Imperator: Resurrection of an Empire

The sun hung low over the Arcadian hills, its amber glow casting long shadows across the camp of the 2nd Romanus Legion as the legionnaires began to take rest after another hard days work.

Julius paced along the edge of the command tent, his mind wandering as he tried to re-psych himself up to enter the battlefield once again.

Just days before he was relaxing as if he'd already won the war and could just tour a foreign city with Yuri at his side, have the chance to live a quiet life if only for a bit longer, but the threat of Visigoth lingering ever to his lands north left no chance for rest, he needed to end things in the Peleponese while acquiring anything he could to further enhance his own nation while making ties to other lands.

Germania and Dacia could be strong political allies even if their military forces were lacking considerably compared to some of the other major nations currently present in the world.

Inside the tent, General Haddin's voice was a gruff murmur as he handed Julius a final report before relinquishing command over the legion, and falling into line as a subordinate to his commander.

The veteran general's eyes, sharp and battle-worn, lingered on Julius as if measuring how much more strength his king had to give for the battlefield.

"The Athenian's will come at us hard, in retaliation,"

Haddin said.

His hand, thick and scarred, pointed to a hastily sketched map pinned to the table sitting at the center of the tent.

The Arcadian plains stretched wide, the faint markings of rivers and hills barely containing the chaos they all knew was coming with the two romanus legions being featured by simple wooden tokens placed down to show their positions, while a third was placed to guess at where the auxiliary forces presently were.

"The Greecian remnants are sure to be desperate given how far we've managed to push them, but remember desperate men can be dangerous. Yuri and the First Legion are holding the southern approach from the city of Ephyra. Meanwhile we've got the northern flank though it's less secured since we're only newly arrived in these lands unlike you're dug in force. If the enemy is smart, they'll split their forces to strike at both of your simultaneously prevent either from coming to the aid of the other. If they're reckless…"

Haddin let the thought hang in the air, the implication clear.

Julius nodded, studying the map with intensity.

His eyes pouring over the map, memories of all his numerous playthroughs replaying in his mind as he tried to come up with a plan for how to deal with the reeling Athenian and retreating Greecian forces.

"The First Legion's been under your command for months now, you needn't worry about the young miss, she was your second and will be a great commander in your absence and the legion won't hesitate to lay down their lives to protect her for you."

General Haddin's words cames as a bit of a shock to Julius but after thinking on it, he simply shrugged his shoulders as the old man probably though his pondering on the map was in worry over the fact that he had to leave Yuri behind, the woman many viewed to be his future wife, and in effect their queen.

Julius knew quite a bit about Yuri or rather about former Princess Yurasia Roserun, both from his time endlessly playing the game, reading the character bios, and flavour text but also because he'd pretty much spent every single day with her by his side not only during this campaign but also after the founding of his own nation, if he didn't know roughly how the mechanics of the game worked he would have long ago chosen her as his paramour never needing to fear about potentially being stabbed in the back.

"I don't doubt her, or the legion for that matter."

Julius said after a pause, his voice steady.

"But if the Greecians come at both our flanks, we'll need to coordinate. There will be no room for error and as we're on their home turf we'll be outnumbered far worse than before if the enemy leaders rouse the fighting spirit of the people to rise up in resistance of our invasion."

Haddin grunted, crossing his arms.

"Then we'd best come up with good plans to ensure even if we're outnumbered 100:1 that we can pull off another phyrric victory just like your first battle in the hills against the Visigoth Empire."

Julius met the older man's gaze, understanding the unspoken challenge coming from this seasoned commander.

Command wasn't all just about number of men under your command but how effectively you could use those men.

"We'll have plan in place as soon as we know what the enemy has in store for us, otherwise the number of plans we could come up with would be a detriment to us rather than help."

"That makes sense milord, but what about the legion themself?"

"I'll address them at dawn,"

Julius said firmly.

"They'll know who's leading them—and what's at stake."

A messenger just then burst into the tent, his face pale and his breathing laboured as if he'd just run a great distance at top speed.

"Sir! A scout has returned with news."

The legionaire handed Julius a rolled parchment scroll, the edges of it were stained with dirt.

Julius unrolled it swiftly, his eyes scanning the hastily scrawled message.

"The Greecian counter-invasion force has been sighted,"

he said, his voice tight.

"Roughly three days' march from here, could be less time if they push hard and force the march. Their numbers are greater than we expected as well—nearly fifty thousand strong from what the scout's report states."

Haddin let out a low whistle, shaking his head.

"More than five times we've got between the two legions combined. Where the hell did they find all of the men?"

