With his new scar and prepared identity, the day arrived. Licinia had successfully arranged a meeting. Not with just anyone, but with the immensely powerful head of her family, a man whose name was whispered with fear and respect throughout Rome: Marcus Licinius Crassus.
Ulysses stared at his reflection in the bronze mirror. The man staring back was no longer a gladiator. His hair, once unruly, was now cut short and neat in the Roman style. He wore a clean white toga, the fabric heavy and alien on his shoulders. He looked like a nobleman. Almost.
"He's waiting," Licinia whispered from the doorway, her face a mix of excitement and anxiety.
Ulysses was led into a luxurious study within Licinia's villa. Crassus sat behind a large wooden desk, examining a papyrus scroll. He did not immediately lift his head when they entered, a subtle power play. Ulysses simply stood silently, waiting.
Finally, Crassus put down the scroll and looked at Ulysses. His eyes were sharp, holding an intelligence that was predatory and devoid of warmth. His gaze seemed to strip Ulysses bare, piercing through all his lies and pretenses.
"So," Crassus said, his voice calm yet weighty. "This is the champion who has captured my cousin's heart. 'Ulysses'."
"A name from the arena, Dominus," Ulysses replied respectfully. "My true name is Tiberius Acilius Ulixes."
"Acilius," Crassus repeated, his eyes narrowing. "An Equestrian family. I remember them. Loyal supporters of Sulla."
"My father was a Centurion, fallen at the Colline Gate," Ulysses said, repeating the story he had memorized.
Crassus leaned back in his chair. "A very heroic story. And very convenient. But a Centurion's son does not magically possess the skill to defeat five gladiators at once. Those are skills born of blood and sand, not books."
He knew. Of course, he knew. Crassus knew everything.
"Truth is what we agree upon, Dominus," Ulysses replied calmly, neither denying nor confirming.
A thin smile formed on Crassus's lips, a smile that held no humor, only calculation. He appreciated the audacity and intelligence. "Indeed," Crassus said. "And I will 'agree' with your story, on one condition."
He rose and walked towards a large map on the wall depicting the territory around Capua. "This slave rebellion, led by your former comrade, Spartacus, has become a nuisance. They attack farms and disrupt trade routes. Before I allow my name and the Licinius family name to be associated with yours, I want to see proof."
He pointed to a spot on the map. "There's a small group of rebels hiding in this forest. They are disrupting my grain supplies. I will give you command of fifty mercenaries. Crush them. Bring back the head of their leader."
This was his test. Not in the arena, but on a true battlefield.
"Do this," Crassus continued, his eyes sharp. "And I will personally acknowledge you as Tiberius Acilius Ulixes, and bless your marriage to Licinia."
He did not need to say what would happen if Ulysses failed.
Ulysses looked at the map, then back at Crassus. He showed no hesitation. He simply bowed his head. "As you wish, Dominus."
Crassus moved swiftly. The next day, Ulysses was already at a mercenary camp outside Capua. Fifty men stood before him. They were not disciplined legionaries. They were a hardened collection of veterans, mercenaries from various lands who fought for coin, not for the glory of Rome. Their gazes at him were filled with scorn and doubt. He was a new nobleman they had never heard of, given command over them.
Ulysses did not try to win them over with speeches. He simply unrolled a map on a table. "The rebel leader in this forest is named Theorus," Ulysses said, his voice calm and clear, cutting through their murmurs. "He is a former shepherd. He knows the terrain better than us. Attacking him directly would be foolish."
He looked at the mercenaries one by one. His Basic Psychology quickly read them. He saw who the unofficial leaders were, who merely followed the flow, and who were the most skeptical.
"We will not attack him," he continued. "We will make him come to us."
His Roman Military Tactics began to work. He explained his plan. A simple yet cunning strategy. He would send a small group as bait, luring the rebels out of the forest into an open area. Meanwhile, the rest of his forces would hide on either side, ready to execute a pincer maneuver once the rebels were caught in the trap.
One of the mercenaries, a large man with a scarred face, scoffed. "Bait? Who's going to be the worm, Lord?"
"I am," Ulysses replied without hesitation. "And the five fastest men you have."
