abnormal, and the things he said began to sound strange.
Until later, when the Senate plotted against Romulus. At a military parade, they had him drink poisoned wine. Then, as a fierce wind rose, they led him into the inner hall to take shelter. Just as they were about to take up their daggers, kill Romulus, and cut him into pieces—
"You all wish to kill me, yet you are all my beloved children. You are all embodiments of glory and shadow."
Blood trailed from the corner of Romulus's mouth, yet he was smiling. To those who opposed him, this man was terrifying.
"I seek, crave, and hope that these hands are not meant for destruction, but to open the darkness of ignorance, touch the unknown, and exist for the sake of human love."
"Your desires are both the arrogant expression that dominates all creation and the brilliance of humanity, dreaming of tomorrow and ceaselessly advancing. That is precisely why... I cannot help but love you."
The man's words still sounded incomprehensible to everyone, just as they had for all the years since he had personally killed his brother Remus.
Perhaps their attempt to murder him stemmed both from their thirst for power and from the fact that Romulus's words were always so difficult to understand.
"As you wish, then. This must be what Remus hoped for as well. From this day onward, I shall no longer be human. I shall become the Supreme God,
but this is not born of a god's pity for humanity. Rather, I shall discard my human identity and become a star in the heavens, blessing you, blessing the world, blessing Rome, and blessing everything that loves you."
"Beneath glory, there will naturally be darkness. After trials, restraint, betrayal, and decline, beyond the waves that rise from a sea of blood lies dreadful Babylon—
the rebuilding of the holy city, the acceptance of the kingdom, the Dragon of Albion's seven crowns, the beast of the sea's ten crowns, seven red heads, ten crowns—the mother of all harlots and abominations! She returns from affectation and decadence. Trinity! The three great beasts of seven heads and ten horns are one! Trinity! How terrifying! But what of it? That too is Rome! It is equal to my sister!"
Dressed in blue, Romulus spread his arms and strode into the gale. In an instant, his entire body radiated golden glory.
"The world is filled with Rome. Yes, embodiments of glory and shadow, Child of Dawn—your descent is indeed my sin, but that is still Rome. I think it does not matter even if I am the only one who believes so.
I believe the love of the fire that burns all things to ashes can be conveyed. Therefore, you will surely see, amid countless impurities, something brilliant enough to dazzle the eye—my children, Rome."
The golden majesty vanished into the raging wind. Only the man's laughter echoed for a long time. What remained there was merely humanity's potential.
"...This is the life of Romulus."
The Sibylline Oracles revealed that distant past, those events long gone, within Novia's mind.
This had happened suddenly, here, in this place of ending recorded in the Book of Revelation.
By combining the prophecies of this oracle and the Book of Revelation, it was not difficult to see that in the distant past, before Rome had been established, Remus had foreseen that the Child of Dawn, born alongside Rome's sins and evil and unable to become a star, would devour everything. That was why he had fought Romulus to the death, only to be defeated and die.
Afterward, Romulus abandoned his human identity because of the Senate's assassination attempt and became the Supreme God, protecting "Rome." Yet his attitude was the complete opposite of his brother's.
Though they spoke in riddles, everything was actually quite clear to Novia. In the Type-Moon world, Satan and Lucifer were the same being, so the twins were naturally speaking of Nero.
However, Novia was greatly puzzled by the "love that cannot be conveyed." Hadn't he and Nero gotten along quite well all these years? They had even kissed. It was only that he had not yet told her about Melusine... Could that be why?
Or was the problem actually her mother, Agrippina?
Either way, Novia intended to find a way to resolve it.
The Teacher Is Everything; Nothing Else Is Needed
Drip, drip, drip. Countless drops of water poured down from the isthmus as the river gradually seeped into the earth.
Nero looked at her hands and the canal that had just been opened, then let out a soft breath.
At the moment the canal through the Isthmus of Corinth opened, the entire scene was filled with solemnity and celebration. Sunlight fell upon the sparkling water, golden radiance complementing the canal's winding course. Citizens from both banks flocked to the river, their faces brimming with excited, joyful smiles.
The canal had been planned ever since Caesar's era. Its successful opening not long after Nero ascended the throne represented the Roman Empire's further strengthening of its commercial control over Greece.
"Rome!"
"Rome!"
