Chapter 2 Recruitment and Caputi Mundi ( Capital of the World)

The 14th Legion is Rome's most decorated legion, having many nicknames such as Gemina Martia Victrix, "Twinned Martial and Victorious," or simply Martia Victrix, "Martial and Victorious," given by Augustus. But during its infancy, it was known as the cursed legion. Why, you ask? It was massacred twice during battle, and the Romans were very superstitious people; they don't use the same legionary number of a legion that was defeated in battle, especially one that was massacred.

After I saw the recruitment banner of the 14th Legion, I immediately concluded that I'm in Caesar's timeline. How did I know? Because the 14th banner only said Gemina; the 14th Legion will only gain its glory after Caesar's death, gaining the Gemina Martia Victrix title.

Rome at this time was chaotic and full of war, but it was also a time of opportunity. What I love about the Roman legion is that even if you're a commoner, you can steadily rise up in ranks and eventually become a centurion through bravery and leadership. Rome is in need of a lot of people like this because it is about to shed its republican leadership and become an empire.

Immediately after realizing my situation, despair hit me. I'm a history lover, not a soldier. After years of peace, my mind has already grown accustomed to it. I was spoiled with the luxury my previous life has given me. I cannot go to war; I need to run. That is the first thing that came to my mind after assessing my situation.

But before I could take a step, someone pushed me from behind. I almost fell down because of the force but managed to recover. When I angrily looked in the direction of the person who pushed me, I saw a man standing about 6ft tall and with a good build, even for a 22nd-century person like me. I could tell that this guy would be a great soldier. "Hey, hurry up! You're blocking the way!" The loud voice broke my chain of thought as I timidly made way for him. I was about to walk away and run when the same guy suddenly grabbed me and took me into the recruitment outpost. "Aren't you also going to the 14th Legion's recruitment?" Before I could answer him, the gates of the outpost were closed, and a centurion gave some instructions to the trainers, and the assessment started.

The Romans have the strictest requirements for their legion. They first check the body shape, and having good eyesight is preferred. Then they will check the height of the recruit. Generally, a height of 5'5" is the minimum requirement to be a legionnaire. Above that, and you'll score high in the assessment. If you have a height above 5'8", you'll be recruited to the 1st Cohort. After this, they check the body build of the recruits; they prefer recruits with wide shoulders and a slim waist.

Slowly, the assessment started. Many rejoiced at the news that they'll be officially trained for four months to be a legionnaire, but some also despaired as they failed the assessment. As the recruits dwindled down, I saw that the guy from earlier was next.

"Name and Age!" the trainer shouted. "Spartacus, 18 years of age!" So that guy's name is Spartacus. Anger immediately rushed into my head. Screw this guy; I don't want to die, even if the Romans have the best equipment and tactics. Death is still inevitable in war, especially since I know that in a few months, the whole 14th Legion will be massacred in Germania.

While I was thinking, the trainer shouted in my direction to come forward. It's my turn now. I came forward, and the trainer started to assess me. "Name and Age!"

I already knew the basic details of the original body's information thanks to the flood of memories. I responded, "Julius Titus, 16 years of age." The trainer nodded and started measuring my body. "Height 5'10". Good body build. Can you read and write?" "Yes, sir!" Even though the original body couldn't read or write, I can. I've been studying classical Latin as a hobby back in my original timeline. "Okay, you come to that side; you'll be part of the 1st cohort and train with them." I nodded and left in the direction the trainer pointed at.

Some people tried to get my attention, but I only nodded and kept to myself. I wanted to run, but I can't. After assessing the situation, there are countless barbarians out here that will kill me without reason. My biggest chance of survival is getting into the legion.

After a while, the assessment was over, and we were immediately forced into a march. They gave us full gear weighing 30kg and told us to march according to formation. And so we marched. It was hell. I'm not accustomed to this kind of physical labor. All my life in my previous timeline, the only march I did was marching to school or to the grocery store. Once we arrived at our destination, it was a 16km march with full gear. I was relieved that it was finally over and we could rest, but to my horror, the trainer told us to march back into camp. So, as we marched, some of the recruits started to fall down, and the trainer would just pick them up and tell them to continue.

"I just want to go home," I mumbled. "This is not the life I want…" Shortly after we arrived at camp, I thought that training would be over, but I was mistaken. We were ordered to grab a wooden gladius and a shield that were twice as heavy as the original counterparts. Our practice went relatively well; the Roman Legion didn't really practice much sword technique. We were only taught one move, and that is to stab—the most efficient and least energy-consuming move. That's what the Legion is all about, with their brutal efficiency at combat, they conquered most of the known world, making Rome Caputi Mundi or the Capital of the World. The sword practice was easy, but the shield formation was hard because it required teamwork and formation with the other legionaries. We made a lot of mistakes, but we gradually got the hang of it. We practiced until sundown, and the trainer was over for the day.