Chapter 15: The Hero Reborn

A day had passed since the departure of the noblewomen from the camp.

That afternoon, the Campanian sun hung high in the sky, its heat like an invisible hammer. Ulixes kept his promise to the Third Cohort. Mandatory swimming sessions were now part of their routine. He led them to a clear, calm bend in the river, far from the dusty heart of the camp.

The atmosphere felt a little lighter. The soldiers, previously tense from relentless training, now laughed and splashed each other like children. They washed the sweat and grime from their bodies, their tired muscles relaxing in the cool water. Ulixes stood at the water's edge, arms crossed, watching them with a keen eye but allowing them this brief moment. Discipline was crucial, but so was morale.

Centurion Flamma approached, standing beside him. The old soldier looked at his men with an unreadable expression.

"They look more alive, Praefectus," Flamma said, his voice hoarse. "It's been a long time since I heard them laugh."

"A tired soldier is a slow soldier, Centurion," Ulixes replied, his eyes still scanning the crowd. "A rested muscle is a re-sharpened weapon. Besides, I refuse to lead a legion that smells like a pigsty."

Flamma chuckled, a rare, gruff sound. "Good point, Dominus." He paused, then added, "They'll follow you anywhere. After what you did in the Sila Forest, they know you won't waste their lives."

Ulixes did not reply. Such praise meant little to him. What mattered were results. Efficiency. Victory. He waved a hand. "Enough. Have them resume defensive training at the riverbank. I want them accustomed to moving on wet, slippery ground."

As Flamma barked orders and the soldiers reluctantly began to form ranks on the riverbank, Ulixes stepped into the water. A refreshing coolness immediately spread through his legs, alleviating the day's heat. He walked deeper until the water reached his waist, then sat on a large submerged rock, letting the river's current massage his tired muscles.

He looked down, into the clear water that refracted the sunlight. And that's when he saw it.

On the inner side of his right heel, just above the prominent bone, there was a mark. Not a scar. Not dirt. It was a birthmark. Its shape was strange and very specific: three overlapping curved lines, like an ancient symbol for ocean waves. Its color was slightly paler than the rest of his skin, almost imperceptible unless closely examined.

His heart stopped for a full second.

His trembling hand moved down into the water, his fingers touching the mark. His skin felt the same as the rest of his body. But it was there. Real. His mind raced frantically, trying to access every memory from his previous life. Thomas Vance. He remembered every detail of his body with the self-awareness of a narcissistic modern man. He knew exactly where every mole was. He knew there was no birthmark on his heel. Never had been.

A chill that did not come from the river water ran down his spine. The realization hit him with the force of a war axe. This was not his body. Not his original body. His physique might be identical down to the last hair, but this was another body. A duplicate. A vessel he had entered. Unanswered questions spun in his mind. Who was the original owner of this body? Why was he here?

As he continued to stare at the wave-shaped birthmark, captivated by the mystery of his own existence, a familiar transparent blue light shone before his eyes, cutting through his reverie. The text that appeared was different from usual.

{Condition met: Ancient Bloodline detected…}

{Condition met: Elemental catalyst (Water) detected…}

{Bloodline Awakening System triggered…}

Ulixes felt an alarm blare in his mind. This was not something he could control.

{Scanning Essence reserves… Found: 153 Essence.}

{Initiating awakening process requires all available resources.}

{Consuming 153 Essence to begin awakening process…}

Before he could even think to resist, the process began.

It didn't feel like a cold information download as when he gained Knowledge. This was a brutal physical sensation. An overwhelming heat exploded from his heel, coursing through his veins like molten lava. He gritted his teeth, a suppressed growl escaping his throat. His muscles spasmed violently in the water, as if being pulled and torn from within. He could feel his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest. His skin felt like it was burning from the inside out. This was torture. This was a re-forging.

Beneath the water's surface, the wave-shaped birthmark glowed with a faint golden light for a few moments, invisible to everyone but him, before finally fading. The intense pain reached its peak, then suddenly vanished, replaced by a refreshing surge of power that flooded every cell in his body.

He opened his eyes, his breath ragged, his blurred vision slowly coming into focus. The text before him now displayed a final message.

{Bloodline Talent successfully awakened: [Heroic Template: Achilles (Early Stage)]} {Warning: System experienced a power surge due to forced awakening. Entering cooldown period. All non-passive system functions temporarily deactivated.}

The blue light faded, leaving him in silence. He felt that silence in a new way. He could no longer feel the connection to his Physical Surge or Minor Healing abilities. He was alone.

Yet, his body felt… different. He rose to his feet in the water. His movements felt lighter, stronger. He clenched his fist. Solid, palpable power resonated in his muscles, a strength he had never felt before. This was not a fleeting borrowed power from the system. This was his. Permanently.

He stepped out of the river, every movement now possessing a new efficiency and grace. Droplets of water fell from his body, which now felt as if sculpted from stone.

Flamma, seeing him, frowned. "Dominus? Are you well?"

Ulixes did not answer. He stared at his clenched hand, then at the empty training ground. His mind was no longer filled with existential questions. There was only one thought. One need.

