I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

"I know very well," Aporos said with a casual shrug. "But he's heading in the same direction, so I'm just helping him out. No harm in that."

"No harm in that?" the other man seethed. "We're sailing to Pelusium to secure an important alliance with Pompey....for Queen Cleopatra! And you're playing around with strangers?!"

Nathan's eyes snapped open.

Cleopatra.

That name would be instantly recognizable to anyone who hadn't spent their life in complete isolation.

The last Queen and Pharaoh of Egypt—renowned for her beauty, intelligence, and political prowess. A woman who had ensnared some of the greatest men of her time, from Julius Caesar to Mark Antony.

And now, she existed in this world as well?

Or was it merely a version of her, an echo of history reshaped by the fabric of this new reality?

Nathan was growing accustomed to these constant surprises. First, he had encountered Caesar—alive and well in this strange world. And now Cleopatra's name had surfaced in conversation. It was as if history itself had been twisted into a new form, playing out events in an altered script.

Not that he particularly cared.

Still, at least he now had a clearer understanding of what was unfolding around him.

These people were heading to Pelusium to meet with Pompey. Their goal? Most likely to offer him protection while securing an alliance.

If Nathan had to make an educated guess, Cleopatra was vying for her throne against her brother, just as in history. Aligning herself with Pompey would provide her with the political leverage she needed to solidify her claim. At the same time, Pompey could benefit from forging an alliance with the Amun-Ra Empire, securing his own safety and influence.

A clever plan.

But none of it had anything to do with Nathan.

His only concern was Pompey—more precisely, using Pompey as leverage to obtain the information he sought. And if that meant tearing through everyone in his way, so be it.

For now, however, patience was his greatest weapon.

He would let them take him to Pelusium, quietly observing until the perfect opportunity presented itself.

Nathan's mind drifted to a question that had been lingering since his arrival: Where would he even begin searching for Pompey? How would he track him down in an unfamiliar world? But it seemed fate had provided an answer before he had to struggle for one.

He had stumbled upon the very people seeking Pompey—and judging by their knowledge, they were far more informed than he was. Following them once they reached Pelusium was the most efficient course of action.

Having heard enough, Nathan shut out the rest of their conversation.

The journey continued, and he found himself largely ignored by the rest of the crew. Whether it was due to distrust or simply a desire not to draw unnecessary attention to themselves, he didn't know—nor did he care.

If anything, he preferred it this way.

No needless chatter. No pointless attempts at small talk.

For the most part, they left him alone.

Except for one.

Aporos.

"Aren't you eating, Lucius?"

Nathan didn't turn to face him. His eyes remained on the endless horizon, watching the rhythmic dance of waves as the ship cut through the sea. The vast expanse of water stretched beyond sight, merging seamlessly with the sky.

"No," he replied curtly.

Aporos chuckled, leaning against the wooden railing beside him. "Not much of an eater, huh? Or is it that you're too deep in thought?"

Nathan gave him a brief, disinterested glance but didn't bother responding.

Aporos, however, didn't seem like the type to be discouraged by silence.

"I don't think you're stupid, so I'm sure you've already figured out that there's something... peculiar about our little group, haven't you?" Aporos asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as he studied Nathan.

Nathan, however, was unfazed. His gaze remained sharp, unwavering. "Not something I particularly care about," he replied coolly. "Just take me to Pelusium."

Aporos chuckled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "That's good. We will, don't worry." His expression remained relaxed, but there was an undeniable glint of curiosity in his eyes. "But tell me—" He leaned forward slightly, as if testing the waters of their conversation. "You want to see Pompey, don't you?"

Nathan didn't respond. He merely held Aporos's gaze, his silence carrying its own weight.

Aporos, unfazed, pressed on. "Your little discussion back at the tavern made it seem like you're quite interested in him. Do you bear some kind of grudge against Pompey?"

Nathan's response was swift and cold, his voice devoid of any warmth. "What I want from Pompey is none of your business."

Aporos remained silent for a moment, his smirk faltering slightly before he regained his composure. Of course, he wasn't about to admit his true allegiance—that he was a follower of Cleopatra and was seeking an alliance with the Roman general. That information was too sensitive to be carelessly revealed.

Instead, he redirected the conversation. "I was just curious," he said smoothly, shrugging. "You're from Rome, aren't you? Do you know Pompey personally?"

Nathan's mind began to work through the implications.

