Why are all of us who transmigrated at the same time demons?

He then led 1,500 troops to ambush on the left side of the mountain. The next day, the army marched out to face the enemy head-on. The Yellow Turbans met them in battle, and after a short while, the commander led his troops to retreat. The Yellow Turbans pursued them, and just as they crossed the mountain ridge, Kamathus's ambush troops emerged. The commander, Mo, turned back and attacked again. With attacks from both sides, the Yellow Turbans were routed.

Carmatus became famous for his extraordinary feats and was adopted by Caracalla.

"Something's wrong. Nine out of ten things are wrong."

Inside the Governor's Mansion of the Northern Frontier Province, the current Governor of the Northern Frontier, Duke Loran Octlius Tyrcius of the North, sat on a large chair covered with local precious carpets, enjoying the warm fireplace light in the luxurious office.

As for the former governor, the Duke of the North, where did he go? Loran could only say that when he led the flying legion during the campaign against the barbarians, his adoptive father's illegitimate son made a misjudgment, thinking that the barbarians were nothing special, and thus underestimated the enemy and was killed by the barbarians.

His adoptive father was heartbroken by the death of his son and soon passed away. According to the imperial succession law, Loran naturally inherited the title of Duke of the North. By bribing the court, he soon obtained the position of governor.

As for those who opposed his succession, such as his foster mother, it can only be said that the barbarians were cruel. When they were defeated on the battlefield, they sent assassins to kill him. However, Loran's personal martial arts were unparalleled. How could he be harmed by petty villains? Some of his family members were caught in the crossfire of the assassination attempt and unfortunately died, which is extremely saddening!

Believe it or not, you have to believe me outwardly.

Otherwise, there will be no mercy shown under the halberd!

Loran rested his chin on his hand, looking at the fateful story written on the papyrus by the pen of destiny, utterly bewildered.

"I really wanted to write the story of Liu Bei and Zhang Fei, but what about Guan Yu and Zhang Fei? What about the Oath of the Peach Garden? Oh, it seems there's no Peach Garden in Upper Minya. We may not have a Peach Garden, but we have plenty of Pine Gardens! If we can't have the Oath of the Peach Garden, we can have the Oath of the Pine Garden!"

"And why does Liu Bei, the Golden Flower Emperor, have a Gypsy adoptive father? Hmm... Liu Bei seems to look down on Gypsies? That makes sense, discriminating against Gypsies is politically correct in the empire."

"Damn! This script looks familiar?"

"Born into a prestigious family, his mother remarried, he was favored by his adoptive father, a wealthy merchant from a lowly race, and eventually joined the army. Isn't this the great Third Reich Air Marshal Meyer?"

"And what's with the idea that he eventually recognized the governor as his adoptive father because of his bravery in battle? Liu Bei, I never thought you'd actually get a part of the Fengxian storyline?"

"Then who am I?"

"Hmm... Judging from his status and experience, he is a brave warrior, of humble origin, has made many connections with powerful figures, and has also befriended many barbarian tribes. Moreover, he has risen to the position of a high-ranking official on the frontier. In my script, it seems that this is..."

"I've actually become Dong Zhuo?"

"Damn it! Why did my destiny script veer off course like this?"

"Damn it! Who changed my script?"

Chapter 246 The Godfather's Game: The Imperial Brother-in-Law's Plot to Kill the Freed Slaves, and the Elder's Selfish Motives Bring Disaster

In August, in the city of Ebiscrajaya, the heatwave seemed to be a tangible thing, pressing heavily on Wolf Hill, and even the turbid steam from the great river was powerless to dispel this suffocating heat.

Deep within the palace of Mount Saint Lamp, the coffin of the late Emperor Quintus Aurelius rests in the Temple of Vestaje, where even the scent of spices cannot mask the power vacuum left by his death.

The young Gaius Aurelius Augustus, draped in an excessively heavy purple robe, mechanically repeated the high priest's prayers before the altar of the Temple of the Father.

