As the night deepened, the lamplight in the council chamber still flickered in the cold wind.
Having forced herself to work hard and finish off the scattered trivial matters ahead of time, Nero had long since returned to her little nest in a daze under Brynhildr's escort and collapsed into a heavy sleep.
Since Rome could no longer endure another upheaval in imperial authority, the Valkyrie had effectively become the Rose Emperor's roommate, tasked with protecting Nero around the clock at close range.
At that moment, only Samael remained in the empty hall, as he preferred solitude whenever he needed to think.
Time slipped away like sand through the fingers, and the constant rustle of pages turning at the desk never ceased.
Only after rapidly reading through the mountain of documents and filling two sheets of parchment with scattered key notes did Samael finally sort out the rough history of the thing's passage from hand to hand.
According to fragmentary texts and vague records, it had most likely been one of the many precious items brought out of the city by the earliest Trojan refugees when Troy fell.
In truth, during the Trojan War, it had been bestowed upon the Trojans by Ares, Apollo, and Artemis as a medium for sounding the call to war and transmitting special signals.
Its name was simple, based on the divine markings engraved upon it: [Bow of Apollo] and [Arrow of Artemis].
However, for reasons unknown, after one of the original two arrows had been used, the result had apparently fallen short of expectations.
Because of that, the bow, more decorative than practical, along with the single remaining arrow, had been sealed inside the bronze chest and buried into the foundation during the Pantheon's construction as a sacred relic of Ares.
Later, as the years turned and the survivors of Troy became Romans, and as the Romans themselves rose and fell across generations, this flashy but impractical thing was long forgotten.
If Samael had not visited the Pantheon tonight and, by resonating with the lingering divine intent throughout the structure, stumbled upon its presence by sheer chance, it would likely have remained sealed beneath that slab forever, never seeing the light of day again.
So that's how it was.
Under the lamplight, Samael picked up the parchment where he had recorded his notes and once more traced through the artifact's history. When his eyes reached one particular passage related to the Trojan War, sudden understanding dawned on him, and the corner of his lips lifted.
So that was why it had failed...
The Ancient Serpent shook his head, rubbed his aching temples for a while, then let out a slow breath and picked up the longbow and heavy arrow from the chest before stepping into the courtyard.
Then Samael tossed one of his snake scales into the sacred fire blazing at the center of the courtyard and raised the arrow, dipping its tip into the flames.
At once, the conical arrowhead engraved with divine markings drew in the fire and ignited violently, like a star fallen into the mortal world, illuminating a wide stretch of the darkness.
Immediately after, the runes carved along the shaft glowed blood-red, their light pulsing rhythmically as they answered one another in resonance.
Samael planted his feet, hooked three fingers of his right hand around the bowstring, and poured surging divine power into it. Amid a sharp series of creaking sounds, the longbow was drawn to its fullest extent, and the runes upon it flared to life.
A wild wind erupted through the courtyard. Blood-red mist seeped from the surrounding brick, stone, grass, and trees, gathering around the Ancient Serpent as it coiled and churned. Within it, one could almost hear the clash of weapons and the hysterical roars of battle.
"Torches of the sky, beacon-fires of heroes, drive back the darkness, burn forever as before... Go, tell them that war has come!"
Samael turned slightly sideways to the arrow, his lips moving as he murmured the divine words softly.
The moment the runes on the bow and arrow fully lit and resonated together, he released the string. A sharp tearing sound split the gloomy darkness of the sky as the shot streaked away, blazing like a comet and swift as lightning.
The Ancient Serpent stood still for a long while, gazing in the direction that streak of fire had flown. Only after the "comet" gradually dimmed and vanished from sight did he finally cast one last meaningful look after it and murmur silently to himself.
Let's hope this thing really works...
A moment later, Samael casually stored the longbow away in a Magecraft array, turned, and returned to the council chamber. Sitting back down at the desk, he resumed reading through yet another pile of accumulated documents.
