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Chapter 123 - “The Last Dark Hero of Rome,” huh?

When old Pompey finally understood he was out of options and had no choice but to follow Night down this path, he showed his true claws to his former allies.

Knowing that hesitation would only lead to greater disaster, the old fox finally embraced the inevitable, revealing the ruthless side he'd long kept hidden.

Initially, he had still harbored a sliver of hope that he might return to the other side, so he was careful not to provoke the senators too much.

But his subsequent denunciations became more intense and ferocious—

He no longer targeted just one or two individuals; each denunciation was aimed squarely at an entire family.

Night: …!!!

Wow, seriously? Does he need to go this hard?

He'd underestimated the old fox's depths.

Night hadn't expected Pompey to be this fierce... Pompey knew so many dark secrets, and as Night listened to each grim, brutal story, the smile gradually faded from his face.

A thought suddenly crossed his mind—"You truly deserve to die, Lord Pompey!"

He didn't believe that Pompey could know so much about Rome's corruption without having participated himself.

Whatever... Sooner or later, opportunists like Pompey would be swept away.

Rome didn't need these parasites.

If he weren't concerned that eliminating them all at once would shake Rome's foundations, he might have acted more recklessly.

Afterward, Pompey's actions seemed like a spark, a perfect example!

As he spoke, some senators grew uneasy, fearing they might be next.

They also realized that Night was serious and waiting any longer would only lead to death.

They had to act; they had to save themselves!

A strong survival instinct drove some senators to approach Night proactively, and soon a unique public denunciation rally unfolded in Rome's central square.

Senators accused one another, desperately trying to curry favor with Night, seeking to join his faction.

But after about a third of the senators had taken his side, Night no longer accepted their overtures so easily.

Many of these senators had already been accused of numerous crimes by Pompey and others, so they were condemned with no chance of redemption!

As this massive spectacle neared its end, the citizens' furious roars grew louder.

In the end, many senators, utterly defeated, were pushed onto the freshly erected gallows.

"Thank the gods for their mercy. You should have died by fire or some other horrific means.

Now, under the gods' witness, you're merely hanged and displayed with your bodies intact,"

Night said as he bid farewell to the senators.

The senators responded with cries of resentment, despair, and indignation.

Some cursed, some pleaded, and some wept uncontrollably.

These once-supreme rulers of Rome now bowed, filled with regret and despair, exposing humanity's most fragile side.

Facing the terror of death, they were afraid, they cowered, and they despaired.

Even the world's greatest heroes might falter under the agony of awaiting death, kneeling to beg.

And how much more so these high-ranking officials, with souls long decayed.

Their disgrace was laid bare before the citizens, left for the Romans to witness and judge…

The Romans felt a satisfaction they had never experienced before.

That day, some wept, others cheered, but they all shared one thing—almost everyone had roared.

Night's final words, the so-called mercy, seemed demonic in the senators' eyes.

Though hanging wouldn't disfigure them like burning, who said it wouldn't be painful?

If he really wanted to give them a quick end, a beheading would have been far swifter.

But as they faced the suffocating, literal suffocation of final despair, no miracle occurred—

Or rather, if there was a miracle, it had favored their enemy.

Many senators met their end on the gallows that day, their bodies later displayed before Rome's gates.

When the events in Rome spread, it quickly caused an uproar—

The entire Roman territory, and even neighboring countries, were shocked.

The once-mighty Roman Senate had been so ruthlessly slaughtered that only a few remained?

This red storm came both suddenly and swiftly—so swiftly that many had no time to react, no idea how grave the situation was until it was too late to salvage anything.

The Senate suffered heavy casualties, which, of course, enraged the Roman elite behind them.

But...

Just as all the factions assumed they would turn their blades toward their common enemy, Night—

First, one family, furious that their noble kin had been denounced by Pompey in the Senate and killed, directed their anger at the Pompey family.

They swiftly imposed economic sanctions, then sent private forces to raid Pompey's estates, killing many.

That night, the entire Pompey family was drenched in blood.

After a night of terror and lingering dread, only at dawn, when reinforcements arrived, did Pompey's private forces manage to repel the enemy.

Many Pompey nobles lay dead in pools of blood, and Strabo Pompey was so shocked he began rambling incoherently.

The elder Pompey was furious—

Upon investigation, all the evidence pointed to another family.

Retaliation came swiftly!

As the two families clashed, nobles who had previously aligned themselves with one faction or the other immediately became wary, each feeling insecure.

They feared that some family might suddenly turn on them as well.

Even though they remained highly alert and resolved to stay out of the conflict if possible, hoping to avoid being drawn into this battle, it was as if an invisible hand was manipulating events from behind the scenes.

Soon, for various reasons, tensions erupted, the conflict intensified, and finally, a full-scale fight broke out between the two families.

This gradually escalated into a multi-family brawl—

The entire Seven Hills became a battlefield.

Within the city of Rome, the gates remained closed for days.

Citizens huddled inside, terrified to step outside, fearing that they'd be struck down by the blood-crazed private soldiers of the Roman nobility.

And, of course, Night had played no small part in stoking these flames.

Many of the "private soldiers" attacking rival families were, in fact, retired soldiers he had sent disguised as mercenaries.

The speed with which both sides descended into civil war was suspicious, the whole situation barely withstood scrutiny.

But the two bloodthirsty factions were far beyond calming down to analyze anything now.

As Night put it: "When the blade is coming down on your head, never mind if it's someone's plot—just strike back at the fool in front of you. That's what clears the mind."

The Gracchi brothers, hugging each other and trembling, could only watch in awe, cheering with astonishment,

"Bravo, bravo, bravo!"

What else could they expect from Night?

They felt that calling him "the last hero of Rome" didn't quite fit—or perhaps, in a way, it did.

"The last dark hero of Rome" would be more accurate, wouldn't it?

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