Days later, Ulixes once again sat in his study. This time, however, the fog of confusion that had once enveloped him was gone. He stared at the same shipping contract scroll that, just a few nights ago, had felt like an impenetrable labyrinth. Now, under the light of his new knowledge, the scroll was a treasure map.
Aemilia and Ilithyia sat across the table, observing him. They had come to discuss the financial strategy of their alliance.
Ulixes did not speak. His rough index finger traced a line of text in the contract. "Look at this," he said, his voice calm. "The portorium tax in Puteoli. All merchants have been paying it based on gross cargo weight."
Ilithyith nodded. "Of course. That's the rule."
"That rule was written for grain and timber merchants," Ulixes countered, his eyes gleaming with new understanding. "Not for luxury goods. If we ship our olive oil in lighter, yet stronger, Sicilian clay amphorae, instead of standard Capuan amphorae, we can reduce the total cargo weight by fifteen percent. The tax we pay will be much lower, while our profits skyrocket."
Silence fell over the room. Ilithyia looked at Ulixes with a new gaze. This was no longer just street cunning. This was a deep understanding of the system. Aemilia, who had staked her entire inherited fortune on this man, felt a heavy burden on her shoulders lift slightly. Her money was in the right hands.
"I have also bought the debts of two minor senators through intermediaries in Rome," Ulixes continued, picking up another wax tablet. "Their debts to moneylenders. We are now their creditors. They will not oppose our trade proposals in the Senate."
He put the tablet down. "Our empire will not be built merely by selling wine. Our empire will be built by controlling every step, from the field to the goblet in a Senator's hand. And by ensuring those who stand in our way, owe us."
Ilithyia smiled faintly, a genuinely satisfied smile. The man she had chosen as an ally proved far more dangerous and promising than she had ever imagined. He was no longer just a sharp sword; he was the hand that moved the entire chessboard. The foundation of their power, which had previously only been built on secrets and desperation, now began to be overlaid with gold and undeniable strategy.
Days later, the sound of war trumpets blared throughout Capua. From his villa's balcony overlooking the main road, Ulixes observed the scene. Below, Glaber's legion marched in neat rows, dust rising from thousands of sandals hitting the ground in unison. A slow-moving steel serpent, ready to devour the rebels.
Ilithyia stood beside him, silent as a marble statue. Her face showed no expression, but Ulixes could see the way her fingers clenched tightly on the balcony railing.
On his horse, Praetor Glaber seemed intoxicated by his own power. He deliberately halted his troops directly below Ulixes's villa, an unsubtle display of force. His eyes, devoid of any warmth, stared directly at the balcony.
"My wife!" Glaber shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. "Come down here! Give your blessing to your husband before he departs for glory!"
Some other nobles watching from their balconies turned, whispering. Ilithyia did not waver. With a straight back, she descended the stairs and walked to her husband's horse.
Glaber did not look at her. He leaned down from his horse. "Pray to the gods, woman," he said in a low voice, yet audible to those nearby. "Not for my safety, but for your fate if I fail."
A naked insult. A threat. Ulixes saw Ilithyia's shoulders stiffen for a fraction of a second. He saw a brief flare of fire in her eyes before the serene mask of nobility returned.
"I will always pray for Rome's victory, my husband," Ilithyia replied, her voice sweet yet laced with venom.
Glaber laughed, then spurred his horse, leading his legion out of the city towards Vesuvius.
Ilithyia returned to the balcony, her face calm once more. But Ulixes saw it. A small tremor at the corner of her lips. Hands clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. Glaber had made a grave mistake. He had not only insulted his wife; he had pushed her further into the arms of his enemy.
As the last ranks of soldiers disappeared around the bend in the road, Ulixes stepped closer to Ilithyia. He offered no empty words of comfort. He simply stood beside her, gazing towards Vesuvius looming in the distance.
"He will not return victorious," Ulixes said calmly. "Arrogance is the worst general of all."
That night, Ulixes was not in his study. He stood on the balcony, looking into the darkness in the direction of Vesuvius. He did not have to wait long. The door behind him opened softly. Ilithyia stepped in, her dark cloak concealing her luxurious gown.
She stopped a few steps behind him. The silence was heavy, broken only by the sound of the night wind.
"You were right," Ilithyia whispered, her voice hoarse in the stillness. "Arrogance must be punished."
Ulixes turned slowly. He looked at the woman's face, which no longer wore the mask of a dutiful Roman wife. Her ice-blue eyes gleamed with a focused, sharp fury and something deeper, something more savage. He walked closer, each step deliberate. He stopped directly in front of Ulixes, so close he could feel the warmth of her body.
Her hand reached out, not to slap or push, but to trace Ulixes's hard jaw. "He thought he could humiliate me," she hissed, "in front of a lion I now possess."
Her fingers trailed down Ulixes's chest, then lower, her skilled hands untying the man's tunic. Ulixes did not move, allowing her. This was the woman's game. For now.
Ilithyia's gown slid from her shoulders, falling to the marble floor soundlessly, revealing her pale, perfect body in the moonlight. She pushed Ulixes against the cold wall, her lips crashing against his with demanding force, a kiss that was not about tenderness, but about claim and rebellion.