His voice sounded particularly thin under the magnificent dome, and his eyes were unfocused, like a boy who had wandered into a theater of gods.

Before this, when faced with the elders' probing questions about succession and the future, the priests of the Temple of the Sun no longer gave clear divine guidance as before. Instead, they worriedly mentioned that the way the flames burned during recent sacrifices was "not very clear" and the patterns on the animal entrails were "full of variables."

This ambiguity is itself like a divine oracle, hinting at divine displeasure and future chaos.

This uncertainty has exacerbated the unease among various factions and made them more inclined to take extreme measures to ensure their own safety.

In the shadows beneath the altar, Mara Agrippa, commander of the Royal Guard, gripped the eagle emblem on the hilt of his short sword, his thick brows furrowed.

His imposing figure resembled a statue of a war god, but an anxiety that clashed with the sacred and solemn scene was emanating from him in subtle ways.

“Look at him,” Mara whispered to Consul Sextus beside him, his voice metallic, “like a frightened rabbit. He has not half the spirit of his father.”

Sextus, an old nobleman known for his wisdom and prudence, turned slightly to the side, his robes remaining perfectly still: "Give him time, Marcus. After all, he's only seventeen and has just lost his father."

"Time?" Mara sneered through gritted teeth, his sharp gaze sweeping over the figure standing not far behind the emperor—Oulus, the freed slave, the head of the Sacred Bedroom, and the leader of the Court Five.

“Did you see those vultures around Livia? Especially that Aurus, who dared to ‘question’ my proposed legion supply plan in the Senate corridor yesterday.” He deliberately emphasized the last two words, as if they were something filthy.

The ceremony ended in a somber atmosphere.

That evening, in a secluded room overlooking the Roman Forum in the Palace of Santa Lucia, Queen Mother Livia dismissed all her attendants, leaving only her brother. She had shed her daytime majesty, her fingers anxiously twirling a delicate silk handkerchief.

“Mara, I received a letter today from that man from the Julius family.” She got straight to the point, her voice low. “He used respectful language, but his meaning was clear. He is willing to fully support us, but demands that after any ‘internal troubles’ are quelled, the mining tax rights of the Lower Minia province be completely transferred to his legion’s administration.”

Mara abruptly stood up, the leather breastplate inlaid with bronze plates clanging loudly: "That greedy old bastard? Who does he think he is? Does he think he's worthy to negotiate with us? All we need to do is keep the Royal Guard firmly under control..."

“Control?” Livia interrupted him, a hint of weariness and sharpness flashing in her eyes. “Are you sure all the Royal Guards are loyal to only you? Mara, you’re far too arrogant!”

Mara's face darkened, like the sky before a storm.

He paced back and forth in frustration: "These parasites! Do they think they can live off the heart of the empire forever by flattering and fawning? Aurus is nothing but a freed slave. The late emperor treated him with some courtesy, and he really thinks he's someone important!"

“He was the late emperor’s most trusted ‘Holy Bedroom Commander.’ Count Vebius of Saint Ku and Count Likiel of Private Property were on his side, and even the Imperial Guard had people close to him,” Livia reminded, her tone regaining its usual calm. “For more than a decade, he was in charge of royal affairs, the national treasury archives, and assisted in handling the empire’s daily administration. Without him, our decrees wouldn’t even leave Mount Saint Lamp.”

"Mara, you need to calm down. Maintaining your balance is the key."

“Balance?” Mara stopped and stared at her sister, the current Empress Dowager. “Sister, the current balance is that they are becoming more and more presumptuous, while we are constantly giving in! The late emperor is gone, and they will no longer obediently listen to us! We must make it clear to them who is in charge now!”

The siblings' argument yielded no results, but cracks had already begun to quietly grow within the core power structure.

Mara did not see the deeper worry that his sister Livia showed in her eyes after he left—she was worried not only about the freed slaves, but also about her brother who held great power and was becoming increasingly domineering.

