The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe
Chapter 97 Cornelius

Chapter 97: Chapter 97 Cornelius

When Cornelius was led into the grand Senate chamber by armed soldiers, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursed through his entire body.

According to the calendar of that time, For nearly half a year, Amendolara had been under the yoke of the Lucanians, and Cornelius’s life had been nothing short of a waking nightmare. Each day, under the watchful and menacing eyes of his captors, he herded cattle, chopped wood, and hauled supplies. Any sign of weakness or hesitation was met with cruel reprimands—at best, harsh scolding; at worst, beatings or starvation.

Nights were no better. Locked within the Temple of Thunder divine Zeus alongside a thousand of his fellow citizens, he endured squalor unimaginable. The air was thick with the stench of sweat and waste, the cries of children, and the lamentations of the despairing. The space was cramped, the food scarce, and the spirits of the people crushed. Illness and death were constant companions, claiming lives daily.

For Cornelius, as for many others, hope had long since faded. He had resigned himself to this torment, believing he would one day slip quietly into the underworld, his suffering finally ended.

Yet yesterday, something had changed. The Lucanians had ordered the people to prepare carts and load supplies. Even the typically brutal warriors lent their strength to the task, their expressions tense and hurried. Whispers spread among the imprisoned citizens: the mighty Lucanian coalition had been annihilated by a band of Greek mercenaries.

Greek mercenaries...

The rumors brought a flicker of hope to the broken spirits of Amendolara’s people. That night, faint sounds of distant battle reached their ears. Gathering near the temple doors, they pressed their faces against the cracks, straining to glimpse the outside world.

The Lucanian guards were visibly shaken, their shouts frantic. Words in their guttural tongue, deciphered by some among the citizens, carried shocking news: "The Greeks have breached the city l! "

Hope surged through the people of Amendolara like wildfire. Galvanized by hatred and desperation, the magistrate Glatebaflo rallied the citizens. They broke through the temple doors, their bare hands wielding stones and whatever they could grasp. Overwhelmed by the sudden fury of their captives, the demoralized Lucanian guards fel lL.

But the battle was far from over. As the freed citizens poured into the streets, they encountered a contingent of Lucanian warriors—those who had fled the Greeks’ assault and now sought to use the prisoners as hostages.

Unarmed and frail, the citizens were no match for these seasoned fighters. Yet, having tasted the sweetness of freedom and spurred by the hope of imminent salvation, they refused to yield. Tragedy unfolded as Glatebaflo fell, followed by the bravest among them.

The Lucanians, enraged and bloodthirsty, prepared to slaughter the survivors. But before the fatal blow could fall, a roar of bronze and steel filled the air. The Greek mercenaries had arrived.

In full view of the trembling citizens, these warriors swept through the enemy like a storm. The once terrifying Lucanians were cut down, forced to their knees, or routed entirely.

And then, to the astonishment of Amendolara’s people, these fearsome soldiers approached not with scorn but with compassion. They offered clean bedding, steaming bowls of porridge, and skilled doctors who tended to wounds with care. It was as if they had been plucked from the depths of hell and delivered into the Elysian Fields.

Cornelius wept openly, his gratitude boundless. He eagerly listened to the stories of the mercenaries—how they hailed from Asia Minor, their exploits in Persia, their miraculous march back to Greece, and their journey to Magna Graecia. Led by the young and extraordinary Juleios, these warriors had defied insurmountable odds time and again, their deeds as grand as the epics of old.

When Cornelius learned that Juleios wished to meet him, his heart leapt. He was eager to stand before the man revered as "Favored of the Divines," "Child of Miracles," and "Our Juleios."

As Cornelius entered the chamber, a broad smile greeted him. A young man strode forward, his hand outstretched. "Lord Cornelius!"

Startled, Cornelius hesitated. "And you are?"

The soldier who had escorted him spoke with pride. "This is our leader, Juleios!"

Cornelius was stunned. Though he had heard Juleios was young, he hadn’t expected someone so youthful, so approachable—so unlike the grizzled warlords he had imagined. For a moment, words failed him.

Juleios, meanwhile, studied the elder with keen interest. Cornelius was a man of stature, his lineage tracing back to Amendolara’s founding over two centuries ago. Despite his current frailty, he was known for his kindness and integrity—a reputation that had made him a respected figure among his people. It was precisely why Juleios had chosen him for this meeting.

"I heard you were injured last night," Juleios said, his tone warm. "How are you feeling now?"

Cornelius touched the bandage on his abdomen. "Much better, thanks to your doctors. Their skill is extraordinary. Leader Juleios, if not for your arrival, we would have been doomed. I owe you my life."

Juleios’s heart clenched slightly. He had delayed his attack the previous night, ensuring the Lucanians inflicted heavy losses on the freed citizens before his arrival. It was a calculated decision, one that weighed heavily on his conscience.

"Well," Juleios said, clearing his throat, "Lord Cornelius, I’ve asked to see you today to share some important news. We will soon be leaving."

Cornelius’s face fell. "Why?"

"The Lucanians may be weakened, but they remain a formidable force. Potentia is rumored to be rallying to Grumentum’s aid. Meanwhile, Thurii has summoned us to help defend their city. We cannot linger."

Cornelius’s eyes clouded with worry. "But what will become of Amendolara?"

Juleios’s gaze softened. "That is why I called for you. Amendolara’s people must decide its future. With your leadership, I believe the city can rise again."

Cornelius’s heart swelled with a mixture of fear and hope. For the first time in months, he felt the weight of responsibility—and the faint glimmer of a brighter tomorrow.