webnovel

Heir of Aurelian

作者: Zentmeister
歴史
連載中 · 1.6M ビュー
  • 181 章
    コンテンツ
  • 4.3
    30 レビュー結果
  • NO.200+
    応援
概要

The year is 407 AD and Rome is at the precipice. In the West, a usurper by the name of Flavius Claudius Constantinus has declared himself emperor. By doing this, he and his traitor legions have fractured the Western Roman Empire into two. At the same time, the north bleeds! Countless germans swarm across the borders of the Empire and pillage its lands in their ruthless raids. Alaric, King of the Goths, rises to a position of prominence and threatens the ancient capital of the dying Empire with his barbarian hordes. As if things weren't bad enough, rumors from the east state that a mysterious power rises within the fogs of war, threatening to drown the Empire in a river of blood. As a response to these threats, the indolent emperor Honorius has given orders to his supreme commander Flavius Stilicho to reclaim the province of Gaul from the usurper. However, should he leave the heartland of the Empire undefended, undoubtedly Alaric would invade. Thus, under the threat of barbarians at the gates, Stilicho dispatches a young roman general by the name of Titus Claudius Marcellus to bring an end to the reign of the usurper. Will Rome fall to the tides of barbarians and traitors alike? Or can Marcellus restore a world collapsing around him? Find out in Heir of Aurelian!

タグ
8 タグ
Chapter 1Reincarnation

Within the city of New York, near the University of Columbia, sat a young man of Italian-American descent in his mid-twenties. This man's name was Frank Caruso, who was sitting at his desk staring towards his computer screen as he played a competitive match of a popular strategy game based on Classical Antiquity.

He quickly executed his commands as he played as the Romans against another player who utilized the armies of Hannibal against him. With the click of a button, his troops swiftly marched in formation against the other player. Before long, the legions of Rome clashed with the Sacred Band of Carthage.

Unbeknownst to his rival, Frank had set his Auxilia forces to encircle the Carthaginians in a classic double-envelopment. On this virtual battlefield, tens of thousands of computer-generated soldiers shed each other's blood as a familiar scene displayed itself.

Inspired by the Carthaginian General Hannibal, Frank expertly transitioned his forces into a double envelopment. Which was the same tactic Carthage had famously used against the Romans at Cannae, resulting in one of the worst military defeats the Roman Republic had ever suffered.

Before long, the other player's soldiers were trapped in a square surrounded by the Romans, stabbing away at the Carthaginians' virtual flesh with their gladii. Eventually, the overwhelming victory display appeared on Frank's screen, where the screeching of the other player could be read behind an anonymous wall of text.

"Kill yourself, loser! You must be some kind of virgin NEET! I hope you die a miserable death!"

By now, Frank was too mature to take the bait and get upset over such childish taunts. Instead, he replied with a snarky comment of his own.

"Git gud"

After leaving this disparaging message, Frank shut off his game and reached over to grab his coat. As he did so, he knocked over a few textbooks on his desk related to his schoolwork. In particular, they revolved around the final days of the Western Roman Empire and what was commonly referred to as the Dark Ages.

Having completed his undergrad, Frank was now working on his Ph.D. in history. Though he knew quite a lot about all eras of European history, he had always been drawn to the Ancient Romans, especially the final days of their once-mighty Empire. However, he had no such concerns at the moment, for there was a far more critical task to be had, and that was going to the store to pick up an energy drink.

These books weren't going to read themselves, and it was already well past midnight. If he were to get his schoolwork done in time for the following day, he would need to pull another all-nighter. By now, that was something he was well accustomed to. As such, he draped his coat over his shoulders and walked out of his apartment into the cold winter's night.

Frank made sure to lock his door behind him before treading across the snowy streets of New York. After a short while, he reached the nearest gas station, where he noticed an impoverished vagrant leaning against the exterior of the little building. The man had a bottle of whiskey in his hand and was clearly intoxicated. Thinking nothing of it, Frank pressed forward into the shop where he selected his favorite brand and flavor of energy drink, as well as a bag of chips. He commonly referred to these items as "gamer fuel."