A few days later, the debate over the selection of a governor-general for a wealthy emperor's province reached a fever pitch in a lounge of the Senate.

Mara Agrippa said to Livia and Gaius in an unquestionable tone, "Lucius must get this position. We need our own people to control the army and finances there; that's the bottom line."

Aurus stood a little further away, his face calm and composed, holding a roll of parchment documents in his hand.

He bowed slightly, his tone respectful yet unwavering: "Your Majesty, Empress Dowager, Your Excellency. According to the evaluation system established by the late Emperor and the conventions of provincial governance, General Lucius's qualifications are still insufficient, and he may not be able to command the respect of the people. The Senate prefers to recommend someone with more experience..."

"The Senate?!" Mara abruptly interrupted him, his voice like a hammer blow on the marble floor. "Are we listening to the Senate or the Emperor? Or are you, a freed slave, making decisions on behalf of the Emperor?!"

His gaze was like two knives, slicing through Aulus before finally settling on Livia and young Gaius, his eyes filled with questioning and impatience.

At that moment, Livia's heart sank. What she saw was no longer her brother thinking of the empire's best interests, but rather "demanding" and attempting to "dominate" the highest decision-making.

He challenged not only Aurus's authority, but also Livia's authority as the head of the Agrippa family and the Empress Dowager, and Emperor Gaius's final decision-making power.

He seemed to be declaring, "With me and my sword here, all you need to do is nod."

This is the bottom line that Livia absolutely cannot accept.

Young Gaius was pale. Faced with his uncle's domineering attitude, he moved his lips a few times, but in the end, he didn't say anything. He just looked at his mother for help.

Aurus wisely remained silent, bowing his head slightly, leaving the stage entirely to the internal conflict within the royal family.

After the unpleasant meeting, Mara's anger burned fiercely at the residence of the commander of the Guards.

He growled at his trusted officers, "Did you see that? A freed slave dared to contradict me in front of the Emperor! And those old foxes in the Senate, saying one thing to your face and another behind your back! If this empire isn't cleaned up soon, it'll rot completely!"

Just then, a guard announced that the senior elder Basas Fabian had arrived.

Bassas Fabian, born into one of the most illustrious families of the Plantagenets, had students and former officials throughout the provinces of the empire. He was elegant in demeanor and witty in conversation, but his deep eyes always concealed an unfathomable calculation.

Several years earlier, it was he who used his influence in the Senate to help Loran, who had just inherited the title of Duke of the North, secure the important position of Governor-General of the Northern Frontier. In the political ethics of the Plantagenets, Loran was considered his "protected person".

“Commander of the Praetorian Guard,” Barthus said, dismissing the others and sitting down opposite Mara at a table covered with maps, his voice heavy, “please forgive my bluntness. We have all seen that Rome is being controlled by a bunch of scoundrels.”

“Aulus, a freed slave, dares to so openly defy you, the commander of the Royal Guard, and the authority of the Senate! If this continues, where will the Emperor's dignity be? Where will the order of the Empire be?”

These words were like a bucket of oil poured on Mara's burning anger. He slammed his fist on the table, making the map scroll jump: "I really want to use my sword to sweep away all the filth on Mount Saint Lamp!"

"No, sir, absolutely not!" Bassas waved his hands repeatedly, feigning concern. "Mobilizing the Royal Guard on a large scale in the capital would easily give others ammunition and trigger even more uncontrollable unrest. Moreover..."

He deliberately lowered his voice and leaned forward, "As far as I know, the Imperial Guard is not a monolithic entity. The Third and Fourth Battalions have close ties with the Five Members of the Court, and many officers in the other battalions also have their own agendas. If you force this through, it may cause internal strife."

Mara fell silent. Bassas's words struck at the deepest anxieties and feelings of powerlessness within him. He only truly controlled the First and Second Battalions, a constraint imposed on him by the late Emperor Quintus that had persisted to this day.

