Chapter 198: Nero Claudius Ascends the Throne
Caligula was destined to die.
Unlike Nero, who held only a fragment of Moon Cell Authority, Caligula had been directly gazed upon. His connection ran too deep. The volume of information he touched, trivial compared to Moon Cell itself, still far exceeded what a human mind could bear.
Even Mars, restored to a machina god body and carrying power worthy of a divine king, had hesitated to brush against that overflow. How could Caligula's mortal brain endure it?
And yet Rowe still granted him dignity at the end.
Even though Rowe could have ended it cleanly. Even though he could have killed Caligula and seized the Authority outright.
Rowe did not mind making things troublesome.
Trouble had texture. Danger had flavor.
There was a particular amusement in walking toward the edge on purpose.
In that moment, the calm and lucid Caligula stared at Rowe, who looked young enough to be mistaken for a boy, and at the seriousness in his expression.
The young Roman Emperor could not help but laugh.
"Emperor… huh."
"Keh. Hahaha."
"Rome. So you are also Rome."
His gaze softened, and something like relief surfaced beneath the exhaustion.
"My ancestor, I entrust Rome to you. And Nero, I ask you to take care of her."
Caligula raised his hand.
At that moment, descendant and ancestor formed a covenant.
Rowe, who had crossed long centuries and countless lands, smiled.
"Yes. Leave it to me."
'Moon Cell Authority transfer…'
'Request approved.'
'Moon Cell Authority: one percent.'
"I leave it to you, my ancestor," Caligula said.
His body dispersed, turning into dust like smoke caught by a quiet wind.
The abyss like pressure of magical energy vanished without a trace.
He entered the Underworld as a rational Emperor.
Rowe lowered his hand and looked at the Seal of Kingship that had appeared on the back of it. For a rare moment, he was genuinely taken aback.
Only one percent.
"It seems I will need more preparation if I intend to pry open Moon Cell itself," Rowe murmured, closing his fingers slowly.
Nearby, Nero stared blankly at the dust where her uncle had been.
"Are you alright?" Rowe asked.
Nero blinked, then forced herself back to the present.
"Of course I am alright."
She smiled, small and bright, and the smile did not crack.
"At least Uncle disappeared as an Emperor. That is good, is it not?"
She was open minded. Or perhaps she had seen Caligula's madness too many times, and knew the pain hidden inside it.
Nero understood that Caligula reaching the Underworld with sanity intact was the best outcome he could be given.
"Thank you, Mister Rowe."
She thanked him with solemn sincerity, lifting the edge of her crimson skirt in a proper bow. Golden hair fluttered. Rosy lips parted slightly. The cowlick on her head swayed with the motion.
Rowe reached out and ruffled her hair.
"What are you saying? I am also Rome."
His voice carried a strange warmth, as if he were stating a fact that required no justification.
"You are all my descendants."
Rome had been founded on the will of a Sage. A spiritual inheritance. To Rowe, it outweighed blood.
"Hm?" Nero tilted her head, not resisting at all. Instead, she smiled with an earnest enthusiasm that made her seem younger than the crown she was about to inherit.
An ancestor of Rome.
"You truly are the person in my heart," she said, smile widening as if she had discovered a new favorite melody.
Then gears rumbled.
Mars approached, crimson plates shifting with each step.
"My Father, you have succeeded."
He paused, then continued with businesslike finality.
"Since you have achieved your goal, I should leave."
"Wait," Rowe said.
Mars halted.
"Mars. You are the guardian of the city of Rome, correct?"
"Yes."
Mars sounded puzzled, but answered without hesitation, as if reciting an identity that had been carved into him.
"I am the guardian of the Roman city state, the patron god of the Roman Empire, the god of fertility and plants, the guardian of livestock, fields, and farmers. I oversee land, kingship…"
It went on like a menu.
It had to be said, after Rowe's guidance long ago, Mars had gained things Ares never possessed. He was no longer only brute force and impulse. He had become a god king.
And Rowe could feel it.
This was not Mars's end.
Rome would endure for a long time. The concept of Rome would extend into later generations. As the guardian god of Rome, Mars could eventually qualify for a true supreme seat and reach the primordial.
That was why Mars was grateful. It was a rebirth. Without it, he would never have acknowledged Rowe as Father willingly.
