7th Noble Lion Moon, 908 – Telo Martius, the New Chariot Capital
Telo Martius. The great capital of the New Chariot Empire. A city said to shine in an illustrious golden glow. The city of perfection and might, and the symbol of the empire's unstoppable power.
All across the city, the people went about their days with the usual chatter and murmurs of day-to-day life. Concepts like class and status meant little for the people of Telo Martius. Under the rule of the Martius family, all were deserving to live in the lap of luxury. The finest foods and clothes, a well-kept city free of litter, and the welcomed atmosphere of the people's joy.
Standing tall in the center of the city was the emperor's palace, a shining beacon of gold that glowed mightily even in the darkness nights. Under the glow of the morning sun, its radiance stretched over the city so that all may witness the glory of their divine ruler. With its spacious and open architecture allowing all who reside within to bask in the sun's golden glow, it allowed all to bask across the mighty empire built upon decades of willpower and strength.
On the upper floor of the palace existed a single room: the emperor's personal chamber. It was a grand, massive room with an open wall leading out to a wide balcony, giving its occupant a stellar view of the city and its prized colosseum in the distance.
Luxuries fit for an emperor lay out across the private floor, from expensive attire to a personal pool with fresh, hot water pouring out in a constant, steady stream. Paintings of the emperor hung from the walls, displaying his magnificence in his royal attire or his armor. Rows of armor, shields, and spears hung from the walls as well, each with a plaque dedicated to previous emperors and warriors of great renown. Exotic plants not found within New Chariot sat in the corners of the room, liberated from years of conquest and preserved by the dedicated nurturing of the palace staff.
Among the treasures lay the emperor's bed, large enough to give equal space to three Snorlax and one Tyranitar. The bed was currently occupied by a myriad of bodies wrapped in the extravagant blankets. Several women slept in the bed, consisting of a Pachirisu, Politoed, Bayleef, Mightyena, Blaziken, Greedent, and Ampharos.
In the center of the bed was the emperor himself: Emperor Nero Martius. A young Krokorok of twenty-six-years, he slept soundly under his sheets, his arms wrapped around the Mighyena and Greedent while the Pachirisu lay curled up on his chest. Empty bottles lay scattered across the bed with alcohol stained across the bed sheets.
The sunlight peeked through his open wall and shined across his face. He groaned against the offending light and turned onto his side, causing the Pachirisu to slide off his chest. "Ten more minutes…" he groaned.
His chamber doors swung open, and a Medicham dressed in a white tunic and red toga entered. He cleared his throat and announced, "Rise and shine, Emperor Nero! A busy day awaits you!"
The croc grimaced and covered his head with a pillow. "Leave me be, Gemini. I drank too much last night…"
The Medicham narrowed his eyes at the bottles and clothes scattered around the grand bed. "Must've been quite the night for you." He shook his head. "You have a meeting in two hours with your commanders, and you are to attend lunch with your father later. Time waits for no one."
The young emperor groaned. "You're the worst, you know that?" He pulled the pillow off his face and massaged his eyes. "Fine, fine. I'll be up and bathed within the hour. Have the chefs prepare my breakfast."
Gemini bowed. "It shall be done." He backed away and closed the doors behind him.
As Nero sat up and massaged his face, he roused his sleeping harem from their own slumber. The first to awake was the Mighyena, lifting herself onto her haunches and yawning. "What a night. I had one too many bottles of ale."
Nero smirked. "You know how to pound back the drinks. I got carried away myself."
The Bayleef yawned, stretching her legs out under the blankets before smiling lovingly at the croc. "Oh, we're aware of that."
The Ampharos pulled herself up with the blanket draped around her like a cloak. She smacked her lips together and mumbled, "I could go for some breakfast right about now."
The Pachirisu uncurled herself and yawned. "Are we still going to the colosseum later? I made a few bets the other day, and I'm not losing out on my winning streak."
Nero picked her up. "How can I refuse my girls?" He kissed her on the forehead, making her blush and giggle. He sat her down and stretched his arms. "So, who will be helping me bathe today?"
The Blaziken wrapped her arms around the emperor. "I'd be delighted to assist, my love."
"I call scrubbing his back!" the Greedent exclaimed, pulling on Nero's other arm.
Nero chuckled. "Well, I did promise I'd be ready within the hour. We can take our time enjoying the water~." This perked up his harem as they pulled themselves out of the bed and sauntered over to the private pool. Nero sat back against his bedframe, admiring them for a moment before turning his gaze out the open wall.