Voices praising the Rose Emperor rang out everywhere, directed at the bright, lively blonde girl who radiated such a cheerful atmosphere.
Nero happily raised her hand in response. The citizens' approval gave her a sense of reassurance, because it meant her teacher must surely think the same way. Yet despite her joy, she still felt a faint sense of disappointment...
It would have been nice if her teacher had been here too.
Trying to imagine it was not difficult for Nero.
Sound and scent, color and movement. That person's voice reached her ears. Somewhere quiet, in a lush forest blooming with flowers and trees in dazzling colors, there would be only the two of them. Her heart would pound like a startled deer, and she would feel as though she were floating through the clouds, as if she could accomplish anything...
No, she should stop there. Her teacher probably would not permit that.
Novia was undoubtedly the person she loved most in the world, but the gap between them was too great. That troubled her deeply. So, she had always wanted to become someone worthy of what he hoped for. Then she wanted to stay by Novia's side and accompany him as much as possible. Yet after learning from her mother that she was actually being controlled, that concern vanished.
Wonderful. That meant she truly was important to Novia. Her teacher's kindness toward her was built upon something, and that filled her with incomparable satisfaction.
When she was very young, when both her parents were still by her side, Nero would often find such thoughts sprouting in her heart:
It would have been better if I had never been born.
Though she had never spoken those words aloud, they had already been deeply branded into the girl's body, impossible to dispel.
"Hey! Did you run off to find another man again!?"
Her father's furious curses and her mother's impatient voice denying it.
In her memories, her father sat sprawled across the bed drinking, while her mother stood nearby with a contemptuous expression.
Ever since Nero could remember, her home had always been filled with rage and violence.
"And this one too. She isn't even mine, is she? Hah."
A disdainful gaze swept over her small body from head to toe like a whip. There was no mercy in it, no trace of sympathy in that voice.
Still a child, Nero slowly blinked and breathed quietly, doing her best not to make a sound.
Her alcohol-soaked father clicked his tongue and tossed out the words, "I'm sick of seeing you."
"Forget it. Go, go. Don't let me see your mother-daughter faces. Looking at you makes me sick. It would have been better if you'd never been born."
After angrily saying that, the man waved his hand before his own child as though chasing away a stray dog. Though the corridor leading to the room at the end was lit by fire, for some reason it looked terribly dark. That house always seemed shrouded in gloom.
Even after he died, after her mother was exiled, after the young child wandered the streets and was taken in by relatives, she still lived in the mud.
Living under another person's roof, enduring the contemptuous looks brought on by her mother's promiscuity like whips, day after day, year after year. Whenever they were in a bad mood, they would curse at her. They were merely complaining, merely venting their stress... This world should never have had a day of resurrection. She always felt that it would have been best if life had never existed from the beginning.
It would have been better if I had never been born.
Those words were like a curse, binding the girl hand and foot and forever lingering against her eardrums.
Many years later, after her mother traded her away to someone she had only heard of as Novia, she thought he looked like a decent person, but she had not held much hope. After all, these people were all disgusting in private, one worse than the next.
This world was a sandbox filled with nothing but disgusting mud wherever one went. It would be best to burn it all to death.
That was what she believed, and she was prepared to throw herself into the endless mire of this world.
However, Novia was overwhelmingly different from what she had imagined and from everyone she had encountered before.
His gaze and his words were completely unlike those of anyone the girl had met in the past.
This person's gaze was always gentle and accepting, without the slightest negative emotion.
Everything he said was an affirmation of the girl, as though every word had been spoken solely to reach her.
He seriously considered her circumstances and tried his best to convey his thoughts to her.
Yet after spending some time with him, the girl found this person frightening. What exactly was he after?
Moreover, the self who had grown accustomed to Novia's presence, accustomed to being with Novia, was frightening.
Because this person would not always remain by her side. He would not spend every moment of eternity with her. If she developed the mistaken belief that his presence was only natural, then one day, when he abandoned her, she would surely feel empty without him beside her. She would find it unbearable.
This change, this unfamiliar emotion, made the girl deeply uneasy. It frightened her from the bottom of her heart, so she deliberately went to test him.
"I want to become someone like you, Teacher!"
"Is that what you think?" Novia had narrowed his eyes and smiled faintly. "Though this is only my personal view..."
