Huh? Are they all real?.

"Don't be afraid, he's just a phantom of the dead using the Sanctuary's aid. Look, he can't even walk out! Don't be afraid of him!"

Before the soldiers could muster their courage with the encouragement of the emperors...

Everyone saw Augustus walk out of the sanctuary and step onto the scarlet mud.

Quintus and the others, who had finally realized they were not dead, followed Augustus again.

But this time, they were not afraid or confused, but full of confidence.

Augustus's light but firm kick nearly crushed their courage.

Everyone suddenly staggered backward countless steps.

The emperors were also so terrified that their eyes widened.

But they could not allow Augustus to destroy their army so easily.

They continued chanting:

"Don't be afraid. Even so, they are just a bunch of slaves and mortals. They don't even have weapons. Pick up your weapons and kill them!"

“My ancestors, your ancestors were able to kill him back then, so they can do it now!”

The emperors even forgot to continue claiming that it was just an imposter.

But the soldiers did indeed muster their courage and step forward again.

This greatly boosted the morale of the emperor, nobles, and Roman soldiers.

Yes, he's just an ordinary person. What's the point of living?

Just keep killing!

It was at this moment that they heard countless sneers.

It didn't come from beside me, but from the sky.

That was the sneer of the gods and kings who had been watching from the sidelines.

However, they weren't mocking Augustus, but rather the still foolish Rome.

Augustus Julius himself, now with his head held high, coldly observed the decaying and decadent Rome and said:

"Rome, feel the wrath!"

The first to understand the meaning of anger were the airships in the sky. Upon witnessing everything, they were the first to flee, abandoning their emperor and running away.

Next came the slaves still at the excavation site. They too saw the answer and ran away, unleashing their greatest speed in their lives in a desperate struggle for survival.

Finally, there were the Roman guards and emperors below the excavation site, who lacked sufficient visibility.

The sound of orderly footsteps came from all directions, but by the time they saw the person in question, it was too late.

The entire excavation site was neatly surrounded by the giant shields they carried.

Behind Augustus, those who heard the orderly footsteps behind him made way and looked at the Roman army that was raising its eagle banner with different expressions.

Even after three eras, their attire remained almost identical.

But everyone understands that these are two completely different armies.

They were the army of the Roman Empire.

And the Augustan Honorary Army of the Holy Roman Republic!

The Church of Remembrance is a sanctuary for mourning the dead and for remembering them. The goddess, the only one among the firstborn who represents mercy and redemption, shed her tears here and left behind a miracle of resurrection.

Unfortunately, even the eldest son couldn't save the eldest son.

But now, perhaps she has finally redeemed herself.

Chapter 248 Rome, crush the enemy! (4k)

The decadence of the nobility, the indulgence of the common people, and the betrayal of the slaves all combined to make Moen realize one thing deeply.

That's the Old World right now; probably more than 90% of the people there are beyond saving.

This is not a sudden change that happened overnight; it is the result of years of cultural accumulation.

In their minds, slaves are meant to be trampled underfoot, regardless of life or death, and everyone else is someone who can be sold off and turned into a slave.

They were only slightly better than the barbarians who ate raw meat and drank blood.

Perhaps even worse than the barbarians, because Moen still remembers a barbarian clan chief who asked him in surprise, "Why don't you kill people to fill your stomachs?"

If it weren't for hunger, the bloodthirsty cannibalistic barbarians wouldn't kill anyone.

So Moen made his own plan—to recall the former Rome.

In this Old World, slaves have proven through their actions that they cannot be trusted.

Moen is not the original, so he cannot distinguish between everyone.

Today, we had the help of Rome to conduct a selection process.

But what about next time?

Moen couldn't filter so perfectly anymore.

Therefore, the only people Moen could trust were the Augustus Honor Army, who had once been directly under his command.

It wasn't the newly formed army that was still alive and remained silent about his death.

When Augustus was assassinated, he had ruled Rome for seventy-three years.

The honorary army at that time was already the umpteenth batch of newly established armies that he couldn't even remember.

Moreover, at that time, Rome had not fought a war for more than thirty years.

After people realized what Augustus was up to, Moen didn't encounter any intense events that required war.

The gods and kings were willing to make way for him and cooperate with him to mend this broken and ruined world.

After all, he proved that only he could do all of this.

Only he, an outsider from the desolate continent, could effectively facilitate the circulation and use of various resources, including manpower, within the hostile territory.