He didn't care for some stuffy meeting or lunch with his father. Life was too short for all that.
He was going to enjoy the lap of luxury to its fullest. That's all that mattered to the likes of him.
Once he finished getting scrubbed down, he left his bedroom chamber and made his way down the hall. He dressed in a fine blue tunic that draped down to his knees and red toga wrapped over his body adorned with a golden epaulet on the left shoulder. Golden bangles hung loosely from his wrists, and gold jewelry decorated in various gemstones hung from his neck.
As he passed through the hallway, the staff would pause from their work to bow to him. He offered nothing more than a simple wave and a smile, along with the occasional compliment on their hard work. Though they were all slaves of the palace, a show of appreciation for their work kept them productive.
"What the hell is wrong with you, bitch?!"
Nero stopped amidst his stride at the sound of the rough shouts coming from around the corner. Recognizing the voice, he let out an audible groan and marched into the branching hallway, where he found two individuals locked in a one-sided confrontation.
The loudmouthed one was a Charizard dressed in black tunic and pants while adorning bronze armor pieces. He wore a helmet with a brilliant red plume extending out from the top. He carried twin maces on both his sides. He had a fierce disposition in the way he crossed his arms and scowled down at the cowering slave girl.
Speaking of, the target of his wrath was a seventeen-year-old Heliolisk dressed in a light blue stola that went down to her ankles.
Curious, Nero observed the hallway and noted the spilled bucket of soapy water splashed across the floor and onto the Charizard's pants.
The winged lizard bent down and growled at the frilled lizard. "I heard you laughing under your breath. You think that's funny? Throwing water at me? Trying to kill me, are ya?!"
The Heliolisk frantically shook her head. "N-No! Of course not, Commander Nemesis! I-It was an accident! Y-You just spooked me—"
"Spooked you?!" he growled. "You got something to say about me?!"
"I, uh—"
"At ease, Nemesis!"
The commander and servant tensed up as Nero made himself known. He approached the Charizard who easily towered over him, grabbing him by the chest plate and pulling him down to eye level. His gaze remained steady and relaxed as opposed to Nemesis' worried scowl.
"Are you trying to scare all my slaves into uselessness? I don't need your obnoxious voice ringing through the hallway whenever you have to throw a tantrum."
Nemesis growled. "Nero—"
"Emperor Nero. Are you still having trouble adjusting to my rule?" He shoved the Charizard back and raised his hand in a beckoning motion. "If you claim I'm not worthy of my father's legacy, perhaps a demonstration of my spear work will change your attitude."
"You little—"
Nero grinned darkly. "I've gotten more work done in the last eight years than my father could ever hope to achieve. If I were you, I'd check your hubris and remind yourself who is in charge here. I could kill you right now and have her clean your blood off the walls." His comment made the Heliolisk squeak and hide behind a pedestal.
"…" Nemesis finally relented, snorting smoke out of his nostrils. "I hate you so much."
"I know. Now, unless you're also here to tell me of your colossal screw-ups, you can kindly march yourself to the war room and wait until I start the meeting."
"…" He growled, but bowed to the arrogant emperor. "By your command, Emperor." He turned and marched off in a huff.
Nero tutted at the huffing dragon. "Those old hounds. Why can't they be more like Terminus? I should probably get rid of all the old blood and make way for some fresh blood." He sighed and tucked his arms behind his head. "Ugh, but all that paperwork, too. Waste of my time."
"Um, Emperor Nero?" He glanced over his shoulder as the Heliolisk servant bowed to him. "Th-Thank you for…helping me."
He chuckled aloud. "Don't mistake my pity as kindness. I just didn't want him disrupting the workflow." He waved her off and carried on his way. "Get this mess cleaned up. Oh, and if you happen to bump into Nemesis again…" He smirked over his shoulder. "Next time, try and aim for his flame."
The servant winced. "Uh…of course, sir."
The emperor bellowed with laughter as he marched down the hallway, leaving the servant girl to kneel down and wipe up the wet floor. She paused a moment, watching him until he was out of sight, before shuddering away her anxiety and returning to her duties.
Nero sat at the end of the war table, legs crossed together and one arm propped on the armrest as he rested his cheek against his fist. He blinked slowly, nearly drifting to sleep as he listened to the veteran commanders drone on about their recent triumphs in the west. The veterans were made up of his father's old council, still in power by his father's insistence. Among the older veterans were a Gallade, Dusclops, Hydreigon, and Mamoswine. And, of course, Nemesis.
