Fallout:Blood and the Bull

honest reviews would be greatly appreciated

Any opinion and comments are welcome

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"Why is it so difficult to maintain large amounts of gold?" I repeated, my irritation evident as I dropped yet another scroll onto the growing pile of documents in front of me. The expenses were unsustainable, and each day seemed to bring a new concern that drained our reserves faster than I could replenish them.

"Buying slaves, materials, tools, paying wages, feeding the troops... everything is absurdly expensive," I complained, letting out a frustrated sigh. "And that's not even counting the 'whims' of some unwanted visitors." My tone hardened at the end, making my exasperation clear.

It had been a month since we renamed the fortress Castra Caesarea, and although progress in reclaiming the lands was tangible, the cost of every small advancement weighed heavily on my resources. The resettled peasants worked tirelessly to plant the valleys, and the first crops were beginning to sprout. However, rebuilding these lands and turning them into the agricultural hub we needed required a massive investment. Moreover, the losses suffered during the campaign against the beastmen had reduced our ranks, and rebuilding my personal army was an absolute priority. Training slaves was a slow and painfully expensive process.

Adding to this, my income was dwindling. The free cities, once willing to pay tribute to keep my legions away from their disputes, were beginning to ignore my threats. They knew that my recent losses limited my ability to intimidate them, and they took every opportunity to test me. My legionaries, instead of intimidating these cities, were busy patrolling my new territories—not against the beastmen, but against nobles attempting to reclaim their lands by force. Weekly reports detailed these incursion attempts, each one consuming resources and manpower I could ill afford to lose.

However, what gave me the biggest headache at the moment was the group the church had sent to my fortress. A retinue of religious knights—so-called "Protectors of the Faith"—had recently arrived at Castra Caesarea under the pretext of "helping" with the defense of the frontier. According to official reports, their mission was to ensure that the values of the faith were upheld in this reclaimed land. But the reality was quite different.

From the moment they arrived, their complaints began and never ceased. "'The food is unfit for honorable servants of God,'" I mocked, mimicking their constant whining as I leafed through yet another report. "'The fortress needs a larger church to honor God as He deserves. The stained glass windows are not of sufficient quality.'"

My men barely concealed their annoyance with this group. These "servants of God" had not lifted a sword against any enemy nor contributed to our operations on the ground. Instead, they spent their days presenting absurd demands that further strained our already tight finances. Every time I saw them strolling through the central courtyard, surrounded by an aura of false sanctity, my patience wore thinner.

"Lord Caesar," said one of my centurions, bowing respectfully. His tone was firm, but a hint of nervousness crept into his voice. "A letter from the capital. Your presence is requested before the emperor. A ceremony in your honor will be held, Mighty Caesar, to recognize your efforts in saving the empire."

I remained silent for a moment, letting his words settle in the room. My eyes fell on the sealed letter he extended toward me. The imperial seal, gleaming under the lamplight, was unmistakable. I took the scroll and calmly unrolled it, reading the formal words describing the invitation. Each line spoke of honor, recognition, and gratitude, but beneath those flourishes, I could sense the true intentions.

"Rewarded…" I murmured softly, almost to myself. Rewarded or more closely scrutinized? The capital was not a place where honors were given without ulterior motives. My name and my actions had traveled too far to be ignored, but also too far to be left unchecked.

"When am I expected?" I finally asked, rolling the scroll back up.

"In two weeks, Lord Caesar. The message indicates that an escort will be provided from the eastern borders to ensure your safety during the journey."

An escort. Of course. A perfect excuse to monitor my every move from the moment I left Castra Caesarea. I could not ignore this invitation, but I also could not allow myself to be caught off guard.

"Inform them that I accept the invitation," I said, handing back the letter. "But we will arrange our own itinerary. I don't need imperial escorts shadowing me like a prisoner. Prepare a force small enough not to arouse suspicion, but imposing enough to make it clear who I am."

"Yes, Mighty Caesar," the centurion replied, bowing his head before retreating.

I wasted no time. With the deadline set by the letter, I decided we would depart immediately. I could not afford any delay that might be interpreted as a slight to the emperor. Time was essential, and the sooner we left, the sooner I could face this ceremony with the caution it required.

Unfortunately, to my cursed luck, the church's Protectors insisted on joining our retinue. No matter how hard I tried to find an excuse to leave them behind, none seemed adequate without creating conflict with the church. And so there they were, mounted on their horses with their airs of "honorable servants of God," prepared to accompany us all the way to the capital.

From the moment they arrived at Castra Caesarea, these women had been a constant source of irritation. For some reason, my presence seemed to fascinate them. They always found excuses to interact with me, whether it was requesting to spar with swords or insisting on discussing "spiritual matters" that never managed to capture my interest. It was difficult to understand their persistence, but something about them made their company deeply unpleasant to me.