Unfortunately, Mars also knew Rowe's personality too well.
"You are not about to start another scheme, are you?"
"Am I that kind of person?" Rowe lifted an eyebrow.
Mars's expression, as much as a machina face could express, turned solemn.
"You are."
Rowe nodded as if praised.
"You guessed correctly. Now let me show you my scheme."
He lifted his hand and slapped Mars on the chest plate.
Silence.
Mars did not flinch. It did not hurt. It did, however, feel humiliating.
Rowe continued as if nothing happened.
"Now that Caligula is dead, how can an empire this vast lack a Chief Magistrate? How can it lack an Emperor?"
"Emperor…"
Rome had a complete system. Emperor at the top, Senate beneath, citizens and offices below them in ordered tiers.
The Emperor, the First Magistrate, was indispensable. The hammer that decided the major matters.
Mars's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Do you have a candidate?"
No matter what, Rowe was a true wise man. A name that had echoed across nations for a thousand years. If he proposed someone, it would be someone suitable.
Nero leaned in too, emerald eyes bright with curiosity.
"A Roman Emperor? I wonder what sort of talent Rowe will choose."
Nero loved Rome. Caligula had loved Rome. She wanted a worthy person to lead this free and passionate nation.
Rowe raised his hand and pointed.
"Of course I have a candidate. It is her."
Mars followed the finger to the petite yet undeniably developed girl in red.
He fell into thought.
Nero also fell into thought.
Who?
Me?
Wait.
"Wait. Are you referring to me?" Nero blurted, shocked and disbelieving.
"That is right, Nero Claudius," Rowe said, clapping once with quiet satisfaction.
"You are Caligula's niece. It is only natural for you to become the Roman Emperor."
He continued, voice smooth, giving her reasons she could accept.
"On our way here, I saw your courage and responsibility. Even when you were afraid, you tried to protect me. That alone is worth admiring."
Those were not the true reasons.
The truth was simpler and colder.
Nero possessed Kingship granted by Moon Cell. A fragment taken from Caligula, then fused into her. Nero's compatibility was higher than Caligula's. Otherwise it would not have merged so completely.
Rowe intended to cultivate her, just as the history he knew. To let Kingship nourish Kingship, to tighten her connection, to raise Authority.
Only then could he use that Authority to seize Moon Cell's computational power.
Nero did not know.
Mars did not know either.
Mars, guardian of Rome, pondered only a moment before nodding.
"Good. My Father, I will listen."
Then his tone turned serious.
"But before that, My Father, news of your arrival will spread quickly."
Rowe fell silent and nodded.
Those Greek goddesses from the past. Their grievances were always tangled in ways that were difficult to explain, and worse to resolve.
Rowe was not troubled.
He had prepared himself the moment he stepped onto this land.
"That is good," Mars said, almost approvingly. "As expected of my Father. You always handle such matters with ease."
"I feel like you are mocking me."
"No. I am being open and honest."
Father and friend, at once.
Mars's attitude was clear, and Rowe found it comfortable.
So the god of the land, the one who oversaw kingship, laughed and pointed at Nero.
"In the name of Mars, I designate you as the next Roman Emperor."
"Hm?"
Nero blinked, still processing.
"Hm!!?"
She became Emperor like that?
In her early years, she had lived among commoners. After Caligula rose, she had lived in the palace. Even so, the imperial seat should have had nothing to do with her.
She was not Caligula's heir.
Caligula had never trained her as successor.
So why?
A voice, calm and close, answered her.
"Because your wisdom and courage have gained Rome's recognition."
Nero returned to herself and saw the palace before her.
Countless figures stood waiting.
Rowe stood near her in that eternal linen robe, present like a quiet constant.
Only then did Nero realize.
Two days had passed.
Two days since Mars and Rowe had jointly designated her Emperor. In those two days, she had stared at the ceiling, stared at the sky, stared at her own hands, thinking until thought became fog.
Time slipped by anyway.
And now, before her, was the investiture ceremony of the First Magistrate of the Roman Empire.
The First Magistrate was the Emperor.
They were equivalent.
Caligula's death had been sudden, but Mars's divine oracle forced order to reassemble quickly. Rome did not pause long. The ceremony came two days later.