"Desperation as you said before, it breeds strange bed-fellows,"

Julius replied grimly.

"They've most likely conscripted every able-bodied man they could find. Farmers, labourers… anyone who can hold a spear out and aimed towards our hearts."

Haddin snorted.

"That's not an army; that's a mob with sticks... sir."

Haddin could only scoff a the idea of the levy force being arrayed before them.

"Don't underestimate them,"

Julius warned his commander.

"A mob can still kill. And if they think this is their last chance to drive us out of Arcadia, they'll fight like cornered wolves, fighting to the last, even when injured not bothering to lay down their arms and simply lie there among the dead with all that remains of their lives."

The tent fell silent, the weight of the situation settling over them.

Julius rolled up the report and looked over to Haddin.

"I'll need a full report on our supplies, troop formations, and the terrain we're currently holding. And send word to Yuri—she needs to know exactly what we're up against, as she'll need to prepare the city for a new siege."

Haddin hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"You're the legion commander now. I'll see it done."

As the older general left the tent, Julius allowed himself a single breath of stillness.

The weight of command was not unfamiliar to him now—before the wars were just a series of statistics numbers he'd see come up on his screen as he played the game.

But now, with war looming once again and thousands more real lives depending on his choices, he understood the true meaning of that burden, more so this time than all the others because this time he was the one who'd put them in harm's way, he was the one who provoked this enemy into attacking them.

It was not just the weight of strategy or tactics—it was the weight of trust, of responsibility, of knowing that every decision he made would ripple outward, for better or worse.

He stepped out of the command tent into the fading light, his eyes scanning the rows of tents and campfires that stretched across the hillside.

The men of the 2nd Legion had moved with practiced efficiency getting this new camp setup in what felt like no time at all, most of the men were already wearing fatigues and relaxing next to the fires, or taking naps in their tents, while those assigned to sentry duty stood at the ready their armour gleaming in the firelight.

These legionaires are battle-hardened veterans, hardened by months of war—but even veterans could falter without strong leadership guiding them in the proper direction.

Julius set his jaw, determination hardening within him.

He was in charge of this new legion, men whom most of which he'd fought with but not recently, and they themselves didn't yet know their king walked among them having assumed command from Haddin, former General of Aquitania until he became the first general under the new land, their new kingdom.

And when the battle came in days to come, they would fight not as a scattered legion newly formed, but as a single, unyielding force moulded and shaped into an instrument of death, wielded in his own will.

The wind shifted, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and earth which coated his nose.

Somewhere out there, the new Greecian army was marching toward them, their desperation driving them forward like a storm.

Julius turned his gaze to the horizon, the fading light painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold.

The storm was coming.

And he would meet it head-on.

______________________________

Morning broke over the Arcadian plains in a blaze of orange and gold.

The first rays of sunlight stretched across the 2nd Legion's camp, casting long shadows over rows of tents and the glinting steel of spears and shields.

The crisp chill of dawn was laced with the distant hum of restless soldiers stirring to life.

A battle loomed, and every man felt it in the air.

Julius stood on an improvised wooden platform in the heart of the camp, a commanding figure clad in his polished armour, his crimson cloak billowing faintly in the morning breeze.

Below him, the entire 2nd Romanus Legion had gathered, over five thousand men arranged in disciplined rows, their faces upturned toward their new commander.

The murmurs that had rippled through the ranks when the summons came had faded, replaced by an expectant silence.

Every soldier's gaze was fixed on Julius.

Some were curious, others skeptical.

A few seemed outright doubtful.

He was an unknown to many of them who were relatively new recruits to the army or who'd only ever heard about him from the stories, stepping into a position that Haddin had held for months now since the formation of the 2nd legion, but at the same time, most of the men present did not react and just stood Stockstill like they were stone statues.

These men were the ones who knew who the man standing before them was, that he was their King, and known within the army to be the strongest soldier within Romanus and possibly even the entire world, for he'd managed to kill not one but two warlords of Visigoth, while also forcing the great old man into a retreat during the initial invasion of the Lunan Kingdom.

Julius felt their stares, the weight of their silent judgment, but he did not falter.

He had started getting used to public speaking.

He raised a hand, calling for silence, though none had dared speak out.

When he finally spoke, his voice carried clear and strong over the gathered legion.

"Men of the 2nd Romanus Legion,"

he began, his tone steady and authoritative,

"I am Julius Aquitania Ceasar, and as of today, I am your commander. Many of you have served under General Haddin for months now, and I will not ask you to forget his leadership or the trust you placed in him. But today, I ask for you to also place trust in me."

