Side Story 1 [END]
Side Story.
A new holiday was established in Rome.
It was a festival to commemorate Marcus officially receiving the title of Augustus.
In the Colosseum, named in Marcus's honor, matches of an unprecedented caliber were underway.
These games were held to honor Spartacus, who was stepping down from the Senate due to his declining health.
A Senate seat was traditionally a lifelong appointment, but ever since Caesar's departure, a graceful retirement had become the established custom.
Marcus had organized the event for Spartacus himself.
“Those gladiators... are they all from Thrace?”
Though his body had aged, Spartacus's eyes remained as sharp as ever.
Having always kept a close watch on fighters from his homeland, he easily recognized their origins.
“Yes. They're quite skilled, aren't they? When they heard you were retiring for good, they begged me to let them fight.”
Since Spartacus, the demand for Thracian gladiators had skyrocketed.
They thrived everywhere from the East to Rome itself, reigning as the undisputed elite of the gladiatorial arena.
Naturally, they were no longer slaves; they enjoyed a popularity comparable to modern sports stars.
Spartacus watched the fighters bow toward them as the match ended.
As always, the audience's feverish cheers and applause washed over them.
He suddenly looked down at his own hands.
He had put down his sword years ago due to his failing health.
His body, which had remained like steel well into his later years, now struggled just to make the trip between his home and the Senate.
He could not shake the feeling that his time was drawing near.
He was not afraid.
From the day he first gripped a sword, he had considered death as natural as the air he breathed.
What terrified him most was not dying, but ending his life meaninglessly and leaving nothing behind.
Failing to keep the promise he had made to the friend he struck down with his own hands terrified him more than an enemy army of tens of thousands.
But he had no lingering regrets now.
His long, long life flashed before his eyes.
The strange, incomprehensible rich boy from their first meeting had become the Emperor of Rome.
The slave girl from his homeland, whose happiness he had secretly prayed for, had grown into the most elegant of noblewomen.
‘He must be doing well, too...’
His disciple—the single remaining worry of his later years—had become so splendidly independent that he no longer needed Spartacus's help.
In the distant East, it was said there was no one left who did not know his name.
This entire magnificent journey had begun the moment he chose to follow Marcus.
Feeling Spartacus's gaze, Marcus slowly turned to look at him.
“What is it? Are you feeling unwell? Should I call for someone?”
“No. It's just... I was thinking my choice wasn't wrong after all.”
“Why bring that up now?”
He was right.
It was a belated sentiment, but having such thoughts at all was a sign that the end was approaching.
Spartacus was an idol to all gladiators and slaves.
Thanks to him, countless people had escaped despair and earned the right to be treated as human beings.
Honoring his friend's dying wish, Spartacus had marched forward, carrying the hopes of the countless comrades who had laid down their lives in resistance.
He went beyond merely bearing their hopes; he became hope itself.
‘Yes, I suppose I did my best.’
Closing his eyes, Spartacus listened to the roaring cheers of the crowd and smiled in contentment.
‘I've fulfilled my duty, haven't I, Crixus? Can I go meet you with a smile now?’
Whether it was a simple hallucination or an echo of the soul rising from within his heart...
A voice from memories so distant they had blurred whispered to him on the wind.
‘Come with your head held high. You've worked hard, my friend.’
*
As time flowed by, the heroes who had ushered in Rome's golden age passed away one by one.
Marcus was there for the final moments of both his father, Crassus, and his father-in-law, Caesar.
Caesar never lost his majestic presence, even up to his very last breath.
After bestowing his blessing upon Sophia and Trajan, he looked warmly at Marcus and Julia before bursting into hearty laughter.
It was an exuberance so great it was hard to believe he was a man at death's door.
Seeing off Caesar, who fell asleep with that laugh on his lips, Marcus began the succession process in earnest.
Peculiarly, Marcus's later actions were only vaguely recorded in the histories.
Some accounts claimed he died a peaceful death surrounded by his heir Sophia, his eldest son Trajan, and his loved ones. Others suggested he laid down all his burdens and left with Julia to travel the world.
Unlike the Romans, who were famous for their meticulous record-keeping, the descriptions of Marcus's final days were uniquely ambiguous.
Later historians theorized that Sophia, who succeeded Marcus, orchestrated this ambiguity to highlight her father's divinity.
