Imperator: Resurrection of an Empire

The borderlands of the new Romanus Empire were changing.

What had once been little more than shifting terrain marked by patrols and loosely claimed territory was now taking solid form — stone by stone, post by post.

Julius rode at the head of his vanguard along the fresh eastern line, the border wall a gleaming scar of control dividing his empire from the Principality.

The wind cut sharply along the ridgeline where they paused, dust trailing from the hooves of their cavalry.

From this vantage, Julius could see the beginnings of what he had envisioned days ago now realized in stone and iron.

More than a wall.

A statement.

A severing.

He dismounted slowly, surveying the tower before him as a team of legion engineers finished securing the final gatehouse lever.

This marked the final gateway out of the principality was now closed, and all exits would be heavily monitored. Those from the 'contested zone' would be free to leave if they were proven to be original carthaginian citizens, they would be allowed through but should they be anything else their leave would not be permitted.

Julius turned to his map and waved a hand across it, opening the System overlay before his eyes.

Running his eyes over the entire border and looking at the new world marvel he had just finished creating, the second great wall of the this world.

With his latest task finally finished

He allowed himself a breath.

Just one.

Before his eyes flickered over to the developing situation as evident by the population density reading.

outside the larger cities a stream of personal was heading away from the cities.

The religious migration had begun in earnest as his own forces had spread the impending word of the future excommunication of his nation.

Something that was happening a whole day ahead of when it would actually come into effect.

Julius' lips curled into a thoughtful line.

"Faster than expected," he murmured.

Beside him, one of his adjutants — Tribune Aurelius — tilted his head.

"Your Majesty?"

"They're already leaving. With only words."

"People fear the divine, sire,"

Aurelius replied softly.

"And they fear being seen as traitors to the Holy See and bringing about divine retribution by their god as well."

"They should be more afraid of what comes after,"

Julius muttered, turning away to remount his steed again.

"But no matter. Let them walk. Let them leave of their own will."

He dug his heels in.

"We will not stop them."

~

For the next three days, Julius continued his ride looping north, bringing the word of the 'one true god' to the villages and towns they came across while ultimately heading for the meetup point where he would reuinte with his future empress Serena after she made her own journey through the cities and towns doing the same.

Every town he passed saw fresh faces waiting by the roads.

Long lines of families with loaded carts, some weeping, some silent, waiting to be escorted or waved through the newly named Porta Libera — the Gate of Liberation, these exiles or faithful thought it was funny for their new ruler to name the gates that would be granting them salvation from his own fate, never coming to understand these would mean the reverse and only those who crossed into Romanus through these gates would receive salvation, the legionaires posted at the series of gates inwardly referred to the gates people left through as Damnation gates leading one into hell not heaven.

But through it all.

Not a sword had been raised.

Not an order had been shouted.

And still, the world was moving forward, with the most peaceful excommunication of an entire nation in possibly all of human history.

~

On the third evening, Julius made camp in a newly constructed waystation within one of cities newest barracks — a place built not for soldiers, but for the temporary lodging of government travellers and the like giving them a safe place of rest and food with proper facilities for tending to their horses while providing protection against those who might try to hinder their movement.

Inside the stone tower, warmed by a low brazier, he sat alone his eyes pouring over the system screens creating mental reports as he went.

He read quickly, as always comparing the status result pre-movement to now.

[Immigration Influx] ▶ 2,891 Principality citizens requested transfer to Romanus citizenship today.

[Deportation] ▶ Departing Faithful: 24,655

The numbers were to be expected though he honestly was surprised that the number of those leaving wasn't higher, considering that Carthage had a population of well over a million, and yet the Principalities faithful had only penetrated less than 1% of the population even after all these years?

Or was it that not all the 'faithful' actively followed the rumor, or took the Empires excommunication to heart.

Turning off the system screen he leaned back against the cold wall.

This was no war of swords and flames.

This was a war of maps.

Of minds.

Of movement.

This was the war he preferred at least in times of peace.

~

Far to the south, the coastal cities began seeing the first ships of the Southern Patrol Fleet — naval craft bearing no national flags but flying red-and-gold sails and striped hulls.

Pirates in name.

Imperial sentries in truth.

By Julius' order, these vessels would scour the southern coasts of the Principality for merchant ships or anything close to someone trying to leave the nation, while fisheries were not hampered, julius may be embargoing and blockading the nation but he was not about to cause the nations peoples to starve to death.

But should any vessel attempt to land on Romanus shores from the south or east without imperial seal?

they would be detained to be inspected.

Turned back if they were found to be regular citizens who'd lost their way or run into issue whilst at sea.

Or sunk, if necessary should they resist or be found to actually be agents of the Papal crown.

This was not cruelty.

It was sovereignty.

~

Back at the border forts, a small procession approached the newly raised gates.

A delegation from one of the Principality's closer towns — half-holy men, half-local lords, their garments dusty and faces creased with fatigue.

Their leader, an aging bishop with heavy silver rings, raised a scroll and offered it to the Centurion in command.

A letter of intent.

To begin discussions of trade with the Empire.

To request that the wall remain open for neutral commerce.

Julius was not there to answer personally.

But he read the copy delivered to him hours later with a wry smile knowing that the Pope had yet to make a decision, but the as of yet impending news was beginning to spread to their lands only from Romanus instead.

His forces while friendly, gently refused the delegations invitation, and stated that the border was closed due to a break down between their nations rulers, and that as a result of the Pope decision to excommunicate the whole of the Empire they would not be allowing any peaceful immigration.

The delegates were beyond shocked to hear this candid response from the centurion and had to turn back, though questions of why they had to learn this all from 'heathens' rather than their own divine voice had shaken their hearts.

Julius seeing the propaganda beginning to spread, chuckled in the night.

"They will learn,"

he said.

"They do not get to preach of exile while begging entry into the promised land."

...

...

"Let them send more letters until they form a mountain. Let them beg on their knees forsaking their god whose words they've twisted to fit their own desires."

~

By the weeks end the gates were locked, and this time for good.

The new territorial wall was fully manned by Romanus and kept a vigile watch on the horizon towards the principality, while the rest of Carthage simply shifted slightly to make up for the missing bodies though industry wasn't affected since most of those who'd chosen to leave were the visiting clergy and that only meant less criers on the streets, or open prayer sessions in the squares.

Ultimately the missing clergy were not all together missed in the land but rather celebrated since those who were not open to converting finally were able to just go about their days without being pestered.