Seated near Nero, however, were his own personal soldiers handpicked by him: Gemini, a Hariyama, and a Kleavor. While Gemini and the Hariyama were seated around his end, the Kleavor stood dutifully by Nero's chair, arms crossed behind his back and looking out with a vigilant stare.
"…With much of Verde's land being slowly taken into our control, we've reached a stalemate as we intrude on the Forbidden Forest," the Dusclops explained. "Their defenses have been strongest there, thus making it nigh impossible to take down the villages and towns nearby."
Mamoswine nodded. "Indeed. The Wick Kingdom is proving just as difficult to collapse. They have remarkable commanders of their own leading the resistance against us, along with rumors of an old war criminal of ours under their employment."
Hydreigon scowled. "Florentinus. That traitor."
Gallade shook his head. "And then there's the recency with the west's alliance. Verde, Wick, and Senbo have combined their armies in hopes of pushing back against our own. One of our prison camps was recently liberated by a small band of knights. We lost Commander Auster."
"We'll send a legion of our finest infantrymen to collapse their resisting armies," the Dusclops said. "Our impregnable defenses cannot be outdone—"
"Ugh!"
The veteran commanders looked down the table and saw Nero laying over the armrests, dangling himself in a dramatic fashion. Nemesis scowled at the obnoxious emperor. "Do you have a problem with our strategy, Emperor Nero?"
The Krokorok tilted his head toward them. "You do realize the Senbo Kingdom has access to heavy artillery, right? No shield is going to stop a cannonball from ripping them apart. Sure, a few decades ago, the usual formations and tactics would work, but this is the age of firearms now." He sat himself up and pointed accusingly at the Dusclops. "You're the quartermaster. Why haven't we started development on our own cannons and rifles?"
The ghost glared. "We've never needed such barbaric tools before—"
"Barbaric doesn't equal inept in my eyes. Don't forget half the reason we've gotten so much progress done was because I'm the one taking into account all the recent advancements made in the last few years. We've been locked in a stalemate with Umbra Clock for years until I forced you idiots to recruit alchemists into our army."
The Gallade groaned. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with the emperor."
Nero raised a finger. "A new compound is in the works. It'll launch an adhesive substance coated in flames that'll stick to virtually anything it comes into contact with. Best of all, it can't be extinguished by water, thus greatly limiting one's ability to put themselves out. See to the quick production of it, then ship out several dozen catapults to the individual legions."
The Dusclops groaned. "Very well." He looked over his notes. "Going back to the Verde Kingdom, we were having some issues with the thieves guild known as the Foresters, although they've recently gone silent. Occasional skirmishes here and there, but we haven't gotten a report about them in weeks."
Nero glared. "Word around the region is that the Foresters have been steadily losing access to their resources. By my guess, they've retreated to preserve themselves."
Mamoswine snorted. "They'd be desperate to find a means to sustain themselves. Perhaps they've gone back to stealing from others to preserve themselves."
Nero scratched his chin. "No, I have a feeling they're up to something else." He glared thoughtfully. "Although, we did get a report during the last sighting from one of our infantrymen. He mentioned something about conflict within the Foresters. Apparently there has been…disagreement with their leaders."
"What do suppose that means?"
"It's only secondhand information. It could be an explanation for why they've gone silent recently. The soldier overheard a couple Foresters bickering about the situation during a battle, but there wasn't much to go off of." Nero shook his head. "It's probably nothing important."
Nemesis crossed his arms. "For now, we should alert the leading commanders and have them stay on the lookout for the Foresters just in case. Speaking of problematic elements—"
"No sightings of the Roar of the Wastes as of yet," the Dusclops stated. "He's gone silent as well."
Nero huffed. "Make sure our legions confiscate any firearms they find off the battlefield. That's probably their only hope of surviving an encounter, as unlikely that may be. As for the western alliance, keep on course with the current plan. Even if they push back a few dozen legions, they'll hardly make a dent in our ranks before they wear themselves thin. And with Echo Bell unable to take part in the war due to the damages they took months ago, their resources are limited. We can crush them at any time we want, but eliminating the actual problem comes first."
Nemesis glared. "And once Verde and Wick fall under our control—"
Nero smirked. "We'll have territorial advantage over Senbo and be able to steadily work our way to their capital. It may take a while. They're a far more dangerous power compared to the Umbra Clock Kingdom, after all. But with access to their confiscated weapons, it'll even up the battlefield."