In fact, the citizens of ancient Rome genuinely believed that Marcus had not died, but had ascended to heaven.
This was largely due to his prophecies, which continued to be proven entirely accurate long after his departure.
Sophia, succeeding Marcus—who would later be known as the Divine Emperor—proved through her actions that his foresight had been flawless.
She partitioned India into three states so it could not recover its power, and used the Tokhara forces as a buffer against the Xiongnu.
While leading Rome into this great revival, she suddenly issued an order that was difficult to comprehend.
“Evacuate Pompeii and Herculaneum, and relocate all their infrastructure elsewhere. Decades from now, an earthquake will strike the region, and seventeen years after that, the volcano will erupt.”
This was not completely unprecedented.
Marcus had already set a precedent by predicting the great earthquake in Antioch and constructing the new city of Marcopolis.
Once the absolute command of the Augusta was given, the people obeyed without question.
Sophia had even pinpointed the exact timeframe of the volcanic eruption, leaving no room for doubt.
In any case, her prophecy would become a crucial event in confirming the divinity of the Roman Emperors.
And astoundingly, it happened in the exact year Sophia had foretold.
A massive earthquake struck Pompeii, collapsing numerous structures.
Though there were no casualties since the city had long been evacuated, the public was left reeling by the unbelievable event.
No one existed anymore who dared question the prophecies of the Roman imperial family.
And finally, the fateful day arrived.
A few great merchants, catching the scent of money, chartered massive ships and sold tour packages to safely view the volcanic eruption from afar.
To their surprise, the reservations sold out in an instant, and countless people watched the smoke billowing out from Mount Vesuvius through their Telescopes from the sea.
When the eruption began exactly as prophesied, every spectator—noble and commoner alike—fell to their knees and prayed.
Rome's golden age continued long after that.
Of course, as eras passed and technology advanced, various side effects emerged.
Rome built a massive fleet, crossed the Atlantic, and plundered enormous resources from the New World to fill its coffers.
Because the technological gap had widened to an insurmountable degree, neither the inhabitants of the New World nor the nations of the East could offer any resistance.
If not for the teachings left behind by the Divine Emperor Marcus, Rome might have turned into an empire that mercilessly exploited the entire world.
But the world, as it always had, gradually found its balance and achieved stability.
No matter what dark ages it went through, or what upheavals shook the eras, they never lasted forever.
As long as people put down roots and lived upon the land, the world would inch forward, and its people would strive for a better path.
Everyone in the world lived by remembering those who had departed and discovering the countless things left for the future.
In the grand scheme of things, nations and people were no different.
Hundreds, then thousands of years had piled up like that, and would continue to do so in the future.
As long as humanity lived upon this earth, and history went on.
*
“Ah... damn it, I ruined this semester too.”
The hand clutching the exam paper, which bore a disastrous grade, trembled uncontrollably.
I shouldn't have taken this stupid class in the first place.
How on earth could new assignments be added not just every week, but every single class?
Not even Netflix pumped out content at this speed.
“Huh? What's this, Kim Jaehoon? Did you fail too? Even if you ace the finals, getting a B+ is going to be tough.”
“Ah, I'm so pissed. Hey, honestly, wasn't the topic for this assignment way too vague? True to the name ‘Understanding Western History,’ they should have given us a topic based on surviving historical records. Frankly, this is just scribbling down our delusions. And then they dock our points like this for ‘lacking evidence’...”
“I know, right? I submitted my life's masterpiece, and I got a C. I should just accept that I'm retaking this course.”
I grabbed the exam paper my friend had tossed onto his desk for all to see, and skimmed through it.
The topic covered in the midterm for Understanding Western History was the Divine Emperor of Rome, Marcus Augustus.
Since Western history couldn't be explained without Marcus, I could accept that part.
But the prompt for this exam was to detail Marcus's achievements and infer how he had been able to accomplish them.
Describing his achievements was just a matter of memorization, so fine, but honestly, didn't the latter part cross a line?
How was I supposed to know how that man pulled off such ridiculous feats?
My friend looked at my paper and snorted, finding it laughable.
“You wrote this so boringly. ‘Marcus's existence is proof that a god exists in this world, and it is certain that Marcus is the incarnation of that god’? Are you part of the Marcus cult or something?”
“No, honestly, it's the only way to explain it! Never mind the rest—how does a guy from that era propose a heliocentric model backed by precise scientific principles? And he predicted the earthquake in Antioch! He even pinpointed the exact year!”