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was quite a reaction from those who didn't know, while those who knew their liege lord smiled softly.

Julius let the silence stretch for little while, meeting the eyes of the men closest to him in the first rows before continuing.

"The enemy we are about to face is unlike any we've encountered before. The Greecians are desperate, having suffered one defeat after another at the hands of your brothers and sisters in the 1st, their leaders have raised forces cobbled together from whatever they can muster, having lost most if not all of their veterans and skilled fighters already in this war, and with your own valiant efforts fighting in the north. But make no mistake—desperation can be as deadly as discipline. They march not just to fight us but to destroy us, to drive us from these lands and claim victory against Romanus and our Eternal City, and once more descend like vultures onto our allies forcing them into slavery. And that is why we cannot afford to remain here, for here on these plains their numbers will overwhelm us."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the ranks, confusion and curiosity sparking among the soldiers.

Julius raised his voice slightly, commanding their attention once more.

"By the time the Greecian force arrives, this ground will be their battlefield—not ours. Today, we march to higher ground. There is a ridge three leagues to the west—a defensible position where we can control the terrain, force the enemy to come to us, and deny them any advantage. There, we will make our stand. There, we will crush them."

The murmurs stilled as the weight of his words sank in.

Julius could see the shift in their faces, the dawning realization that this was no ordinary speech.

He wasn't merely taking command—he was already making moves to secure their survival, their victory.

"Pack the camp,"

Julius ordered.

"We march within the hour. Every man will carry his weight—armour, weapons, and supplies. Leave nothing behind that the enemy might use against us."

He let his gaze sweep across the assembled soldiers, his voice firm but not harsh.

"And know this: I will not lead you into slaughter. I will lead you to victory. Together, we will show the Greecians what it means to face the might of another of Romanus's Legions!"

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, slowly, the legion's standard-bearer raised his voice, calling out a cheer that spread like wildfire through the ranks.

It wasn't the thunderous roar of a fully unified army like those he'd known of the first legion—not yet—but it was a start the undulating cheers of the second legion rang out a chorus in the morning light.

Julius allowed himself a small nod of satisfaction before stepping down from the platform, once more rejoining his own men upon the earth itself.

At the edge of the crowd, General Haddin waited, as Julius stepped from the stage and came closer the man's arms were crossed in front of his chest, but his expression was inscrutable, however even like that there was a glint of something in his eyes... approval, perhaps, or at least respect at the very least.

"You've got their attention, your majesty"

Haddin said as Julius approached.

"I'll need more than their attention,"

Julius replied.

"I'll need their loyalty, the fight ahead won't be able to be won without it."

Haddin grunted.

"You'll earn it, if you keep making calls like that. Higher ground is a smart move. Makes it harder for the Greecians to use their numbers against us, and even worse for them if they try to come at us with their phalanx's since we can rain missiles from above their lines."

Julius nodded, then lowered his voice.

"I'll need more information on those numbers before we face them. Send out additional scouts—small groups, no more than two or three in a group. I want to know their composition: how many infantry, how many cavalry, and whether they've brought siege equipment. And tell them to watch for any sign of supply lines or reinforcements."

Haddin scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"You think they've got more waiting in the wings?"

"I think desperate men are unpredictable,"

Julius said.

"If they've managed to rally fifty thousand already, it's possible there's more where that came from. We can't afford to be caught off guard."

The older general gave a sharp nod.

"I'll see it done. Anything else?"

"Yes,"

Julius said, his gaze shifting to the distant horizon where the first light of dawn was breaking over the hills.

"Send another rider to Yuri, and the first legion. Inform her of our change of position and our intent to make a stand. If the Greecians split their forces, I want her to know exactly where we'll be to come to our aid if it's needed. Coordination is our greatest weapon."

Haddin smirked faintly.

"You're not half as green as I thought you'd be your majesty. Seems your live combat training through the Lunan wars, served you well to be ready for this."

Julius didn't respond to the comment, but his lips twitched in the barest hint of a smile.

Turning back toward the camp, he watched as the soldiers began breaking down their tents and gathering their supplies with brisk efficiency.

The morning air buzzed with purpose, the legion moving as one under their new commander's orders, and the excitement his proclamation of a larger enemy force would bring in the next days battles.

The path ahead would not be easy.

The march would test their endurance, and the coming battle would test their mettle.

But as Julius looked out over his legion, he felt a spark of hope flicker in his chest.

They were strong, disciplined, and unyielding.

And under his command, they would be unstoppable.

As the first rays of sunlight glinted off his armour, Julius turned westward, toward the ridge that would be their fortress.

The storm was still coming—but they would be ready.