He had to know. He had to test the limits of the hero now living in his blood.

"Flamma," he said, his voice deeper, more resonant than before. "Gather the men. Training is not over."

Ulixes walked back to the dry training ground, each step feeling different. There was a new efficiency in his movements, a perfect balance he had never possessed before. His body, which had been merely a tool he controlled, now felt like an extension of his will, every muscle and sinew connected in a silent symphony of strength. The Third Cohort soldiers, having just emerged from the river, reluctantly formed ranks, staring at their commander with confused expressions.

Centurion Flamma approached him, his usually stern face now showing an entirely new expression: a mixture of disbelief, fear, and absolute awe. He stopped before Ulixes, then with a sharp, respectful gesture, he slammed his fist against his chest. A salute from a true soldier to his commander.

Ulixes looked at his troops, then at his own hands, which trembled slightly from adrenaline. He had his answer. He now understood the power he wielded. He was no longer just Ulixes the tactician. He was the embodiment of a war hero. He was Achilles reborn amidst the Roman legions.

"I have never felt better, Centurion," Ulixes replied, his voice deeper, more resonant in the open air. He stopped in the center of the field, looking directly into Flamma's eyes. "Choose your best soldiers. I want to spar. Now."

Flamma frowned. This was highly unusual. Their Praefectus was not the type of commander who spent time on one-on-one sparring. He was a strategist, not a showman. "Dominus?"

"You heard my order," Ulixes said. There was no anger in his voice, only a newfound, absolute authority.

Flamma sighed, then turned to face his troops. He pointed to a large, scarred man, a veteran of northern border wars named Corvus. "Corvus! Come forward! You will spar against the Praefectus!"

Corvus stepped forward, a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, his chin held high. He was the best fighter in the cohort, and everyone knew it. He took a wooden practice sword and a shield. Ulixes only took a wooden sword. He didn't need a shield.

The other soldiers formed a large circle, whispering among themselves. This was an unexpected spectacle.

Corvus assumed his standard stance, shield forward, sword ready at his side. He roared and charged, a typical attack relying on strength and momentum.

This is where Ulixes felt the first difference. The world around him seemed to slow down for a fraction of a second. He could clearly see how the muscles in Corvus's shoulder tensed before he swung his sword. He could see the angle of the swing, and where it would end.

Without thinking, his body moved. He did not retreat. He executed a quick, fluid side-step, moving laterally like a ghost. Corvus's wooden sword cut through empty air where Ulixes had stood moments ago. The momentum of his attack caused Corvus to lose his balance slightly.

Before Corvus could recover, Ulixes was already beside him. He did not swing his sword with full force. He simply twisted his wrist, using the tip of his wooden sword to strike the back of Corvus's knee with a loud, resounding THWACK.

Corvus's leg instantly buckled. The large man fell to one knee with a grunt of surprise. The tip of Ulixes's wooden sword was now coldly pressed against his neck.

Complete silence fell over the field. The fight ended in less than five seconds.

Corvus stared at him in disbelief. Flamma gaped.

"Again," Ulixes said, retracting his sword. "This time, bring your friends."

He pointed to two other soldiers known for their speed. The two soldiers exchanged glances, hesitating for a moment before stepping forward. Now, three men surrounded Ulixes.

They did not attack simultaneously. One tried to distract him from the front, while the other two tried to attack from the sides. Ulixes remained calm in the center, his head constantly moving, his eyes scanning all three. When the frontal attacker charged, Ulixes again dodged with the same fluid motion. But this time, as he moved aside, he used his momentum to kick the shield of one of the flank attackers.

The man stumbled backward, his formation broken. Ulixes wasted no time. He lunged into the gap he had just created, his wooden sword moving in a series of swift, disabling strikes. One blow to the third attacker's wrist, making him drop his sword. Another blow to the ribs of the stumbling man, making him double over in pain.

He turned just in time to parry an attack from the first attacker, then spun his body and used the pommel of his sword to strike the man's jaw. Three men. Down.

"Five men," Ulixes said, his breathing still even.

The previously whispering soldiers were now silent, their eyes filled with a mixture of awe and fear.

Five soldiers stepped forward. This time they were more cautious. They surrounded him tightly, their shields overlapping, trying to limit his movement.

Ulixes smiled faintly for the first time. He let them approach. When they were close enough, he did something utterly unexpected. He dropped his wooden sword.

He lunged forward into the gap between two shields. Before the soldiers could react, he slammed his shoulder into their shields with surprising force. The two men were thrown backward as if struck by a bull. He entered the gap.

His hands moved with blurred speed. He punched a soldier's throat, making him choke. He elbowed another's face. He caught an arm trying to stab him, twisted it, and used the soldier's body as a living shield to block an attack from his comrade. In a few seconds of brutal, efficient chaos, all five soldiers lay on the ground, groaning in pain.

Ulixes stood among them, his chest rising and falling slightly. He felt adrenaline coursing through him, an exhilarating sensation. This power… it felt like breathing for the first time.

He picked up his wooden sword again. His gaze was now fixed on the rest of his frozen troops.

"Ten men," he commanded.