The silver-haired youth began with those words and looked at the girl with an exceedingly sincere gaze.
"My student, if you need help, please tell me, Domitius."
For some reason, upon hearing Novia's resolute tone, the girl who had been prepared to refute him found herself unable to do so.
"I hope you will remember that, no matter what."
That person smiled as he spoke, as though praying, as though pleading.
In all her life, no one had ever faced someone like her so directly and spoken to her this way.
Although Nero did not know what he wanted from her, she knew that Novia had said those things for her sake.
Therefore, Nero felt that in that moment, her life, after being buried in endless mud, had begun once more.
Throughout her entire body, as naturally as breathing, a feeling sprouted—
She liked Novia. Her teacher was everything; nothing else was needed.
A True Loser of the First Century
"Huh? He has already left?"
"Yes, though I do not know where he went."
Time returned to the day after Novia had flown to Armageddon with Melusine.
At the Praetorian Guard's encampment outside Rome, Lucius, who had only recently become commander of the guard, was following Novia's wishes and remolding these men into soldiers with faith rather than men who spent their days indulging in the decadent privileges of their lofty positions.
Because of Novia's current prestige, coupled with Lucius's declaration that anyone unhappy with him could challenge him to a duel, most of the Praetorian Guard had naturally been beaten into submission over time and had become obedient to him.
However, Novia also understood that even if the Roman Empire later established an effective administrative system through Christianity, using the doctrines he preached to stabilize the Romans' spiritual faith, it would only delay the steps of its destined destruction. No matter how much it expanded, the most fundamental problems would still remain and eventually destroy Rome. There was nothing to be done about that.
"Lady Shiyali, why not go into the city and see the sights? Once Novia—ah, once His Holiness the Pope returns, I will inform you."
Lucius moved his feet and walked to the entrance of the Praetorian Guard's encampment, speaking to Shiyali, who had come here.
For the purple-haired girl who had lived within the Atlas Institute for many years, she knew almost nothing of what happened within the Roman Empire. After all, the Atlas Institute did not pay much attention to such things and focused only on its research.
Naturally, Shiyali was no exception. If her adoptive father, the institute's director, had not personally told her that Novia had established an organization called the Holy Church, she likely would still be at the Atlas Institute. At first, she had been confused as to why the director was telling her something so inexplicable, since it was of no use to her research.
But then she thought that Novia was a friend she had only just managed to gain, so she should at least show her support. That was why she came, only to miss him.
"No. If that is the case, then I must leave, because I am still busy with my research..."
Upon learning this, Shiyali felt as though her mind had gone blank. She stared vacantly at the unchanged sky and felt quite uncomfortable. Perhaps she was upset because she had spent precious time and failed to see him.
Or perhaps it was because she had not been able to see the person she wished to see, and that left her restless and distressed.
"Then is there anything you would like to say to him before you leave? I can pass it on."
"No, I have nothing—"
"Really?"
Lucius grinned.
After all, he had once been involved with a druid priestess nearly a hundred years old. Though the two had actually been using each other on the battlefield, before the druid priestess was executed, she had left a scar on his face. That scar eventually caused Lucius to suddenly go blind during a battle, resulting in his defeat.
Until he met Jesus, he had survived miserably in darkness, living like a walking corpse. In the end, he was redeemed and saw the light again.
More than a decade later, he met Novia and personally witnessed him gradually turn Christianity into what it was today, even renaming it the Holy Church.
As for Shiyali, whom Novia had once invited to Britain to study the Dragon of Albion, Lucius had noticed long ago that although the purple-haired girl appeared cold on the surface, she actually had a favorable impression of Novia. She was simply not good at expressing emotions. It could be said that something was suppressing her.
Therefore, Lucius believed he could still play matchmaker for the two of them. After all, he had never seen any other women around Novia. If Novia had not refused, Lucius would have introduced some female Druids to him in Britain long ago.
"..."
In Shiyali's eyes, Lucius was forcing her to say something to Novia even though he was not here. She had clearly said there was nothing, yet he still wanted her to say something.
The girl did not understand what that meant. She only felt that people were truly strange; countless people meant countless peculiarities. If she had not resolved, after meeting Novia, never to use Aether Lines to steal others' perceptions again and instead rely on her own senses, then with her old temperament, she would have used Aether Lines on Lucius already.
Before you continue