Chapter 293
Marcus advanced down the main avenue in his palanquin.
He was not riding in it merely to project the majesty of a ruler.
That was part of the reason, of course, but it was primarily so he could review documents while on the move.
Since handling complex issues in transit was difficult, he used his time in the palanquin mostly for personal letters and lighter topics.
“I believe I've looked through all the missives from Rome now.”
“Wasn't there an official document from the Senate included? That looked quite important.”
“It's nothing significant. It just asked me to resume monitoring the governors of the regions we recently returned to the Senate as direct senatorial provinces. It also mentioned that they will prioritize sending plebeian nobles rather than men from prestigious families to regions with a high risk of corruption.”
Spartacus, walking alongside the palanquin, widened his eyes in surprise.
“Isn't that an incredibly important matter?”
“We coordinated this a long time ago. It's a good thing from the perspective of centralizing power, but it gives me a headache just thinking about how much more I'll have to manage.”
Marcus paused and looked around the avenue.
The scene could only be described as overflowing with vitality.
The faces of the people who had gathered like clouds to watch Marcus pass by were bright, and their steps looked light.
Even though he had issued orders forbidding citizens from offering gifts every time he passed, many still tried to express their gratitude however they could.
He had once accepted a flower crown made by some children, only to have hundreds of floral wreaths tossed his way the next time.
It meant the people favored him that much, so it wasn't a bad feeling.
Marcopolis now gave off the distinct impression of a fully realized, proper city.
The food supply was stable, and merchants flocking from all over the world scattered coin as they passed through.
It filled him with pride to see the empty districts filling up and the population swelling with his own eyes every time he toured the city.
‘That said, the sheer variety of races really stands out.’
Since people had migrated to Marcopolis from all directions, its demographics were highly diverse.
Although the locals who already lived nearby formed the majority, their proportion never exceeded a certain level.
As the central city of the Eastern Province established by Marcus himself, there was an endless stream of Romans eager to live there.
Most of the local nobles from Antioch had already completed their relocation.
From the north came not only Greeks and Macedonians, but even merchants from Gaul and Germania who, having somehow heard the rumors, sought to settle here.
From the south flocked Arabians and Jews, and even indigenous people with deep roots in Egypt were visible.
Marcus suddenly recalled how Hae Dae-seong, who had come from Buyeo, looked on with eyes wide as saucers in sheer astonishment at the city's diverse populace.
In the future, its identity as an international metropolis would only become more pronounced, never fade.
In the distant future, he might even see people from East Asia putting down roots and living here.
‘A city where multiple ethnicities live in harmony... It's not bad.’
If they could gather exceptional talent from all over the world, it would serve as the ultimate driving force for development.
Perhaps Rome might develop into something similar to the United States from his original history.
To achieve that, above all else, a solid foundation needed to be laid.
By all accounts, this was a duty Marcus had to shoulder as the one forging the framework for a new Rome.
“Spartacus, what do you think when you look at this city? I'd like to hear your honest impression.”
“Asking what I think is a bit too abstract.”
“Then I'll ask more specifically. What do you feel when you see this multitude of diverse people walking the streets?”
“When I first saw them, I thought about how incredibly diverse the people of the world are... and how fascinating it is. I prided myself on having scoured every corner of the world while traveling through countless regions, but I realized that wasn't everything.”
Spartacus's eyes were fixed on some pitch-black-skinned children who had supposedly come all the way up from distant southern Africa.
“Do you find those children fascinating?”
“Of course I knew there were people with skin as black as night. I heard many stories from those who fought in the war against the Kingdom of Kush. If I rack my memory, I think I might have brushed past a few of them before, but seeing so many up close naturally feels completely different.”
“I heard the Kingdom of Kush even had Black pharaohs. And for people who have lived in that region their whole lives, our appearance probably looks just as bizarre.”
“I suppose that could be true. Come to think of it, when we first met the people of Han, they seemed to view us with the same novelty. But why do people's appearances vary so drastically depending on where they live? Up in Britannia, there are people with skin as white as snow, whereas if you go south, the exact opposite—pitch-black people—make up the majority...”
It wasn't just Spartacus; the vast majority of Romans likely held similar thoughts.
If it stopped at mere curiosity, it would be fine, but it could easily slip into justifying discrimination.
Once they drew a line and categorized them as fundamentally different beings, it became easy to enslave and abuse them without a pang of conscience.
In truth, it was impossible to avoid conflict when people from countless cultures congregated in one place.
Reports were already reaching Marcus that clashes over trivial matters were breaking out quite frequently.
“Spartacus, what about you? If someone of an entirely different race became your subordinate, your superior, or your colleague, could you get along well with them?”
“Of course. We are comrades risking our lives together; what does a mere difference in appearance matter?”
“I see. So a soldier's mindset is more open in this regard.”
Even the United States, a multiracial nation in his original history, had been plagued by extreme racial discrimination well into the twentieth century.