Ulixes's hands gripped Ilithyia's hips, reversing their positions with one swift movement. Now Ilithyia leaned against the wall, her eyes wide with surprise at the sudden shift in dominance. Ulixes lifted one of her long legs, hooking it over his hip. His fully hardened penis pressed against the entrance of her wet womanhood.
He thrust in with one powerful, merciless stroke.
"NGHHH!" Ilithyia let out a muffled scream, her head thrown back, her perfectly manicured nails digging into Ulixes's shoulders.
Ulixes began to move, his hips thrusting with a brutal and punishing rhythm. Every thrust was an answer to the humiliation Ilithyia received that afternoon. PLAP. SQUELCH. PLAP. The sound of wet flesh against flesh echoed in the silent balcony.
"Yes... like this..." Ilithyia moaned, her eyes closed, surrendering completely to the sensation. "Punish him... punish us..."
Ulixes withdrew almost completely, then thrust back in deeper, making Ilithyia scream again, this time louder. He could feel the muscles inside Ilithyia's vagina clenching, pulsing around his manhood. His climax was near. He felt his own wave of heat rising.
With several final, deep thrusts, a low growl escaped his throat. He released himself inside the body of his greatest enemy's wife. His hot semen erupted into her womb. Ilithyia convulsed violently, a powerful orgasm tearing through her as she cried out the names of the gods in forbidden pleasure.
He collapsed into Ulixes's embrace, their heavy breaths mingling in the cool night air.
As they stood there, panting in the post-coital silence, the blue panel glowed in Ulixes's mind.
{Intimate relationship completed. Target: Upper Class Noble (Category 4).}
{Life Essence obtained: +50}
He felt his power refilled. Ilithyia pulled back slightly, looking at him with a gaze now filled with the satisfaction of a victory won through ruthlessness. "Now," she whispered, "we wait for him to fail."
Three days passed in strange tension. Capua held its breath, waiting for news from Vesuvius. At Ludus Ulixes, the clanging of wooden swords and the shouts of trainers were the only things that felt normal in the restless city. Ulixes stood on the wooden platform, watching his gladiators train. He did not just see movements; he saw potential and weakness, assets to be honed and protected.
Livia, the orphan girl who served as his main eye in the market, scurried into the ludus gate, breathless. Her face was pale.
"Dominus," she said, her voice trembling. "A soldier... he arrived at the city gate. Alone. His clothes torn and covered in blood."
Ulixes nodded slowly. He had expected it. "Tell me everything."
The news spread faster than fire. No longer just a rumor, but a terrifying certainty. Glaber's legion had not merely lost; they had been annihilated. Ambushed in their sleep by slaves who descended from the cliffs like ghosts, using vine tendrils. The Praetor fled, leaving his standards nearly captured. Rome had been humiliated by a group of slaves.
That night, Ulixes's villa once again became a war council. Panic was palpable in the air.
"They will come here!" Aemilia cried, her hand trembling as she held her wine goblet. "Spartacus will burn all of Capua!"
"Glaber is a fool! An arrogant idiot!" Licinia hissed, her anger greater than her fear. "He has put us all in danger!"
Ilithyia remained silent, staring blankly into her goblet. Her face showed a mask of cold disdain for her husband, but Ulixes saw the tremor in her hand. This was ruin for her family name as well.
"This is not the end," Ulixes said, his calm voice cutting through their panic. "This is the beginning."
They all turned to him.
"Glaber failed because he underestimated his enemy," Ulixes continued. "He saw slaves, not soldiers. He saw the high ground as a fortress, not a trap. His arrogance blinded him." He looked at them one by one. "Panic is a ladder for those who are ready to climb it. And right now, all of Rome is panicking."
He walked towards the map on the wall. "Glaber is finished. The Senate will strip him of his title. They will debate for weeks about who to send next. They will send other equally arrogant commanders."
"Then what is our hope?" Domitia asked, her voice barely audible.
Ulixes turned, his eyes gleaming in the lamplight. "Our hope does not lie with the Senate. Our hope lies with a man who sees this crisis not as a threat, but as an opportunity. A man with the wealth to fund his own legions and the ambition to control Rome. A man whose name they all already fear."
He did not need to mention the name. They all knew who he meant. Marcus Licinius Crassus.
That night, after the women left, their minds filled with new strategies, Ulixes summoned the Egyptian. He handed him a neatly sealed papyrus scroll.
"Deliver this to Dominus Crassus in Rome. Use the fastest courier," he ordered. "Ensure only his hands receive this."
The Egyptian nodded and vanished.
Ulixes stood alone in his study. He had moved his chess piece, sending a signal to the strongest player on the board. He had predicted the storm, and now, he invited the dragon to come and ride it.
His mind called up the system panel to check his resources.
{Name: Ulixes (Tiberius Acilius Ulixes)}
{Essence Stored: 103}
{Active Legacies: [Talent] Rapid Adaptation, [Knowledge] Basic Psychology (Tier 1), [Talent] 360-Degree Awareness, [Knowledge] Roman Military Tactics (Tier 1), [Knowledge] Economics & Trade (Tier 1)}
He had enough Essence for a new Legacy. He knew he would need it. The game was about to go to the next level.