Chapter 13:
The morning air smelled of fresh-cut grass and roasted chestnuts as Lucius walked through the newly rebuilt Campum Ludus. The scars of rebellion were still visible—charred patches on the walls, a few broken benches not yet replaced—but the pitch itself was pristine, the white chalk lines glowing in the dawn light.
The system's alert flickered warmly:
[Season Kickoff: Day 1
Teams Ready: 18
Stadiums Operational: 6 (Rome, Ostia, Capua, Tibur, Antium, Praeneste)
League Stability: 78% (Decimus-related threats pending)]
Nikias limped up beside him, still favoring the ribs he'd cracked during the riots. "Think they'll actually follow the rules this time?"
Before Lucius could answer, a shout echoed across the field.
"Lucius!"
Julia Antonia stormed toward them, a scroll clutched in her fist. "The Palatine Eagles have bribed half the referees. The Ostia Dockers are threatening to walk out over the new substitution rules. And someone—" She thrust the scroll at him. "—has entered a team of bears."
Lucius unrolled the missive.
"To the Magna Ludus Council: Please find enclosed the registration for Ursa Roma FC (Sponsored by the Temple of Diana). Our players are very enthusiastic. Kindly advise on cleat sizes for paws."
The system pinged:
[New Team Application:
- Species: Brown bears (5)
- Strengths: Unmatched physicality
- Weaknesses: Poor understanding of offside rule
Recommended Action: Reject (65% chance of mauling)]
Vulso, who had been listening, scratched his beard. "We could use them as goalkeepers."
The Circus Maximus had never seen such a spectacle.
Instead of gladiators or chariots, the arena floor was divided into four miniature pitches, where exhibition matches would run simultaneously. The Vestal Virgins—now official league stewards—paraded around the track carrying the new championship trophy: a silver football atop a marble plinth.
Nero, relegated to a spectator box like everyone else, sulked until Lucius presented him with an honorary "First Fan" wreath made of golden laurels. The emperor perked up immediately, especially when the Vestal acolyte whispered, "We saved special lions for your match next month."
Then the games began.
FC Roma vs. Briton Warriors was the main event, a rematch of their underground classic—but this time, with rules, referees, and (mostly) sober players. The Britons had replaced their war paint with proper kits, though their captain still wore blue stripes across his face "for luck."
The football was glorious.
No poison. No lions. Just ninety minutes of pure, unfiltered sport. Nikias, despite his injuries, danced through defenders like the old days. Vulso's thunderous tackles shook the stands. And when the Briton chieftain scored the winning goal in the 88th minute, the roar from the crowd was deafening.
Final score: 3-2.
As the teams shook hands, Lucius felt the system's quiet pulse:
[Achievement Unlocked: 'The Beautiful Game'
Reward: +100% League Legitimacy
New Research: Youth Academies (Start them young)]
The celebration lasted until sundown.
Lucius was halfway through his third cup of wine when the system flashed red:
[Threat Detected: Decimus has left his sickbed
Last Known Location: Senate archives
Probable Target: League financial records]
He found the patrician in the Tabularium, his nose still crooked from the Briton's kick, pouring over scrolls with a pair of hired scribes.
"Looking for something?" Lucius asked, leaning against the doorway.
Decimus didn't look up. "Every empire needs taxes, football man. Even yours." His finger traced a line of figures. "I'd wager Nero didn't actually exempt your players from the aurum coronarium."
The system confirmed:
[Legal Threat:
- Victory crown tax (unpaid on championship prizes)
- Potential penalty: 200% of league revenue
Recommended Action: Find loophole (or richer patron)]
Lucius smiled. "Good thing we're not an empire." He tossed a scroll at Decimus's feet—the Vestal-blessed league charter. "We're a religious order. Football is now officially a form of worship."
The scribes gasped. Even Decimus looked impressed.
"You gave your game to the gods?"
"To Vesta, specifically." Lucius tapped the seal. "And guess what's tax-exempt?"
As he walked away, the system's alert was almost cheerful:
[Crisis Averted:
- Decimus frustration level: Maximum
- League finances: Secure
- Vestal influence: Growing concerningly powerful]
The Greek was waiting at Lucius's door that night, his arms full of clay pots that smelled suspiciously like sulfur.
"I've fixed the flaming ball problem!" he announced, shoving a prototype into Lucius's hands.
It was... a football. Normal in every way.
Lucius turned it over. "Where's the fire?"
The alchemist grinned. "Exactly." He produced a small bronze whistle and blew.
The ball glowed—a soft, pulsing light that illuminated the entire street.
"No heat! No burns!" The Greek danced in place. "Just pure, harmless *lux football*!"
The system analyzed:
[Innovation: Self-Illuminating Ball
Pros:
- Night matches possible
- 0% chance of immolation
Cons:
- Requires rare Egyptian glow-worms
- Players may develop god complexes]
Lucius tossed the ball back. "We'll test it in the reserves first."
As the alchemist skipped away, Nikias groaned from his bedroll. "Why do I feel like we'll regret this?"
By month's end, football had become normal.
Children kicked makeshift balls in the alleys of the Subura. Senators debated offside rules in the baths. The Collegia Butchers and Mercury's Merchants played a derby so intense it required extra referees.
And Lucius?
He sat in the newly built league headquarters—a modest but clean office near the Forum—watching the first youth academy trials. Small boys and girls (and one very determined bear cub) chased glowing balls under the Vestal acolyte's watchful eye.
The system's final alert was simple:
[Season Progress: 12%
Next Milestone: Provincial Expansion
Enjoy the game.]
Somewhere outside, a crowd roared as someone scored.
Somewhere in Rome, Decimus plotted.
And somewhere beyond the horizon, the future of football stretched further than even Lucius could imagine.