“That's probably just a lie made up by later generations.”
“If it were a lie, would there be that many records left behind? Scholars aren't idiots; they wouldn't fail to verify something like that.”
Let's see what brilliant logic this jerk who laughed at me scribbled down to earn a disastrous C.
Looking at his answer sheet, I let out an involuntary scoff and clicked my tongue.
What is this? Is he insane?
“‘Marcus was undeniably a possessor who regressed from the future... If we assume this, all of his actions can be explained...’ Are you insane? Did the professor not say anything?”
“Actually, he called me in to ask what regressors and possessors were. So I enlightened him.”
Wow, and he still managed to get a C with that?
Suddenly, knowing I had only scored slightly higher than this idiot made me feel pathetic.
“If it had been me, I would have given you an F the moment I saw it. Have you lost your mind from binge-reading too many web novels lately? Why would you write that on an exam?”
“Honestly, didn't you know this theory is the mainstream trend in history communities lately? People practically treat Marcus as a regressor! And apparently, Marcus secretly pulled some strings for Buyeo. Considering that, maybe he was a Korean guy who regressed? I heard that in his youth, Marcus was quite the reckless trash-tier young master. Doesn't that sound exactly like a modern novel?”
“Ah, you idiot. People only make those jokes because his achievements are so absurd that they can can't be explained any other way. And it's not that his life is similar to modern novels—it's that modern novels are basing their tropes on him!”
It wasn't like I was completely ignorant of the chatter in the history communities.
Honestly, whenever I told people I was a history major, that was the most common question I got.
‘What does academia say about Marcus? Was he really a god?’
The reality was that when faced with such questions, all I could say was, ‘I don't know either.’
And lately, as web novels surged in popularity, documents and posts about Marcus circulated heavily under clickbait titles like
.
Truthfully, it wasn't as if I hadn't entertained the thought myself.
To be exact, I had fantasized a few times about how incredibly well I'd do if I reincarnated or possessed someone.
But a fantasy was just a fantasy. How could that possibly make any sense?
Occasionally, there were people who genuinely believed it was real, but I wasn't quite that far gone.
“No, I'm telling you, it's not a joke, it's real. If Marcus were alive today, he'd be shocked, like, ‘Whoa, how did you know?’”
“Cut the nonsense and let's just focus on doing well on the finals. History majors can't get jobs anyway, so we at least need to keep our GPAs up.”
“Still, don't you think things will be better by the time we graduate? It's all over the news. The Asian Union or whatever.”
“Even so, liberal arts majors struggle to find jobs.”
While clearing my desk, the very topic my friend mentioned caught my eye in a newspaper clipping I had saved.
Recently, voices calling for Asia to unite like the United States of Rome had been growing louder.
After all, the only countries in Northeast Asia with populations exceeding 80 million were our country and Japan.
On the mainland, even the most populous nation, the Chinese People's Republic, barely scraped 60 million, and the surrounding countries spent every waking day snarling at each other, preventing any unification so far.
Of course, it was also true that our country had reaped immense benefits because of that.
Ah, now that I thought about it, Rome's influence had been the main reason the mainland was torn apart in the first place.
Looking at it that way, it meant our country had also greatly benefited from Rome.
“I should go tell the professor that I've decided on the topic for my next presentation.”
“Really? Just yesterday you were whining about not knowing what to do.”
“It just came to me out of nowhere. Anyway, see you later.”
Before the sudden flash of inspiration vanished, I hastily jotted down the title in my notebook and left the lecture hall.
Come to think of it, the reason I became interested in history in the first place was because I had read Marcus's biography so deeply as a child, re-reading it countless times.
The influence left behind by a man from over a thousand years ago remained to this day, determining the direction of someone's life.
This was the power of history, and perhaps the reason why so many people struggled desperately just to leave a single line of their name in it.
Not just me—for decades, perhaps even hundreds of years to come, people would live holding this exact same sentiment.
The past was not a severed period of time.
It was connected to the present, and that present stretched forward to become the future.
For this presentation, I decided I would naturally connect these facts while explaining Marcus's achievements.
The presentation title I had finally settled on looked somewhat similar to the web novels my friend was so obsessed with.
[Marcus, Trash of the Roman Conglomerate.]
Fin.