The young man approached the cash register with his goods, where the clerk placed them inside a small bag after ringing him up. Having paid for the food, Frank exited the building, where he noticed the Vagrant was no longer loitering. He merely shrugged his shoulders before returning to his apartment upon seeing this.

However, as he approached the edge of the parking lot, he noticed the Vagrant bump into him. However, this was no accident. As soon as Frank turned around to apologize to the man, he saw that the vagrant was holding onto a knife, which he quickly pressed against Frank's throat.

Frank immediately dropped his belongings and raised his hands in panic, signaling that he was not a threat as he began to speak to the man who was mugging him with a cautious tone in his frightened voice.

"Take whatever you want. I don't have much, but it is yours!"

As soon as Frank said this, the vagrant began to search his body, looking for his wallet; as he did so, the blade slipped by and cut through one of the arteries in Frank's neck. Blood began to gush out of his neck like a fountain as he stared at the sanguine coated blade in disbelief before collapsing to the floor in a pool of his own blood.

The Vagrant began to panic, seeing how he accidentally cut the young man's throat and swiftly picked up the bags left behind by his victim before running off, leaving Frank alone, bleeding out in the snowy street; as this occurred, a single thought passed through his mind.

"Is this really how it ends?"

Before long, utter darkness prevailed, leaving Frank well and truly dead.

---

Titus Claudius Marcellus shook with a start as his mind regained clarity. He did not know why, but after a severe impact to his skull from the club of a Suebi warrior, he had a flash of inspiration, or quite possibly a vision from the gods about an alien world far more advanced than anything he had ever seen before.

In this alien world, he was a student of history by a different name who had attended a prestigious institution of higher learning. However, he had met an untimely demise at the hands of a common criminal within the streets of a vibrant metropolis.

He could hardly believe that his battered mind had conjured such a strange vision. Had he entered the realm of the gods, or had he seen a glimpse of the future? Whatever had occurred, it was indeed a sight to behold.

However, now was not the time to dwell on such concerns; instead, he was faced with a potentially lethal situation as he lay on the ground with a barbarian warrior bringing his weapon down upon him in an attempt to finish the job. Marcellus grasped hold of his spatha, which lie by his side before rolling out of the way of the oncoming club.

As he did so, he could hear the primitive weapon thud against the ground, yet he paid no attention to this; instead, he stood up from the grass beneath his feet and readjusted his gilded iron helmet as he prepared to engage in mortal combat.

The pale Germanic warrior noticed that his prey had escaped his grasp and turned around with a wicked grin on his face, shouting something in a language that Marcellus did not understand before charging at him like a wild boar.

Marcellus raised his oval-shaped scutum in defense as the club clanged against it before pushing the man aside with his shield and thrusting his spatha through the barbarian's riveted mail armor. As the cold steel pierced through his gut, blood poured from the long-haired barbarian's mouth while he forced his torso through the length of the blade in an attempt to get in reach of Marcellus' skull.

However, as the inches of noric steel pierced even further through the barbarian's torso, the man soon found the strength leaving his body before falling to his knees. Marcellus quickly withdrew his sword and raised it in the air for a decapitating blow; before launching the final stroke of his blade, he cursed the man who had so thoroughly ringed his bell before taking his life.

"Filthy barbarian!"

After saying this, he unleashed his spatha onto the man's neck, severing his head in the process. After withdrawing his sword, Marcellus shouted to the troops under his command as he attempted to rally them in the thick of battle.

"Reform the line! Hold strong!"

Upon hearing their General's command, the nearby soldiers of the Roman Army regrouped and entered the formation, pressing their thick scutums together as they held the line against the rampaging Suebi warriors. With every clash against their shields, the Roman soldiers moved in sync like a well-oiled machine as they pushed the enemy aside and thrust their blades into the enemy's bodies.

Seeing how these men were Suebi, few of them had any form of body armor, and those who did were generally considered veteran warriors of the highest caliber. Before long, the Romans began to push back the wave of barbarians as they cut the enemy into ribbons.