Only he, a mortal destined for a short life, could earn the recognition of the immortal gods and emperors.

However, it was only when Rome was just beginning to be built that Augustus began to try to mend this broken world.

Wars continued to occur frequently, but their intensity was far less than that of the Revelation War in which the First Son participated.

Because everyone wants to fight for the last bit of resources and scraps to ensure their own safety.

Therefore, what Moen recalled were the honor guards who had died in battle during that period.

There were the first batch, the second batch, and the third batch.

But regardless of which batch of honors they were, they were all noble people who had followed Augustus to save the world and gave their lives!

In the Old World, they were the only people Moen could trust!

This was not a fleeting moment of glory like that of the King of Turin.

They really are back.

Moen had always known what kind of miracles were hidden within the memorial shrine.

Therefore, after each battle, Moen would do his best to cremate the warriors' remains and send them to the sanctuary.

This is both the highest tribute that Moen can offer them and a trump card prepared in case the worst happens.

When someone is needed to save the world but there is no one else to trust, they are Moen's strongest support!

"Warriors of Rome, and warriors of the world!"

At this moment, under the watchful eyes of countless honor guards, only Augustus's voice could still resound throughout the heavens and earth.

The gods fell silent, and the kings held their breath.

This is Augustus and his honor guard, who are hailed as the strongest army since the First Age.

Because there is no other army that understands what they are doing just as well as they do.

We are not just empty names; we are truly saving the world.

For this, we are willing to follow one another, even if we remain nameless forever.

The slave owner's henchmen were now nearly collapsing and huddled together backward.

Whether emperor, nobleman, general, or soldier, at this moment, there is no distinction.

They were terrified.

This should have been an overwhelming victory, and they should have been showered with countless riches and power!

Why did this happen to them in the end?

Augustus is one thing, but why is there an Augustus Honor Army?

At Augustus's urging, the honor guards all lowered their spears.

Behind the shield wall, a forest of spears stood straight at the Roman army that wore the same attire as them.

"Our sacrifices were not in vain. Our world continues to this day, and our Rome spans the ages, but our land has been defiled."

The emperors, already humiliated and squeezed into the crowd, were plunged into unprecedented terror by these words.

They can only watch helplessly as death and fear draw ever closer.

They desperately wanted to speak, but all they could manage were gurgling sounds in their throats; they couldn't utter a single complete word.

“The people in front of you wear the same clothes as us, have the same names as us, and even share the same bloodline as us.”

The soldiers at the front had already broken down and thrown away their weapons, instead kneeling on the ground and kowtowing repeatedly, begging for mercy.

They wept bitterly, they prostrated themselves repeatedly, but they did not know they were wrong.

They were horrified to discover that they were really going to die.

But Augustus's voice continued.

If someone could be trusted by the emperors of Rome, then who else could they be trusted by?

“We have smashed the shackles of countless slaves, yet they have made our offspring, their brothers, put them back on!”

A shield wall advanced, and a hail of bullets closed in.

This time, even the emperor lost all authority. He was lifted up and thrown out by terrified soldiers, nobles, and elders.

He fell heavily to the ground.

The crown also quietly fell to the ground at this moment.

They constantly denounced the emperors' evil deeds, trying to pin all the blame on them.

But the sound didn't stop.

"They are Rome, but not our Rome; they have tarnished the name of Rome!"

With a soft thud, the eagle flag, which had also been hung high, instantly collapsed from the flagpole.

That was not the eagle banner of the Holy Roman Republic; it was the power and crown of the slave owners.

Even the powerful and wealthy knelt down.

The sanctity and legitimacy of Rome have been completely denied.

Demigods, generals, governors, elders—whoever they were before, at this moment they had all put everything aside, seeking only the most primal desire—to survive.

Augustus could give them a way to live, but who would give the slaves and poor people under his feet a way to live?

Therefore, Augustus issued the final verdict:

"We must rebuild Rome, so Rome, crush the enemy!"

The shield wall, which could no longer be contained, pressed down like a tidal wave.

The wails that once echoed across the excavation site have now been transferred to those who should truly be wailing and screaming.

The emperor's head was shattered by a giant shield, the demigod was pierced by a spear, and the nobles were trampled into the mud by war boots.

New Rome lost to Old Rome.

The new Rome rebuilt the old Rome.