He possessed supreme military command, but he was unable to effectively mobilize this force to achieve his political goals.

Barthus observed his expression and knew the time was right before he unleashed his carefully prepared scheme: "Sir, what you need is not a blade that might hurt you, but a 'heavy hammer' from the outside that is absolutely obedient."

“The Governor of the Northern Frontier, Loran Octlius Tyrcius,” Barthus’s voice was full of allure. “He is a loyal and reliable soldier, and more importantly, he is ‘completely trustworthy.’”

"That barbarian from the east? A brute who got a title by sheer luck?" Mara's disdain was palpable.

Barthus was not annoyed that his words had been forcibly interrupted and refuted. He smiled and said, "Sir, it is precisely because he is a shallow barbarian and a brainless brute that he is easy to control, isn't it?"

"Although he is barbaric and crude, his legions are indeed powerful. As long as his legions appear outside the city of Rome, without even actually fighting, it will be enough to make the freed slaves and their allies in the Senate tremble with fear and beg for mercy. At that time, you can complete the purification and restore order with just a wave of your hand."

"And all the infamy and risks will be borne by that border governor. You and the Empress Dowager will be the only winners, reaping the benefits of pacifying the world without firing a single shot."

Mara was completely convinced.

He saw a shortcut that seemed easy and convenient, without the risk of internal infighting.

He could almost see the banners of the northern army waving, the likes of Aurus turning pale, even his sister, the Empress Dowager, falling silent in fear, and himself becoming the hero who saved Plantagenet from "treacherous officials," his power unmatched.

He was completely absorbed in this wonderful illusion, ignoring the fleeting, cold glint in Bassas's eyes—the kind of look that belonged to a chess player—and the hidden gaze that seemed to regard him as a fool.

Chapter 247 The Godfather's Game: The Grand Tutor Enters the Capital for a Double Kill, Fengtian Pacification Go Go Go!

Mara was unaware that his secret talks with Bassas, as well as the messengers he subsequently sent to the northern frontier, had not escaped the reach of Aurus’s invisible yet highly efficient intelligence network.

When the secret report about "summoning foreign troops to the capital" was quickly delivered to Livia, the Empress Dowager's face turned deathly pale.

“He’s gone mad…he’s really gone mad…” Livia muttered to herself, her knuckles turning white from the force of her grip. “Bringing barbarians like Loran into Ebiscraja? Does he think the empire isn’t destroyed fast enough?!”

Oulus stood aside, his expression more solemn than ever before: "Your Excellency, this is no longer a power struggle, but a matter of life and death. Duke Loran of the North is a true wolf. Once his legion sets foot in Ebiscraja, he will not be content to be merely a henchman. At that time, whether it is the Commander, us, or even the entire Senate, we will all become meat on his chopping block."

Livia felt a chill run down her spine.

She had to choose between two terrible options: on one hand, her foolish brother who could destroy the existing order of the empire and bring about warlord rule; on the other hand, the freed-slave bureaucracy who could undermine imperial power but at least keep the imperial machinery running.

For the sake of her son Gaius's throne, to prevent the Aurelius family from becoming puppets of warlords, and even more so for her future glory and power, she had to stop Mara.

"What should we do?" Livia's voice trembled slightly, but her eyes were resolute.

“We must act first, mistress.” Aurus’s voice was calm to the point of cruelty. “The target is Commander Mara personally. Once he is eliminated, the guards will be leaderless and unable to form a unified force.”

"While the First and Second Battalions are certainly elite, we also have the allegiance of the Third and Fourth Battalions. You are the Holy Mother of Augustus, and you hold the power to win over other factions."

In the following days, a silent storm brewed within the Guards.

Using their influence and resources, Livia and Aurus secretly met with officers in the Janissaries who were loyal to the royal family or who might be deeply concerned about bringing foreign troops into the capital, especially the tribunals of the Third and Fourth Battalions who had close ties with the court, as well as some neutrals who were ambivalent but more inclined to maintain the status quo.