"What a ruthless mind, this one possesses," the Dusclops mumbled.
Nero held his chin in his hand and laughed through clenched teeth. "At the end of the day, you can't have fun without a good ol' war. That's what makes the New Chariot Empire the true powerhouse of this world. We are war itself."
The meeting dragged on for another couple hours before finally dismissing. Nero kicked the doors open, joined by his entourage of three, and made his way down the hall with a casual stride. Gemini followed beside the emperor, pinching between his eyes in annoyance. "Did you really need to spend the whole meeting antagonizing them?"
Nero smirked. "What can I say? It's part of my charm."
"It sounded to me you were going out of your way to make them attack you."
He waved it off. "Details."
The Hariyama huffed. "It would do you some good to exercise some restraint before you whip your tongue into another verbal lashing."
The Kleavor scoffed. "Emperor Nero knows what he's doing. Those old fools don't know what they're talking about."
Nero snickered. "You flatter me, Terminus, but Saturn makes a point. Perhaps I should save the verbal lashings for when they actually get the chance to speak their screw-ups."
The Hariyama, Saturn, facepalmed. "That is not even remotely what I meant."
Gemini raised his brow. "I am curious, though. What is your fixation on sparing Senbo until you have all the west under your control? Taking them out immediately seems more advantageous."
Nero shook his head. "Taking them head-on runs a risk of being met by allied armies. With them isolated to the north, we can corner their forces until they have nowhere else to go. By spreading our hundreds of legions into the three territories, we make it next to impossible for them to reach each other."
"It didn't stop their leaders from forging the alliance in the first place," Gemini reminded.
"It makes no difference. Their forces are far too scattered as is. Even if a few soldiers on either side managed to reach each other, our primary objective is keeping Senbo back while we pummel the lesser threats." Nero closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "The only problematic elements are their head knights, the strongest of them all. Truly terrifying forces to face in combat."
Terminus glared. "Now I see why you want Senbo to be conquered last. In regards to what happened to your father…"
Nero smirked. "Don't mistake my pity as kindness. I'm not doing it to get revenge for him. I'm going to conquer Senbo and triumph over where he failed."
"What a cruel son I've raised…"
Nero and his soldiers stopped, looking ahead to see an elderly Krookodile in their path. He wore a long black tunic down to his ankles and a red toga that covered the right side of his body. He hobbled with a cane. His face was littered with scars, one even cutting over his right eye. He had a gnarly patch of faded skin across the right side of his face, likely from taking a blade to the face.
The soldiers bowed to him. "Lord Martius."
Nero scoffed. "Father."
Lord Martius nodded at his son. "You've proven yourself to be a mighty emperor for your people, Nero, though I hope you haven't lost the way of the Martius bloodline."
Nero smirked. "How could I? We pledge to stomp out all resistance that stands before our path and spread luxurious comfort to the people who pledge their allegiance to us. That is what makes Telo Martius the great wonder of the world. Once I destroy the west, I'll make sure everyone who serves under the banner of New Chariot lives without fear of poverty or despair. Those that resist will serve to make that world come true for the deserving."
Lord Martius nodded. "Good, good. Now then…" He took a deep breath, then shouted, "WHAT'S THIS I HEAR ABOUT YOU DRINKING YOURSELF INTO A STUPOR AGAIN—GAH!" The former emperor doubled over from a loud, cracking sound shooting from his back. "Damnable spine…!"
Nero and his soldiers stared at the eccentric lord in bafflement. "He's as spirited as ever…" Terminus mumbled.
Nero groaned before shrugging at his aching father. "Lay off. One of my girls had her birthday yesterday. We were just doing a bit of indulging."
Lord Martius cracked his back into place before groaning. "You are supposed to be a symbol for our empire. You are a god in the eyes of the people. Do you know what they'd say if they saw you getting wasted?"
"Behold! The God of Parties bestows upon us with his presence!"
"Take this seriously!"
Nero waved him off. "You're just grouchy because you haven't had your medicine yet."
"Stop changing the—GAH!" The lord clutched at his right side, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Accursed wound still flares up…"
"Told ya."
"Silence!"
Once the excitement between father and son died down, they made their way to the dining hall where their lunch was freshly prepared. The finest of steaks coupled with an assortment of exotic fruits and a serving of wine to complement the meal.
Nero rocked back in his dining chair, sipping on his glass. Lord Martius glared at his son. "Can't you eat with just a fraction of decorum?"