Flamma stepped forward, his face pale. "Dominus," he said hoarsely. "This is madness. They could injure you."

"They can try, Centurion," Ulixes retorted, his eyes glinted with a new light, a certainty that unsettled those who met his gaze. "Ten men. Now."

Ten soldiers stepped forward hesitantly, forming a loose semicircle before Ulixes. They were veterans of border battles, men accustomed to violence, yet they looked at each other, their earlier resolve now gone. They had just seen their commander incapacitate five men without breaking a sweat.

Ulixes gave them no time to think. He lunged forward, not towards the center, but towards the edge of their formation, forcing them to move and break their imperfectly formed encirclement.

The fight was a whirlwind of dust and clashing wood. Ulixes moved among them like the wind. He no longer merely dodged; he now deflected attacks, using his opponents' force to create openings. A sword swung at his head; he ducked beneath it, and as the man lost balance, a quick, powerful side-kick from Ulixes struck his ribs, sending him flying sideways, coughing.

Another soldier tried to stab him from behind. His 360-degree awareness talent, though now operating without a system interface, felt like pure instinct. He spun just in time, caught the man's wrist, twisted it with bone-shattering force that made the man shriek, and used his body as a temporary shield. The two other soldiers who hesitated to attack their own comrade gave him the split second he needed. He shoved his living shield towards them and leaped back, creating distance again.

His stamina felt limitless. His heart pounded, pumping blood that felt hot and energetic throughout his body. He felt no fatigue. He felt alive. One by one, he incapacitated them. Not with lethal blows, but with the precision of a brutal surgeon. A pommel strike to the temple. An improvised shield bash to the knee. An arm lock ending with the sound of bone.

In less than a minute, all ten soldiers lay on the ground, groaning in pain or too stunned to move. Ulixes stood in their midst, his breathing slightly heavier, but his body still erect. He felt a few bruises beginning to form on his arms and back, where some blows had managed to land. The pain felt distant, merely a faint reminder that he was still human.

He looked at the rest of his troops, who now stared at him with near-religious awe. He raised his wooden sword.

"Twenty men," he commanded, his voice echoing across the silent field. "Form a testudo. Hold me."

This time, there was no hesitation. Twenty of their best soldiers, including a recovered Corvus, stepped forward. At Flamma's command, they formed a tight shield wall. THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The sound of their large shields locking together was like the closing of a fortress gate. They created an unmoving human fortress, their wooden sword tips protruding from narrow gaps like hedgehog spines.

Ulixes looked at the fortress. This was no longer a test of strength or speed. This was a test of intellect against discipline. Ulixes's mind against Rome's might.

He began to move, circling the formation slowly. He was a wolf stalking a giant tortoise. He could see the tense eyes of the soldiers following him from behind the shield gaps. He could hear their heavy, concentrated breaths. He was looking for one thing. A weakness. An opening.

He feigned an attack to the left side, slamming his sword hard against a shield, making the soldiers on that side shift their weight slightly to brace for the impact. As he expected, the shield wall on the right side loosened slightly as their focus divided.

That was the moment.

He didn't run. He exploded. He moved with a speed that seemed to defy the eye, he darted to the right side of the formation. Just before reaching the shield wall, he leaped. Not an ordinary leap, but a Deadly Leap powered by every ounce of strength from his new template. He twisted his body in mid-air, using all his momentum and body weight, and slammed his shoulder into one point: the edge of a shield at the end of the formation.

CRACK!

The sound of cracking wood was horrifying. The soldier holding the shield was thrown backward, colliding with his comrade, and the balance of the entire line wavered for a split second.

A gap had opened.

Before they could close it, Ulixes was inside.

Within the narrow, suffocating confines of the formation, their shields and long swords became useless. Chaos erupted. Ulixes moved like a god of death in cramped quarters. An elbow to the jaw. A knee strike to the stomach. He snatched a shield from a weakened hand and used it to bash another soldier's face. They pushed and trampled each other, their once-perfect formation now shattered from within.

One by one, they fell, not from fatal wounds, but from quick, disabling attacks in a space that prevented them from fighting properly.

Finally, only Ulixes remained standing amidst a sea of groaning bodies. He was breathing heavily, sweat drenching him, dust clinging to his skin. He looked at his twenty "defeated" soldiers.

Complete silence descended upon the camp. The entire Third Cohort, including officers from other cohorts who had come to see the commotion, stared at the scene with gaping mouths. They had just witnessed something that should have been impossible.

Flamma walked closer, his usually stern face now showing an entirely new expression: a mixture of disbelief, fear, and absolute awe. He stopped before Ulixes, then with a sharp, respectful gesture, he slammed his fist into his chest. A salute from a true soldier to his commander.

Ulixes looked at his troops, then at his own hands, which trembled slightly from adrenaline. He had his answer. He now understood the power he held. He was no longer just Ulixes the tactician. He was the embodiment of a war hero. He was Achilles reborn amidst the legions of Rome.

Author's thoughts: "As we discussed, and with some suggestions for building mythology for the conquered territories to strengthen the MC's power there, I think this is the solution. What do you all think? Is this acceptable? The MC's power is at the peak of humanity, just below demigod level."