They revealed the immense risks of the Mara Plan—it would destroy the existing order, ruin the peace of the Empire, and utterly annihilate the Janissaries' transcendent status, reducing them to vassals of the Frontier Legion.

"Foolish Mara, what will we be after he leads the barbarian legions into Ebiscrajaya?" The tribunal of the Sixth Battalion, who was originally neutral, said angrily after hearing about Mara's plan.

Meanwhile, Mara was immersed in the excitement of victory in sight.

He even hinted triumphantly at a small officers' meeting that "big things are coming," and told his trusted confidants to "get ready." This further exacerbated the divisions and tensions within the Guards.

A fatal turning point soon arrived. Mara received another "earnest" summons from Livia, who hoped to have a "final, frank conversation" with him in order to save their sibling relationship and the future of the empire.

Full of confidence, Mara believed that his sister was finally going to give in. Ignoring Basas's desperate pleas, he took only a few personal guards and calmly stepped into the magnificent and familiar colonnade of the Holy Lamp Palace.

"This brat is not worth discussing anything with!" Barsas looked at Mara in exasperation, a hint of malice flashing in his eyes. "It seems we must speed up the process of the Loran Legion entering the city."

The golden rays of the setting sun shone through the high side windows, turning the marble columns a blood-red hue. Deep within the colonnade, shadows loomed.

Mara did not see Livia; instead, he was met by Nicomedes and behind him a line of guards with drawn swords and cold eyes—the insignia on their breastplates belonged to the Third Battalion.

Mara's heart sank, and his hand instantly pressed down on the hilt of his sword.

"Traitor Mara Agrippa," Aurus's voice echoed in the empty colonnade, devoid of any emotion, "you colluded with a foreign general, intending to lead troops into the capital and wreak havoc on the empire. Your crime deserves death! By order of the Holy Emperor and the Empress Dowager, you are here to be executed!"

"How dare you!" Mara roared, trying to draw his short sword, but his guards were quickly subdued by an enemy that far outnumbered them. "I am the commander of the Royal Guard! Livia is my sister! Gaius is my nephew!"

“It is precisely for the sake of the Emperor and the Empire,” Aurus interrupted him coldly, “that you, the greatest threat, must be eliminated.”

Without further ado, Aurus waved his hand lightly. The whistling sound of an arrow leaving the bowstring pierced the air, instantly drowning out Mara's roars and curses.

His burly body was pierced by several sharp arrows. He staggered a few steps and fell heavily to the ground.

Warm blood gushed from the wound and mouth, soaking the ornate floor, and even splashing a few drops onto the shrine of Ral, the patron saint of the household, next to the colonnade.

Until his very last moment, Mara Agrippa's eyes were filled with shock, anger, and disbelief. He died without understanding why things had come to this, why his sister would side with an "outsider" and kill him.

Mara's death was like igniting a giant powder keg in Rome.

Knowing that Mara was doomed, Barthus warned Mara's loyal guards before Mara was killed. The first and second battalions, along with other officers and soldiers, mutinied instantly, shouting slogans of revenge for their commander, and rushed towards the barracks of the third and fourth battalions.

This prevented the originally planned encirclement line from fully taking shape, but the opposing side still had the fourth, fifth, and sixth battalions, and the third battalion would also join the battle after dealing with Mara and his followers.

The First and Second Battalions truly lived up to their reputation as the elite of the Guards. Even when surrounded by four Guards battalions, they fought tenaciously, keeping the battle at a stalemate.

The entire capital was plunged into a terrible civil war, with fierce battles erupting in the streets and alleys, flames soaring into the sky, and shouts of killing and cries of agony filling the air.

The Senate was completely paralyzed, and the nobles shut their doors and trembled in fear.

Order has vanished, and the situation is extremely precarious!

Loran, who had made preparations long ago, set off before receiving the edicts from Mara and Basas.