But Night was already content!
After all, this was Rome, not Greece.
This was no longer an era where the gods could freely walk among mortals.
To find any heroic martial arts that survived intact into this age was remarkable, let alone to learn the divine techniques of ancient heroes.
No need to be too greedy—
After Night had achieved a basic mastery of his new martial skills—enough to wield them effectively on the battlefield, he began assembling his army to set out for the Spanish front.
Once, he had led only a handful of men, barely escaping that war zone with his life.
This time, he would return with unstoppable force to reclaim the honor of a warrior.
On the eve of his departure, Rome's streets were blanketed with flowers, and crowds of citizens lined the roads, cheering for him.
No one doubted that Night would bring victory to Rome.
And this confidence—
Not even the soldiers marching behind him harbored a single doubt.
Although Rome had recently suffered defeat on every front, these mostly young, inexperienced soldiers followed him with unwavering confidence and fiery zeal, fixated on his figure at the head of their formation.
Amid flowers and fervent cheers, Night rode forward on horseback.
Then, suddenly, a young boy was shoved out from the crowd, nearly stumbling into the path of Night's horse.
A gasp went up from the crowd.
Fortunately, Night was still a short distance away and reined in his horse just in time.
The boy, however, had gone pale with fright.
Night immediately dismounted and helped him up.
"Are you all right, child?"
"N-no problem at all! You don't need to worry, it was my fault.
I just... admired you so much, I wanted to push through to the front to see you better, but I went a bit too far and lost my balance," the boy stammered at first, still shaken, but his words gradually became steadier and clearer.
His voice held excitement and admiration.
For someone his age to remain this composed after what had just happened was truly impressive.
What had started as a simple accident now felt like an omen.
Suspecting he might be meeting someone of significance, Night asked gently, "No need to apologize, child. Thank you for your support—I can feel it. What's your name?"
"M-my name? Are you asking my name?" The boy looked astonished.
Could someone as ordinary as him actually be remembered by a hero like Lista Night?
With excitement, he spoke up: "Marius! Sir, my name is Marius—Gaius Marius!"
Night: "…!"
"That's an excellent name—!"
Night thought, feeling a bit stunned.
Was this the same Marius who would one day become one of the two great titans of Rome, competing with Sulla for supreme power in the next era?
In the real world, the current Marius was indeed still alive, though he must be quite elderly by now.
But the Marius standing before him was just a boy.
Wait, something wasn't adding up—if Night's memory was correct, Marius in this era should have already experienced the legendary campaign with Scipio Aemilianus that led to Carthage's downfall.
He was supposed to have been a comrade of Tiberius Gracchus…
At this time, he should be around 23 years old, serving under Scipio in Spain, helping to suppress rebellions.
After Night asked a few questions to confirm details, he realized that this young boy was indeed the same Marius he remembered.
However, in this world, Marius had been born later, which meant he had also joined the military later.
This Marius was only fifteen; it would be another two years before he was eligible to enlist in the Roman army.
In that instant, it dawned on Night—could this timing change be the reason?
Marius's age difference from the historical timeline meant he had missed out on joining Scipio's famous campaign—the critical battle of Carthage's fall, which had profoundly shaped so many future legends.
Without that invaluable experience, this Marius might never grow into the leader he could have been, which might explain why the Marius in reality had failed in his early campaigns and struggled to resolve the Social War.
Simply being born a little later had created such a massive butterfly effect—
Night couldn't help but feel a deep sense of wonder.
In reality, he'd never met the older Marius, but now, in this simulation, he had encountered a young Marius and even become his idol.
The whole situation felt surreal, bizarre, almost disturbingly so.
If this Roman simulation affected the real world, then what expression would the real Marius have upon meeting him?
It was almost too strange to consider and, strangely enough, Night found it somewhat amusing.
And if he left a lasting legacy in this world as a hero, then what would happen to real history?
Would there be a "Lista Night" epic carved into the records of ancient Rome?
Would he inherit his simulated status and influence in the real world, or would people simply assume he was someone else with the same name?
Lost in thought, Night found himself wrapped in a paradoxical contemplation—like Schrödinger's cat.
As long as the box remained unopened, he would never know whether the cat inside was alive or dead.
The answer might only come after he left this simulation and asked the Black Tower—or by observing the real world himself.
"Marius, is it?" Night smiled as he patted the young boy's head, giving his hair a playful ruffle.
While he knew this boy would someday become one of Rome's most powerful figures, standing among giants, that day was far off.
And the opportunity to playfully pat the head of a future "old fox" like Marius only came once.
"I have a feeling you'll become quite an extraordinary person in the future," he said with a grin. "Alright, off you go now, don't block the path of the army."
"An extraordinary person… Could I really become someone like that?" Marius's voice trembled with excitement and awe.
He glanced around and saw the admiring eyes of onlookers, young and old alike, fixed on him.
A determination sparked within him:
'I must become a great person, someone who stands shoulder to shoulder with my hero.'
This single compliment from Night planted a seed in young Marius's heart.
Meeting young Marius was a minor, amusing encounter for Night.
But as he continued down the road, a sudden shout came from the crowd: "I'll be old enough to join the army in two years! I'll follow you then, and fight by your side!"
Amid the cheers, it was unclear if Night heard Marius's declaration.
But the boy clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with resolve and anticipation for the future.
Yet he never thought that fate would play a grand joke on him.
.
.
.