As the tides of war shifted, the Suebi began to route, however as they did so, the Roman cavalry appeared from within the forest and chased them down, spearing the barbarian warriors in the back as they attempted to flee the field of battle; for the Suebi, there would be no mercy on this day.

As the battle came to an end, Marcellus wiped the blood which coated his blade onto the wool tunic of a nearby slain barbarian before sheathing it within its brown leather scabbard, which was attached to a baldric across his torso. Blood was splattered across his bronze scale armor, and even his handsome face was marred with the gore of his enemies.

Marcellus took off his dented gilden iron helmet whose red plume was arrogantly displayed upon its crest, revealing his brown hair as he gazed with his olive green eyes upon one of his commanders who rushed towards his position with an ecstatic expression on his face.

"General! We have achieved a great victory against the Suebi here today; if the Supreme Commander were here, he would surely reward you for your efforts!"

Marcellus merely chuckled as he placed his bloodstained hand upon the commander's shoulder before expressing his thoughts on the matter.

"Just another day in service to the Empire, my friend!"

Titus Claudius Marcellus came from a renowned family and held the position of General in the Western Roman Army. At the moment, he was serving under the Supreme Commander of the Western Roman Army, Flavius Stilicho.

Though he was only in his mid-twenties, he had proven himself as a capable military leader from a young age, especially during the previous Gothic invasion. During these desperate times, he had risen to his current status after a string of overwhelming victories against the Empire's many enemies. However, one could also claim that his rapid ascent through the ranks was in no small part due to his close relationship with the Supreme Commander.

Currently, Marcellus and his army were campaigning in Gaul as they attempted to end the reign of the usurper Flavius Claudius Constantinus and drive back the rampaging Germanic Tribes who had recently crossed over the Rhine. This was the first significant battle they encountered after entering the chaotic province.

As the Roman soldiers began to clean up the battlefield and bury their dead, many of the men started to kneel in the direction of Rome and pray. When the commander saw that Marcellus remained standing, he questioned his actions.

"Do you not intend to give thanks to the Lord God Almighty for this victory? Without him, none of this could have been achieved!"

There was a hint of disdain in Marcellus' eyes as he gazed upon the commander before shaking his head while responding to the question.

"No, Lucan, I do not believe I will. I have other matters to attend to, but you have my permission to pray in my stead…."

The commander, known as Lucan, smiled, and nodded before breaking out into prayer; as for Marcellus, he walked away from the scene, not wanting to have any part in the Christian rights. Instead, he reached underneath his Lorica Squamata vest and pulled out a small pendant in the form of a gold coin that hung around his neck. This coin contained the visage of Sol Invictus, one of the old gods of Rome.

The moment he was out of sight, he began to pray to the god of his ancestors, thanking him for the great victory that Rome had achieved on this day. For if he had done so in public, he was sure to be persecuted by the Christians who now dominated the Empire.

As Marcellus finished his prayer, he gazed into the setting sun, wondering what the vision he had seen in his rattled state could have possibly meant; perhaps it was an omen for what was to come. Regardless, he chose not to dwell on such a foreboding subject any longer; whatever may come to pass, he would meet it with steel in his hand, and the troops beneath his command, for the Glory of Rome, was eternal!

あなたも好きかも

Flowers Bloom from Battlefield

Throughout the Ming Kingdom, Jun Hua was famous for being a useless girl without any talent worthy of praise. Everyone mocked her, belittling her for latching onto her brilliant brother Jun Min, the young and peerless general admired as the most talented prodigy for his talent and his ability to change the fate of the declining Jun Family. Never in their wildest dreams would they have suspected that Jun Hua is the young general who is leading the army on the frontline, Jun Min! "She has no talent as a girl, but has the brilliance of a great general!" Her journey towards revenge is something she has to do on her own. And yet, on that path she will gain allies, friends, and possibly even...... a romance? This is Jun Hua's story, a story that shall be carved into history as the legend of "the flower who blooms from the battlefields". .... Story set in fictional world with culture similar to ancient Chinese Word count: 900-1500 words/chapter Thank you for the help of the readers in the discord to make the synopsis The cover picture credit goes to the Webnovel team. Edited chapter count: 75 Link to Discord: https://discord.gg/pBy2wGB ... Other novels: - Under the Veil of Night [complete] - 7 Path of the Lilies [on long hiatus] - 1 Year of Beginning [complete] - Villain Lady [complete] - Science and Fantasy [complete] - 2 Years of Restarting [complete] - Forgotten Legend of the Bloodied Flower [on going] - The Quiet Empress [on going] ... follow me on IG: @sora100518

