Chapter 20: The Gaulish Reckoning

The drums started at midnight.

Deep, resonant booms echoed from the Janiculum Hill, shaking birds from their roosts. By dawn, the source was clear: three hundred Gaulish warriors stood outside Rome's gates, their bare chests painted with woad spirals, their boots crushing the morning dew into the dirt. At their center, chieftain Vercingetorix the Younger balanced a football on the tip of his sword.

"Rematch," he bellowed. "Our rules. Our land."

The system's translation was blunt:

[Ultimatum Received:

- Location: Gaulish sacred grove (neutral territory)

- Rules: Brennus Variant (50 players, mead-fueled, no referees)

- Stakes:

- If Roma wins, Gaul adopts standard league rules

- If Gaul wins, they claim Campum Ludus as tribute

Threat Level: This is either cultural exchange or war]

Lucius turned to Nikias. "Tell me again why we agreed to this?"

The Greek, already pale, chugged the last of his hangover cure. "Because Vulso *arm-wrestled* their champion and lost."

Two days' march north brought them to a clearing where ancient oaks formed a natural stadium. The "pitch" was a sloping meadow dotted with standing stones for goalposts. The "ball" was a stitched boar's bladder soaked in honey-mead.

The system's environmental scan flashed warnings:

[Playing Conditions:

- Slope gradient: 22 degrees (advantage: downhill team)

- Mead-ball absorption rate: 70% through skin contact

- Local wildlife: Very interested (boars, wolves, one irritable druid)]

Vulso cracked his neck. "I like these rules."

The Vestal acolyte, the only woman allowed at the sacred site, murmured, "I'll prepare the antidotes."

The match began with a druid's horn blast.

What followed wasn't football—it was a small battle with passing.

- Minute 5: A Gaul headbutted the ball (and Nikias) into a bramble patch.

- Minute 18: Vulso tackled two warriors at once, using a third as a springboard.

- Halftime: The score was 7-6 to Gaul, and Lucius was definitely intoxicated from the mead-ball.

The system's tips were increasingly incoherent:

[Tactical Suggestion:

- More passing? Maybe?

- Alternatively: Worship oak tree (seems friendly)]

Then—the druid's curse.

The old man, furious at the noise, hurled a handful of mushrooms into the mead barrel.

The system identified it instantly:

[Psilocybin Contamination:

- Hallucination probability: 80%

- Coordination: -50%

- Spiritual Epiphanies: Likely]

The world melted.

- The ball became a flying boar that Nikias swore was whispering plays to him.

- The Gaulish chieftain split into three copies, all dribbling in unison.

- The Vestal acolyte *glowed like a minor deity (which Lucius wasn't entirely sure was the mushrooms).

Somehow, amid the chaos:

- Vulso scored by drop-kicking the "boar" through a standing stone.

- Nikias convinced two Gauls they were butterflies, leaving the net open.

- Lucius negotiated with a talking wolf for fair play.

Final score: 12-11 to FC Roma.

The Gauls, too bewildered to protest, declared it "*a sign from the gods*" and passed out.

Nero's grand project was unveiled the following week—a rebuilt Colosseum with:

- Aqueduct-fed moats (for firefighting)

- Retractable silk canopies (waterproofed with fish glue)

- Lion-shaped water cannons (to "enhance drama")

The inaugural match—FC Roma vs. Senatorial Select—lasted seven minutes before disaster struck.

The emperor, eager to test the cannons, flooded the pitch.

Players floundered in waist-deep water as the ball floated mockingly out of reach. The system's alert was drenched:

[Structural Failure:

- Drainage system: Clogged (by pre-game rose petals)

- Player morale: Sinking

- Nero's amusement: Unsinkable]

The Vestal acolyte, soaked to the bone, declared it "an omen of Neptune's displeasure"—which Nero loved.

"Aquatic Football!" he cried, composing a ballad on the spot.

The girl had been *too* quiet.

Lucius found her in the beast pens, whispering to the remaining fire-lions. Her hands no longer bandaged, her hair now streaked with gold like a lion's mane.

"You're training them," he said.

She didn't deny it. "To retrieve balls, not burn people." She tossed a leather sphere; a lion cub pounced, gently carrying it back. "Domitia's legacy doesn't have to be death."

The system's recalibration was cautious:

[Claudia's Loyalty:

- 60% genuine reform

- 30% long-game revenge

- 10% lion-induced Stockholm syndrome]

Then she dropped the truth:

"The Pax isn't gone. They've moved to Alexandria."

The scroll arrived by merchant ship, sealed with a familiar emblem—a football wrapped in chains.

Inside:

"The Nile League welcomes all… for a price."

The system's geopolitical scan exploded:

[Alexandrian Football Corruption:

- Slave teams forced to play for freedom

- Games fixed by Library scholars (statistical models)

- Greek fire production: Ongoing

Recommended Action:

1. Infiltrate

2. Sabotage

3. Steal their best players]

Nikias, reading over Lucius's shoulder, whistled. "Road trip?"

At dusk, the beast vanished.

It left only:

- A trail of crushed grapes leading to the Tiber

- A shredded Pax banner

- One very confused lion cub

The Vestal acolyte interpreted the signs: "It's gone to *find* something."

The system agreed:

[Ursine Mission:

- Objective: Unknown (possibly revenge)

- Success Probability: Uncalculable

- Threat to Alexandria: Moderate to Severe]

Rome buzzed with uneasy triumph.

The Gaulish alliance held. Nero's aquatic folly amused the masses. Claudia's lions drew crowds.

But beneath it:

- Decimus was spotted boarding a ship east.

- The bear was last seen gnawing on a Greek fire barrel.

- Alexandria loomed.

Lucius stood atop the Campum Ludus, watching the sunset paint the Tiber red.

The system's final alert was inevitable:

[Next Phase:

- Target: Alexandria

- Mission: Liberation

- Complication:

- The bear arrives first

- The lions miss Claudia

- Nero invites himself]

Somewhere, a drumbeat echoed—fainter now, but relentless.