But after such prolonged, intense labor and the weight of his tangled thoughts, even the Ancient Serpent could not help feeling a little tired and sluggish. His stomach had also begun to growl.
Out of sheer dullness, Samael yawned, paused his work for a moment, and sent word to the kitchens to bring him a late-night meal.
The night was still long, after all, and it was obvious he would have plenty to deal with before dawn. There was no point in treating himself too harshly.
Even so, Samael still found himself reaching for another document and patiently reading through it.
Only a quarter of an hour later, footsteps as soft and silent as a cat's entered the hall, and the aroma of food mixed with a faint fragrance drifted into Samael's nose.
"Your meal, Your Majesty…"
A soft, delicate voice drifted over. Samael frowned slightly without thinking and looked up at the newcomer.
The pale violet short hair that came into view, along with those delicate features and the slightly timid expression that kept instinctively dodging his gaze, made the Ancient Serpent pause for a moment.
"Your Majesty, if you do not eat soon, it will get cold. Shall I serve you?"
Under his repeated scrutiny, the girl grew visibly flustered. She hurriedly lifted the tray and reminded him in a careful voice.
"All right…"
After a brief moment of thought, Samael nodded with amused interest.
The purple-haired girl picked up the bowl, scooped a spoonful of fruit porridge, pursed her soft lips, and gently blew across it to cool it. Then she stepped closer, nervous and restrained, and brought the spoon toward Samael's mouth.
The Ancient Serpent's nostrils twitched. Catching that faint, elusive fragrance, he glanced at the slightly rippling fruit porridge in the spoon. But instead of eating right away, he raised a hand to his chin and studied the young kitchen maid with curious interest.
"New here?"
"Huh? Oh... yes, I was only recently brought into the palace."
The distracted girl suddenly came back to herself. Her hand shook, spilling half a spoonful of porridge. Face flushing red, she nodded hurriedly, then bent down in embarrassment to wipe away the droplets that had splashed onto Samael's skin. But in her haste, she stumbled and fell right into his arms, her face so red it looked ready to bleed, clumsy in a way that was oddly adorable.
Samael looked down at the cute little kitchen maid in his arms and smiled with narrowed eyes, pausing deliberately between his words.
"What I meant was... the Assassin Order."
Bang!
At those words, the cook's pupils contracted sharply. A look of grim resolve flashed across her eyes. Her hands instantly coiled around his waist like snakes, locking him in place and slamming him to the floor. Using the momentum of the fall, she pressed her lips hard against his, sealing his mouth shut, then awkwardly pried his teeth apart and forced her saliva inside.
Only when the heartbeat was gone and the long kiss finally ended did the frantic pounding in the kitchen maid's chest begin to ease. Regaining her composure, she let out a long breath and sat up from the body beneath her.
As rippling bands of light distorted around her, the purple-haired cook's disguise melted away into a face similar in outline, yet the dark bronze skin entirely unlike that of a Roman made her identity unmistakable.
"Your Majesty, forgive my presumption. I offer you something sweet... so please... die for me..."
The bronze-skinned, purple-haired girl whispered those cruel words in a gentle voice. As she spoke, she cupped the pale face of her victim in both hands. A trace of sadness crossed her pretty features as she carefully straightened his clothes and tidied his appearance.
"Honestly, for an assassin, your intelligence work is bad enough. But not even knowing how to finish the kill? That's really a pathetic level of incompetence."
Just as the girl was drifting away from the scene of the murder, the figure who had supposedly "died" smacked his lips as though still savoring the taste, then slowly sat up, his eyes glinting with teasing amusement.
"And one more thing. Let me introduce myself again. I'm not some 'Your Majesty.' I'm Rome's new... god."
As the last word fell, crimson-black Ether surged and boiled around Samael, divine pressure like the underworld itself crashing outward in all directions.
Under that crushing weight, the completely green little assassin lost her breath, rolled up her eyes, and fainted backward, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.