Aporos had already figured out that he was searching for Pompey—just like they were. But why? Was he simply trying to gauge the kind of man Pompey was, perhaps to prepare for negotiations? It was possible. The way Aporos was subtly probing him suggested he was hoping to extract valuable information.

But was that the real reason they had offered to take him to Pelusium? Probably not.

Nathan's instincts told him there was more to this group than they let on. And if they were truly connected to Cleopatra, then there was another question that gnawed at the back of his mind:

Did they have any connection to the Heroes?

And more importantly, could they be involved in the disappearances of Ameriah and Auria?

If Aporos was going to pry for information, Nathan saw no reason why he couldn't do the same. A careful exchange of words could lead him to something valuable.

So, instead of brushing Aporos off, he decided to give him a little of what he wanted. Just enough to keep him talking.

"Pompey is an admirer of Alexander the Great," Nathan said at last.

Aporos let out a short laugh, clearly entertained by the statement. "Who isn't?" he replied with a grin.

Indeed, Alexander was revered as a god in his time. His conquests had reshaped history, toppling countless kingdoms—including the Rome of the past and the mighty Amun-Ra Empire. He had subdued not only the fragmented Greek city-states but had carved a path through Persia, Egypt, and beyond. Even centuries after his death, his legacy endured, his name whispered with reverence across nations.

In fact, Khillea admired him as well.

Nathan watched Aporos closely, gauging his reaction. Was this line of conversation revealing anything useful? Perhaps. Or perhaps he had just walked into Aporos's trap, feeding him exactly what he wanted.

Either way, he had no intention of letting his guard down.

Nathan searched his memory, trying to recall anything else he knew about Pompey. There had to be something useful—something that could help him navigate this situation.

One fact stood out immediately.

Pompey was going to die.

The Pharaoh's men would ensure it. That much was inevitable. In fact, if fate had already taken its course, Pompey might already be dead.

That would be a serious problem for Nathan.

His mind raced as he pieced things together. If Pompey had already been eliminated, then his trip to Pelusium could be a complete waste of time—or worse, it could put him in danger if he walked into a trap.

Pushing the thought aside, he decided to share what little else he could recall. "He was once close to Caesar…" Nathan said, his tone measured as he carefully chose his words.

Aporos grinned, clearly amused. "Of course he was," he replied, his voice carrying a note of condescension. "Pompey is one of the three Emperors of Rome. Alongside Julius Caesar and Marcus Crassus, they are the most powerful men of the Empire."

Nathan remained silent, absorbing the information. He had known about Rome's previous ruling structure, but hearing it confirmed in the present moment made everything feel more concrete.

"But tensions rose between Caesar and Pompey," Aporos continued, his tone shifting slightly. "Now Pompey is seen as an enemy of Rome. A rather… convenient shift in power, don't you think? It's quite clear that the remaining two rulers orchestrated this. Though I must admit, I've always been curious—what exactly drove them apart?"

Nathan resisted the urge to smirk. Aporos was trying to bait him into revealing more than he should. But for once, this worked in his favor. If Aporos was willing to keep talking, Nathan had a chance to extract more from him as well.

"So there are three Emperors," Nathan mused internally, allowing the thought to settle.

Something about that rang a bell.

He knew Julius Caesar had ruled Rome alongside two others before. But history told a clear story—his co-rulers never lasted long.

It wasn't difficult to guess why.

"Caesar wants the throne," Nathan said absentmindedly, almost thinking aloud. "He intends to become the sole Emperor, with absolute power and authority."

The moment the words left his lips, the atmosphere shifted.

A stunned silence followed.

Aporos and the others looked at him in surprise, as if he had just spoken something blasphemous.

Then Aporos laughed, shaking his head. "You must be joking, Lucius," he said, though there was an uncertain edge to his voice. "The Roman Empire and the Pope would never allow one man to claim all power for himself…"

Nathan turned his gaze to Aporos, his expression unreadable. He didn't need to say anything. He was sure of one thing—Caesar, regardless of the version of history, was always an ambitious man. He would not share power indefinitely.

Aporos might laugh now, but he was wrong.

Caesar would take the throne for himself.

Nathan shifted his thoughts to something else—something far more intriguing.

If Caesar was that ambitious…

Then perhaps he could be useful.

A new plan began to take shape in Nathan's mind. If Pompey was already dead—or soon to be—he needed an alternative.

"Maybe I could make a deal with him…"