Sorahana · 歴史
4.7
409 Chs

Help!: I Think My System Is Trying To Kill Me!

Author-san here! Well, I know you're all here for some adventure, so don't worry. I've got you covered! (^0^)  This is my original work, and I know you all will like it. So shamelessly lean back into your seats and read away!  Of course, don't forget to check out my other books: •I'm The King Of Technology. •Host, Please Be Honest! What Exactly Are You? •And finally: 'In A Cultivation World With An Entertainment Park.' You can also visit my website for more books: https://LumydeeNovels.Gumroad.com/ Well, that's enough of that. So back to the synopsis! ...... What to do? Ji Feng suddenly found himself in the body of a youngster named Wolfram Lockhart, the son of the deceased village head. Okay. So he transmigrated. That, he could live it.  But please... Can anyone tell him why he transmigrated with such a crazy system by his side? [Host, it looks like your uncle is heading your way. Hahahhahaha~... Host, you're about to get butchered. This is fun to watch!] '_' [Host, host, where are you going? So what if you're as weak as a chicken? Come on, dive into the battle. What's the worst that can happen?] '_' [Wait! Host, where are you doing? The battlefield is that way! Host! Host! Host!.. Dammit! What a waste of heavenly popcorn!] (:T^T:) .... One boy, one unbelievable system.  Ji Feng... No!... Wolfram Lockhart... now found himself in the strange world of Grandia, starting from the weakest level ever... A mortal! In this world of palladium, Sky ranking abilities, and Creatures of myths and legends, Wolfram only had one domain from it all.  With his head to the heavens and his little man out of his pants, he was quick to spray his fluid while raining uncountable curses at them.  Why? Why in God's name did they send him a Suicidal system?

lumydee · 歴史
4.8
236 Chs

The return of the fallen king

In a usurped kingdom , amid a war-torn and blood-soaked Italy, Conradin's battleground is set. To reclaim his birthright the crown of Sicily, he must tread a path paved with blood, learning that he must do whatever it takes to ascend the throne. --------------- In the year 1266, the tale of Conradin, the last scion of an ancient imperial dynasty, unfolds. His once-great kingdom, Sicily, has been ruthlessly usurped first by his own uncle and now rests in the hands of the cunning French Count Charles. Through a treacherous plot involving the Pope, Charles managed to oust the Hohenstaufen from the Kingdom of Sicily and crowned himself as its king. In the East, powers such as the Despotate of Epirus are keenly observing the instability in Sicily, poised to seize any advantage that may arise from the chaos. Meanwhile, the small Italian communes are caught in the political crossfire, aligning themselves with one side of the conflict or the other based on the prevailing political party in power and their vested interests. These shifting allegiances turn the Italian peninsula into a powder keg, where all-out war seems inevitable. As the shadows of history close in around Conradin, the world watches with bated breath. Will he emerge triumphant, his name forever etched in the annals of Sicilian glory as the rightful king who defied insurmountable odds, toppling both the Pope and the usurper? Or will he, in his valiant struggle, become a tragic figure, a symbol of lost opportunities and shattered dreams? The future of Sicily hangs in the balance, and Conradin's destiny remains uncertain, poised on the precipice of history.

Allevatore_dicapre · 歴史
4.6
387 Chs

レビュー結果

  • 総合レビュー
  • テキストの品質
  • リリース頻度安定性
  • ストーリー展開
  • キャラクターデザイン
  • 世界観設定
レビュー
いいね
最新

応援