However, Asian immigrants or Black soldiers who achieved merit in the military could at least receive slightly better treatment.
In fact, the current Rome was far better off than that era.
It was only natural, as it was an era before discriminatory systems and cultures had completely solidified.
‘In the long run, achieving racial harmony will be the only way to continuously maintain the nation's competitiveness. If racial conflicts worsen, there's no telling that it won't lead to a fractured empire.’
From that perspective, it was rather fortunate that they were in the ancient era, rather than the post-medieval period when civilizations had already interacted and clashed over a long period.
How they set this initial precedent would drastically alter Rome's future.
If Marcus firmly established the state's policies now, future rulers wouldn't be able to easily overturn them.
“Spartacus, it goes without saying, but the citizens I rule are the most precious thing to me.”
“It is the same for me. My men come first.”
“Exactly. Therefore, wouldn't it be right to bestow unsparing mercy and prosperity upon those who come under my rule? They, too, now belong to Rome.”
“You are completely right.”
“Whatever the color of their skin or wherever they hail from, such matters aren't important in the slightest. The absolute highest priority to be respected must be their Roman citizenship.”
“If that weren't the case, I, a former gladiator slave from Thrace, could never have risen to a position like this.”
Many key positions in present-day Rome were held by capable individuals from the provinces.
This trend was particularly pronounced in the Eastern Province, as opposed to Capital Rome.
Just looking at Spartacus and Surenas—often called Marcus's two wings—neither was a native-born Roman.
One was a captured slave from Thrace, and the other was a noble from fallen Parthia.
The reason so many ethnicities flocked to Marcopolis might well have been due to the very existence of those two.
They saw hope that if they could only prove their abilities, they too could climb to the highest ranks.
“So I must ensure their expectations don't turn into despair. I must make it so they never once think their past lives were better. Isn't it the duty entrusted to me, as the ruler of this nation, to gift them a world where they will want to be called Romans forever?”
“It is a truly noble thought.”
“It doesn't matter if they are from Gaul, Germania, Britannia, or Arabia. Everyone must be united, sharing the single identity of Rome.”
“You are more than capable of forging such a nation, Lord Marcus. My very existence proves it.”
Someday, it would be recorded in history like this:
That Marcus and Rome were the prime example demonstrating that the world's diverse races could be bound together in peace.
‘If that happens, a significant number of the countless tragedies that existed in history will be reduced.’
Of course, prioritizing one's own national interests was inevitable, so it was entirely possible that Rome would still exploit neighboring nations.
However, that much was practically an inevitability in the long flow of history.
Unless Marcus was a truly omnipotent god, he couldn't stop it—nor did he have the desire to.
It was enough simply to prevent the foolish act of eroding their own national power from within.
Rome's power had already grown to a point where comparing it to any other nation in the world was meaningless.
For the time being, it was obvious that as time passed, the gap would only widen into a gulf between heaven and earth, rather than narrow.
Even Marcus struggled to imagine just how immense the disparity would become a few decades from now.
If this Rome were ever to fall, the only possible cause would be internal strife.
And lamentably, in his original history, Rome had indeed squandered its national strength through countless civil wars.
The Rome of today was transforming into a completely different state from the Rome of that timeline, but that didn't guarantee civil wars wouldn't break out.
In fact, with so many cultures blending together, he had to assume the risk of internal conflict was even greater and prepare accordingly.
‘To manage that, I will undoubtedly need to firmly establish the imperial family's prestige for the time being.’
If it was a policy set by an absolute entity, the people of this era had a strong tendency to obey without complaint.
He just needed it to last until that mindset settled into a universal principle of behavior.
‘But changing perceptions really isn't that easy.’
The contents of the report Octavian had sent suddenly flashed through Marcus's mind.
It was only natural that there was a buzz of curiosity over who would wed the women of the House of Julius-Licinius.
However, it was problematic for people to perceive it as someone “taking” them away.
This wasn't an issue limited to the women.
The descendants of the imperial family chose their own partners, and being chosen had to be accepted as a tremendous honor.
He couldn't afford to overlook a single trivial detail.
Fortunately, Octavian seemed to recognize this as well, having jotted down his own thoughts at the end of the letter.
Deciding to leave that matter in Octavian's hands, Marcus pondered a slightly different issue.
Namely, the matter of titles.
Right now, the people of the East considered him the King of Kings, calling him Shahanshah, but this wasn't sufficient as a title denoting the ruler of Rome.
A word signifying a nation's supreme power was never something to be taken lightly.
It was a vital symbol capable of projecting the nation's pride, ideology, and influence all at once.
‘That's one more task to assign to Octavian.’
Spreading a piece of paper in his palanquin, Marcus's hand moved faster and faster as he wrote something down.
At last, the time was ripe to declare a uniquely Roman title—one that transcended the pharaoh of Egypt, the Shahanshah of Persia, and the son of heaven of China.