Every time one of them requested a training duel, with that mix of feigned courtesy and obstinate determination, I was seized by the urge to end the matter once and for all. Their mere presence seemed to fill the air with unnecessary tension. I couldn't fully explain it, but something about them was intolerable. Despite this, I accepted their challenges with the fewest words possible, more to silence them than out of genuine interest.

What they hoped to achieve, if there was a purpose behind their insistence, remained a mystery. Perhaps they thought their gestures would impress me or that they would somehow earn my favor. However, any attempt by these Protectors to gain my trust ended in failure, as their very presence irritated me. Their apparent obsession with me was not only baffling but exhausting. The only thing they achieved was to make me wish for their disappearance.

The journey, accompanied by a cohort of legionaries ensuring our safety, was quick and efficient. However, the Protectors managed to make the trip more tedious than necessary. Between their constant comments about the greatness of my cause and their endless suggestions for training or spiritual dialogues, it was difficult to find a moment of peace. I could not wait to reach the capital and, with luck, leave them behind once and for all.

Finally, we arrived at the capital, and the reception was as pompous as it was predictable. The entrance to the city was adorned with banners and flowers, and crowds of citizens gathered on either side of the road to watch me pass, as if I were some kind of costly spectacle. They even threw rose petals as we advanced—a ridiculous exaggeration that made me uncomfortable. The murmurs of the crowd filled the air; some whispered in admiration, while others simply watched with curiosity, as if my presence was a distraction from their mundane lives.

To them, I was nothing more than a curiosity—a living story from the empire's fringes.

Thankfully, the theatricality ended quickly as we entered the noble sector of the city. Here, the atmosphere was different: quieter, more controlled, but with a palpable tension. The gaze of the nobles watching from their balconies was not one of admiration, but of evaluation. They knew who I was, and more importantly, they knew what I represented. In this place, I was not a popular hero; I was an unpredictable element in their carefully crafted intrigues.

I was escorted to an imperial estate—a temporary residence assigned for my stay. Although I couldn't deny the place's grandeur, with its meticulously tended gardens and almost excessively decorated rooms, the only thing I truly appreciated was the privacy it offered. After the constant clamor of the journey and the reception, I finally had a moment to relax.

But the best part came shortly after.

One of my frumentarii centurions, disguised as a mere servant, appeared in my quarters—the company I truly valued. He moved with discretion, ensuring no one else was nearby before he began to speak.

"Lord Caesar," the frumentarii began, inclining his head slightly while carefully scanning the room to confirm we were alone. His voice was low, calculated, perfectly suited to the role of a servant. "I've gathered information on the noble circles and the movements within the city. The situation here is... complex, as expected."

He moved with the practiced subtlety of his craft, pouring me a goblet of wine as he relayed his report. "The nobles are divided. Some view your arrival as a threat, while others see it as an opportunity. Rumors about your campaign in the east and your relationship with the church have spread rapidly. There are those who believe your influence is growing too quickly to be ignored."

I listened in silence, letting his words flow as I focused on every detail. His tone, though respectful, carried that familiar urgency that always accompanied bad news.

"And the emperor?" I asked finally, my gaze fixed on him.

"Neutral, for now, Lord Caesar," he replied, bowing slightly deeper. "Your victory in the east has earned you the admiration of many, but it has also sparked concern among others. You've demonstrated independence and effectiveness, which inspires both interest and caution. Some of his advisors suggest you should be closely monitored, while others believe your loyalty could be leveraged to strengthen the empire."

"Interesting," I murmured, letting his words sink in as I toyed with the goblet before me. I expected no less from the capital—a place where every gesture, every word, was another move on the chessboard of power.

"There's more, Lord Caesar," he continued, his tone dropping even lower. "Some nobles are holding private meetings to discuss your presence. Their actions aren't yet coordinated, but there are signs they're exploring ways to influence your position... or limit it."

"And who are these nobles?" I asked calmly, though my interest sharpened.

"Their names will be included in a more detailed report tonight," he promised. "For now, I can tell you that those closest to the throne are watching you most intently, and not all with good intentions."

I waved a hand for him to continue preparing the report. "Stay close, and ensure our network remains active. I don't want any surprises."

"As you wish, Lord Caesar," he replied, bowing one last time before retreating with the same discretion he had arrived with.

I picked up the goblet of wine the frumentarii had served, gazed at it for a moment, and then hurled it to the floor with force. The glass shattered into pieces, and the liquid spilled across the tiles—a symbol of what I despised most: hollow opulence and decadence masquerading as grandeur. It was the first emblem of what I loathed about this place, a reflection of the rot that had allowed the empire to teeter on the brink of collapse.

"Straight into the viper's nest," I muttered, my voice laced with disdain as I watched the spilled wine mix with the shards of glass. This journey was no honor, no reward. It was an invitation to a game where no one played fair, and where a single miscalculated word could be as lethal as a sword on the battlefield.

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honest reviews would be greatly appreciated

Any opinion and comments are welcome