Julius woke like a man surfacing from deep water.

His breath shuddered in his chest.

His skin prickled, sweat-damp beneath the cloak he hadn't remembered pulling around himself.

And yet, when his eyes focused, it wasn't the ash-choked streets of Rome that met him—but canvas.

His tent.

Back in the present.

The scent of lamp oil and cooled iron grounded him.

Slowly, he sat up.

The System's afterimage still shimmered faintly before his eyes, translucent yet undeniable:

Event: Faith & Fire – Complete

Branch: Nero Variant – Legacy Altered

Overall Rank: S

Then came the rewards.

He forced himself to study the display, memorizing every line as if it were gospel.

+30,000 System Points

A fortune as far as the midgame was concerned this alone was worth more than all he'd gained in his recent campaigns against Ramus, and the retaking of the Carthaginian Kingdom.

Enough to increase his stat points by a large margin giving him greater allowance of safety and security should he once more encounter a Hero class character like the Warlord Valdesca he'd faced years ago during the pre-tutorial as the Visigoth Empire invaded the now fallen Lunan Kingdom.

+10,000,000 Denarii

The imperial treasury would swell further though the total gained was barely a drop in the bucket compared to the funds his ancestors had provided to him back when he was still just a lowly lord of the backwater territory of Aquitania.

His legions would continue to march paid.

This ten million could be added to the operating costs of the empire paying for greater road expansion, the foundation of new refugee villages, or even the cost to create reeducation camps to bring the conquered locals over to his side faster and preventing the potential rise of rebellion within his own territories.

But it was the relics that drew his attention next.

[Relic Gained: Chalice of Concordia]

Religious / Administrative Class

Civic Effect: Reduces religious unrest and political agitation in afflicted provinces.

Aura of Calm: Passive suppression of rebellion risk by subtle suggestion of unity.

[Relic Gained: Seal of the Mediator]

Diplomatic / Governance Class

+15% Diplomatic Relations Success Rate.

Once per campaign phase: Automatically force acceptance of a treaty or alliance with any vassal or minor faction.

Passive aura reduces the likelihood of coalition formation against Romanus.

Both relics shimmered faintly where they rested now, tangible, real, at the foot of his cot.

The Chalice—a golden vessel rimmed in soft emerald filigree.

The Seal—a signet the size of a clenched fist, wrought of dark iron and white jade.

And beside them sat the blackwood case containing the Codex Vitae et Veritas.

The signet was a bit of a bust, Julius even during his days back when playing this merely as a game hardly if ever used diplomacy as a weapon, why take on a vassal if you could simply annex the region and take everything rather than dilly dallying about with the local government who are still out to resist the will of the host nation in an attempt to find a path to independance lest they call to being integrated into their overlord.

Julius let the silence stretch.

These weren't minor spoils.

These were artifacts designed to shape nations.

And they were his.

All around him, the empire's small camp moved on in its endless rhythm having long since replaced the desired calls for the noise of the cities and traffic now footfalls and the march of his legions could lull the emperor into sleep.

To them, nothing had changed, at best one of the guards mightve poked their head in only to see the emperor sleeping while seated.

But Julius knew better.

He swung his legs off the cot, standing slowly.

The dream—or whatever the System had forced upon him—felt like it clung to his skin.

He could still hear the people cheering.

Could still feel the wax seal pressed beneath Nero's ring.

Could still remember giving the Christians a future that, in another world, they would have carved from fire and steel.

Now, their future had been rewritten.

And he didn't know yet what that meant, in the game the entire map would have been re-written but now, would his actions in the past really change the way the present was?

He knelt beside the codex.

The blackwood box pulsed faintly beneath his fingertips.

A living relic.

A governance tool so subtle, so insidious, it almost terrified him more than any sword.

The Codex Vitae et Veritas could steer his people's hearts.

Not through fear.

Not through decrees.

But through thought itself.

"One step at a time,"

he whispered.

He needed it back in Romanus, secured within the capital, socketed somewhere deep—perhaps beneath the Basilica Nova or within the chamber below the Senate Hall.

His mind raced as he considered potential Subliminal Imperatives he could activate once he had time:

The Emperor Protects.

Rome is the Faith, and the Faith is Rome.

Perhaps even more daring ones.

But that was for later.

Now, he had decisions to make.

The relics could be equipped immediately.

The Seal would let him force Germania's hand in the coming alliance negotiations.

The Chalice…

He glanced at it, thoughtful.

He could deliver it to the wounded front.

To Elheat's ravaged armies.

Install it at a command post and let its aura of healing and calm restore damaged morale.

Or, he could keep it for his inner circle—strengthen his Praetorian Corps, ensuring no commander fell prey to dissent or exhaustion.

He exhaled slowly.

"Too many answers,"

he muttered.

"Not enough questions."

He stepped back toward the central table, where his war maps lay in disarray from his sudden collapse before the event had consumed him.

But he wasn't the same man who'd fallen into that dream.

His eyes tracked not just the frontlines now, but the flow of ideas.

Belief.

Hope.

He understood now, more than before, what Saint Joan threatened—not his armies.

But his narrative.

In the game, relics shaped armies.

In this world, relics shaped minds.

Saint Joan had her miracles.

Now, Julius had his.

His gaze hardened.

If she was the soul of Francia…

He would become the reaper, one who devours the souls of other nations to nourish and enhance his very own.