Silence fell upon them. A commander willing to be bait. It was something they had never seen. A reluctant respect began to dawn in their eyes.
His plan worked perfectly. Ulysses and his five men lured Theorus and about thirty of his rebels out of the forest. The rebels, seeing their superior numbers, charged forward with premature shouts of victory.
As they were in the middle of the open field, Ulysses gave the signal.
The main mercenary force emerged from their hiding places on either side, forming a deadly crescent. The rebels were now trapped. Panic immediately spread among them.
Ulysses did not just give orders. He fought on the front lines. His 360-Degree Awareness made him a calm vortex of death amidst the chaos. He sensed every threat, dodged every stray arrow, and his sword always found openings in the enemy's defenses.
The battle was short and brutal. The mercenaries, now fighting with spirit at the sight of their competent commander, crushed the unorganized rebels.
Ulysses himself faced Theorus. The rebel leader fought with the ferocity of a desperate man. But Ulysses, with his Rapid Adaptation, easily read his every wild movement. With one efficient spinning motion, he disarmed Theorus and pressed his sword to the man's throat.
The battle was over. Victory was swift, with minimal casualties on his side. The mercenaries looked at their new commander with an entirely different gaze. A look of profound respect.
Ulysses beheaded Theorus. He had obtained proof of his victory. He had passed Crassus's test.
Ulysses returned to Crassus's villa, no longer a petitioner, but a victorious commander. He walked past the guards, who now looked at him with respect, and entered Crassus's study. Without a word, he placed a damp, foul-smsmelling sack onto the expensive marble table. He untied it, and Theorus's bearded head rolled out, its dead eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
Crassus looked at the head, then at Ulysses. A rare, thin smile, the smile of an investor seeing his investment pay off, formed on his lips.
"Tiberius Acilius Ulixes," Crassus said, using the full name for the first time. "You have proven that a warrior's blood indeed flows in your veins. You deserve your reward."
He motioned to Licinia, who had been waiting anxiously in the room. Licinia's face shone with relief and happiness. Crassus had given his blessing.
The marriage was not conducted with public grandeur but in a private ceremony attended by a handful of Capua's most powerful individuals. There was Ilithyia, who came as a witness. There was Aemilia, who stood beside her new husband, Lucius, Varro's younger brother. The young man looked awkward in his noble attire, dutifully playing his role as the "puppet husband."
Ulysses stood before Licinia. He wore the toga of a Roman citizen. The scar on his shoulder was now faint, a memory known only to those in the room. As they exchanged their vows, Ulysses played his part as a loving groom perfectly. His Basic Psychology continued to work, analyzing every glance and smile from his guests, mapping out the alliances and enmities in the room.
That night, in their luxurious bedchamber, Licinia looked at her new husband. "You did it," she whispered, her voice full of admiration. "You did the impossible."
Ulysses pulled her into an embrace. "We did it," he replied, before his lips devoured hers.
Their wedding night was a celebration of triumph. Their passion exploded without doubt or secrecy. This was no longer a forbidden rendezvous between a noblewoman and her slave lover. This was the union of two forces, two ambitions. He took her with the strength of a champion and the tenderness of a husband, claiming every inch of her body as his own. Every sigh and cry from Licinia was a confirmation of his new status.
As he climaxed within his wife, he knew that he had successfully locked down his first foundation.
The next morning, as dawn broke over Capua, Ulysses stood on the balcony of his villa. He was no longer a gladiator fighting for his life. He was Tiberius Acilius Ulixes. A free man. A proven commander. A husband of a respected family. He had successfully built his new identity.
Now, the true game on Capua's stage would begin, and Tiberius Acilius Ulixes would carve his legend.
{Intimate relationship completed. Target: Upper Class Noble (Category 4).}
{Life Essence obtained: +50}
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{Name: Ulysses (Tiberius Acilius Ulixes)}
{Essence Stored: 53}
{Active Legacies: [Talent] Rapid Adaptation, [Knowledge] Basic Psychology (Tier 1), [Talent] 360-Degree Awareness, [Knowledge] Roman Military Tactics (Tier 1)}