They stood in the hall of the Assembly of Citizens.
Rome was a continuation of Greece, in belief and in system. The Assembly, inherited from the era of city states, still carried weight.
If nothing else, symbolic weight.
And so, nominally, the investiture still required the Assembly's witness.
Senators watched from the front rows.
Citizens filled the seats behind them.
All eyes gathered on the new Emperor.
"Go," Rowe said, looking at Nero. "Do not tell me the counseling I gave you was meaningless."
It was natural for a young girl to be overwhelmed by a throne dropped into her lap. Over the past two days, Rowe had done what he could to reduce the pressure inside her.
Nero inhaled slowly. Her chest rose and fell. Then she smiled.
"Hmph. It certainly was not meaningless."
"I will not back down."
The position came suddenly, but Nero would not throw it away.
"I once only wanted to be a perfect Roman artist, one who could perform in the theaters."
She lifted her chin.
"But since I can become Emperor…"
"Then I too will become a perfect Emperor."
Light spilled down from above, dazzling.
From a distance, many could not see her expression clearly, but Rowe, standing close, saw everything.
Nero wore attire more magnificent than ever. Roses patterned her crimson skirt in countless layers. Her waist was cinched, making her posture appear even more disciplined. Her figure was petite and graceful, yet her presence was confident, noble, and passionate.
"Umu."
She spread her hands.
"I am Nero Claudius."
"I love Rome. I love this land. I love the free and passionate Romans. I love the sun above, and roses in bloom."
Then, voice firm, she declared the only promise she truly needed.
"Because I am Rome."
She did not offer a grand blueprint. She did not make impossible vows.
But the posture, the confidence, the passion, pulled the room's attention toward her like gravity.
Applause followed.
The coronation portion began. An attendant brought the imperial crown, a replica of the one worn by Romulus, founder of Rome, and symbol of every Emperor's authority.
But Nero did not reach for it.
She looked at Rowe instead.
"You are not going to help me?"
Her smile turned strange, playful, and just a little sharp.
"This throne was given by you, was it not?"
Rowe paused.
To everyone else, he was invisible. He had placed Nero on the throne, but he had not decided what role he would take within Rome's history.
In that moment, the girl pushed him into a decision.
Rowe took the crown.
To the crowd, it floated on its own and rose slowly.
"Rome!"
"Rome above, is this the recognition of the gods?"
"No. This is the recognition of Rome!"
The senators exclaimed. Citizens widened their eyes.
Nero pressed her lips together and smiled.
She lifted her skirt and bowed slightly.
Letting Rowe crown her.
Letting the Father of Rome crown her as Emperor.
"From this day forth," a voice declared, and the room breathed as one.
"You are the Emperor of Rome."
Everyone saw the shadow of Rome's Father.
Then Nero straightened.
"And now I will issue my first command as Emperor of Rome."
She turned, reached out, and grabbed Rowe's hand.
"Rowe."
"Be my Adjutant."
Her emerald eyes blinked, bright with stubborn certainty.
You pushed me into this position.
Do not even think about running away.
…
"The coronation ceremony of the Roman Emperor has ended," a voice said.
Above Rome, in the Pantheon, gods watched the human world below.
Jupiter stood pale and tall, beard and hair like a lion's mane, resembling the human terminal of Zeus from the old myths.
"Is it really him? Rowe…"
Mars rotated his crimson body and answered with a low hum.
Jupiter's gaze remained fixed on the ceremony far below.
"Jupiter, do you hate him?"
"Why would I hate him?"
Jupiter's voice was calm, almost amused.
"I should thank him, like you, Mars. If he had not killed Zeus, I would likely never have been born."
"Indeed," Mars said.
Jupiter continued, as if speaking of weather.
"Speaking of which, she should be returning."
"Athena," Mars said, understanding immediately.
Jupiter was not Zeus, but he was Zeus's continuation. Athena had suffered under Zeus's schemes. Strictly speaking, they could be called enemies.
"You may not be her match," Mars said with a wry edge, "but she will not act against you. That would not align with Wisdom. Do not worry."
He shifted, gaze sharpening.
"Instead, focus on other matters."
"Matters that genuinely threaten our rule in the human world."
Jupiter's eyes narrowed.
"Are you referring to the Holy Church?"
.....
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