Chapter 130: Slaughter

It was frankly unbelievable that someone could read a textbook detailing the nature of the world and immediately zero in on the glaring absence of divine intervention...

Lucius had also locked away the memories of his past life. Aside from utilizing his industrial knowledge during his first few months after transmigrating into this era, he rarely pondered his origins anymore.

His ministers were far too terrified of his intellect to question his phrasing, he had simply grown arrogant and careless.

Her logic was as sharp as any modern scholar who had undergone a rigorous university education.

Furthermore, she had used leading, Socratic questions to corner him, ensuring he had zero room to argue his way out of the trap.

Lucius’s mind was spinning, he had no idea how to respond to her gaze.

Valeria finally broke the tension. Her expression softened remarkably. "You do not have to provide me with an answer tonight. It is late, and I am returning to the quarters. You should get some sleep as well, Lucius."

"Um... very well," Lucius mumbled.

Valeria paused. She turned around and asked, "I can implicitly trust you... whoever you truly are, right?"

Usually, Lucius would have confidently barked an arrogant confirmation, but in that vulnerable moment, he found himself struggling to form words.

He could only manage a slow nod.

After the door clicked shut, the shadows in the corner of the study seemed to ripple.

Isolda stepped silently into the candlelight. She looked genuinely confused. "How could she just drop the interrogation and leave like that?"

"Why do you look so disappointed?" Lucius scoffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Because I was seconds away from finally hearing your true origin story!" Isolda crossed her arms, a rare smirk on her face. "Why didn’t she press the blade to your throat?"

Lucius sighed heavily, leaning back into his chair.

Lucius simply could not tell Valeria the truth of his transmigration... at least not at this exact moment.

Isolda were different.

He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts.

Lucius turned his eyes back to her. "You heard Aulus’s report earlier. What are your thoughts on taking Silas and Camilla to personally scout the situation in Noricum?"

"That will be no problem."

"This is not going to be a simple stroll through the mountains... To be honest, I am somewhat worried about you," Lucius said slowly.

"What... what is there to be worried about?" Isolda stuttered, slightly taken aback by his sudden shift in tone. "I will be fine. Even if I have to slit Prefect Flavius’s throat, stuff him in a burlap sack, and drag his bleeding body back to Gaul..."

"That is exactly the psychotic behavior I am worried about!" Lucius slammed his fist against the desk, making the inkwell jump. "What do you mean, ’drag him back’? Are you trying to provoke the Praetorian Guard into tearing our infiltration team to shreds? Listen to me closely. You are to meticulously scout the situation *before* you confront the Prefect. It is acceptable if he refuses the trade agreement; just do not threaten his life. As a corrupt Roman noble, he will be familiar with assassination tactics. Do not corner him."

"Uh... is that your only directive?" she asked, her shoulders drooping with disappointment.

"That is all regarding the negotiations," Lucius frowned. "Additionally, you need to assist Silas in mapping the exact layout of the Noricum mountain passes. Record the defensive fortifications, the Praetorian sentry rotations, and the exact supply lines of the Roman armies stationed there. Once the intelligence is secured, return to Lugdunum as quickly as possible."

"And finally," Lucius said, "be safe."

...

January 9, 222 AD.

"Can we get another pitcher of watered wine over here?"

"Hey, where is my roasted dormouse?"

"Coming, coming! Keep your filthy tunics on!"

Senator Quintus stepped into the cramped, subterranean *popina*, and was assaulted by a wave of plebeian chatter.

As an elite member of the Senate, Quintus rarely ever set foot into the impoverished slums of the Subura, and he was not accustomed to being in such tight quarters with commoners.

If not for his highly illegal appointment with the *Sicarii* underworld, he wouldn’t be caught dead in this filthy back-alley tavern.

Following the strict rules he had purchased, Quintus quickly located his primary target...

A skinny man wearing a wool cloak, sitting alone in a filthy corner of the tavern.

A small dagger lay resting next to his hand.

Quintus slid onto the greasy bench across from the man and whispered, "Praise be to the shadow of Pluto."

"You did not bring any silver to offer praise," the cloaked man rasped.

"But I carry the weight that measures all sins in Rome," Quintus replied.

The man shrugged his bony shoulders. "You can call me the Rat. I heard the Senator is looking to purchase some treasonous information?"

Quintus gave a short nod.

While Consul Valerian was stalling the Senate, refusing to provide accurate reports from the northern front, Quintus hadn’t been able to sleep.

He was spending his family’s gold to ask around about the Syndicate’s true military strength.

A rebel faction that could decisively hold the Gallic borders for over a year, annihilating multiple veteran legions, and stump Consul Valerian was surely a force to be reckoned with.

The fastest way to bypass Valerian’s strict military censorship and gain the truth was through the criminal smuggling networks of the *Sicarii*.

This was the sixth underworld smuggler Quintus had covertly spoken to, and the information he had purchased deeply terrified him...

The legendary Forge Master, Lucius Cassius, was absolutely not showing any signs of weakening.

In fact, the Syndicate was preparing a massive invasion to dethrone the Senate entirely!

This specific smuggler was also highly reputable... although Consul Valerian went to extreme lengths to hide the horrific news, Quintus had still managed to hear whispers of a slaughter at the Alpine fortress of Genava.

If these terrifying rumors of chemical fire were actually true, maintaining an alliance with Valerian was suicidal at best...

Quintus needed to get to the absolute bottom of this military cover-up to protect his own senatorial house from the impending slaughter.

"That is correct," Senator Quintus whispered, leaning across the table. "I want to know the truth about the slaughter that occurred at the fortress of Genava three months ago."