Chapter 17:
The delegation arrived at dawn, their war horns blaring through Rome's gates.
Gauls. Britons. Germans. Even a sun-darkened Numidian chieftain. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the Forum, their boots caked with the mud of a dozen nations, their demands etched onto a shield in fractured Latin:
"FOOTBALL BELONGS TO ALL. PROVE IT."
Lucius, still groggy from the previous night's victory feast, squinted at the message. The system translated:
[Ultimatum Received:
- Tribal teams demand inclusion in a "World Cup"
- Stakes: If Rome wins, they adopt standardized rules
- If tribes win, they take control of the league
Threat Level: This is either globalization or war]
Behind him, Nikias groaned. "Why can't they just send a scroll like civilized people?"
Nero, of course, adored the drama.
He descended from his litter wearing a football kit stitched from purple silk, a lyre strapped to his back. "A global tournament! I'll compose the anthem!" He plucked a discordant note. "O football, glorious football, your balls are round and—"
The Vestal acolyte cut him off with a strategic cough. "Divine One, perhaps we should focus on the rules first?"
The proposed structure was chaos:
- Gauls wanted mead-fueled 50-a-side matches
- Germans demanded armor be allowed
- Numidians insisted on horseback play
The system's compromise was brutal:
[Solution: Hybrid Tournament
Phase 1: Regional qualifiers (local rules)
Phase 2: Final four (Roman rules)
Catch: Nero gets to add "one surprise element"]
As negotiations continued, a withered priestess from Delphi slithered into the chamber, her clouded eyes fixed on Lucius.
"Beware the ball that divides nations," she croaked. "When the eagle drops the olive branch, the dream dies in fire."
Then she collapsed, foaming at the mouth.
The system's analysis was unhelpful:
[Oracle Translation:
- 40% literal warning
- 30% poetic nonsense
- 30% possible indigestion]
Nikias nudged the body with his foot. "Do we… bury her?"
"No," said the Vestal acolyte. "We win."
The regional matches were less football and more cultural warfare:
LIn Gaul:
- The pitch was a hillside tilted at 45 degrees
- Halftime featured a barrel-rolling contest
- FC Roma won by getting fewest players concussed (3-2)
In Germania:
- Players wore light armor and spiked cleats
- The ball was replaced with a boar's bladder
- Vulso headbutted a chieftain mid-tackle (Final: 1-1, decided by arm-wrestling)
In Numidia:
- The horseback match devolved into a stampede
- Nikias scored by drop-kicking the ball from a galloping stallion
- Nero, observing, declared it "the future of sport"
Through it all, the system tracked the tribal players' strengths:
[Tribal Talent Identified:
- Gaulish "Mead Madness" trait (+5 strength, -8 coordination)
- Germanic "Berserker Charge" (unstoppable for 10 seconds)
- Numidian "Dune Dribble" (sand doesn't slow them)]
The night before the finals, Decimus struck.
His agents poisoned the grain supply meant for tribal feasts, leaving half the Gauls bedridden. The Germans found their armor replaced with brittle wood. The Numidians' horses were fed laxatives.
The system's alert was furious:
[Sabotage Detected:
- Player readiness: Critical
- Decimus's location: Unknown
Recommended Response: Adapt or forfeit]
Lucius adapted.
He recruited:
- Drunken Gauls from a nearby tavern
- Bare-chested Germans who needed no armor
- Vestal acolytes(on loan from Ceres's temple) as emergency riders
Nero, delighted by the chaos, added *his* surprise:
Lion cubs.
"They're harmless!" he insisted, as one gnawed on a German's boot.
The Circus Maximus hosted the insanity. Tribesmen and Romans stood side-by-side as Nero conducted a screeching anthem. The "ball" was a hybrid: Roman leather, Gaulish mead-infused stitches, Numidian sand counterweights.
The match was brutal beauty:
- First Half: Germans used their Berserker Charge to smash through defenses (1-0)
- Second Half: The Vestal acolyte scored from horseback, her robes fluttering (1-1)
- Overtime: A mead-drunk Gaul headbutted the ball and a lion cub (2-2)
Then—Nikias.
The Greek, half-starved from Decimus's grain plot, stole the ball at midfield. Dodging Germans, Gauls, and confused lions, he *flipped* over the Numidian keeper to tap in the winner.
3-2.
Rome erupted. Tribesmen lifted Nikias onto their shoulders. Nero ordered fireworks.
And the Delphic oracle's corpse (still unburied) spontaneously combusted in the temple.
The system's final message was triumphant:
[World Cup Aftermath:
- Tribal integration: Successful
- Decimus's reputation: Ruined (evidence planted)
- New Problem:
- Nero now wants *gladiator-football hybrids*
- The tribes demand revenge matches
- That lion cub followed Nikias home]
As the sun set, Lucius stared at the chaos—Gauls singing, Germans arm-wrestling Vestals, Nero composing a second anthem.