The young emperor smirked. "Life's too short to be following stuffy old etiquette. I live the way I want with no regret."
"You're unbelievable."
"Besides, I'll be taking some of the girls to the colosseum later. Word around is that they've got some exciting matches lined up for today." Nero pulled a newspaper out from his toga and skimmed it. "Fortuna's one lucky gal, I tell ya. She always knows who to place the winning bets on. She predicts Buckshot Vilde will be earning his sixtieth match today."
Lord Martius glared. "You haven't been rigging the matches, have you?"
Nero smirked. "Only to see how good she is. She hasn't tripped me up yet. Hmm, I wonder if—"
"Do not try setting up any of our fighters against Tyranno. He isn't meant to be used for sport. He's meant for public executions."
Nero rolled his eyes. "I…wasn't going to suggest that at all. How dare you?"
Lord Martius groaned before returning to his meal. "Anyway, I'll be checking in on the new infantrymen later. Once they're properly trained up, we'll have a new legion to extend our reach over the west. They're being properly managed, right?"
Nero waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. We got some slave girls to tend to their meals and laundry while they're off training." He tilted his head as a Gardevoir came by and poured him another glass of wine. "That will be all for now, my dear."
She bowed to him. "Of course, Emperor Nero. Ah, but I have one other item for you." She set the jug aside and pulled out a scroll. "This was delivered to you just this morning."
Curious, Nero ceased rocking in his chair and snatched the scroll. "Huh, no insignia. Who would send this to me?" He unfurled the scroll, then his expression immediately soured. "Ah, him. Should've guessed."
Lord Martius raised his brow. "Another letter from Terrowin Ogden, I presume?"
"That old bastard just won't leave me alone about his stupid heir system. You'd think I made my rejection clear after I sent his last messenger boy's head back in a package." He lazily held the scroll back to the Gardevoir. "Burn it."
Right as the psychic servant conjured a flame, Lord Martius interjected. "Son, perhaps it would be wise to properly hear out Sir Ogden's proposal. He seems insistent to have you apart of the system."
"He doesn't want me for his little system. He wants New Chariot's power. How dense does he think I am not to see such an obvious ploy?" Nero narrowed his eyes for a moment before pulling the scroll back. "Although, he did request to have an audience with me. That one's new."
Lord Martius nodded. "Perhaps showing him around Telo Martius and hearing out his offer face-to-face will change your mind."
"…" A smirk crawled over the Krokorok's snout. "You know what? I agree, Father."
His eyes widened. "Y-You do?"
He rolled up the scroll and handed it back to the servant. "Pen a reply letter to Terrowin Ogden that I grant permission for him to enter Telo Martius. If he wishes to settle these pointless negotiations, then I will be happy to oblige."
The Gardevoir took the scroll back unsurely. "Is there a preferred date you wish him to arrive?"
Nero scoffed and waved her off. "I don't care what day he comes. Just pick one at random."
"Uh…of course, Emperor Nero." She bowed and went on her way.
Lord Martius glared at his son. "What are you up to?"
Nero picked at his teeth. "Nothing."
"You changed your mind a bit too quickly there."
Nero smirked. "You wanted me to be a symbol of power for our people, right? I might as well show everyone how I take care of bothersome negotiations."
Later…
Roars and cheers filled the grand colosseum as the people of Telo Martius gathered through the entrances and took their seats in the high rows, giving them a magnificent view of the massive arena fit for an assortment of challenges to test the mettle of its fighters. It was the ultimate pastime of Telo Martius. All manner of sport took place within the arena from chariot races to competitions of strength.
However, none were more popular than the death matches. The Centum Death Ring, it was nicknamed. A challenge for the imprisoned fighters to earn the right for their freedom. All manner of brawls from duels, tag team, and battle royales took place all for the chance of a winner being declared. Fighters who accumulated one hundred victories in a row without losing were granted the honor of freedom from their binds.
In the history of New Chariot's rise to power, only seventeen fighters won their freedom. The sport became so popular that gambling rings were established, people betting on their favorite fighters in hopes of scoring the one hundred wins, granting them the ultimate bragging rights of all time.
Once the time had come, the battles were underway. The crowd erupted with excitement as match after match took place in the arena, some lasting as long as ten minutes to others taking no more than ten seconds. People screamed out with joy as their preferred fighter took the win while others screamed out in horror as they watched their fighter and their money crumble out from their grasp. It was the ultimate high for entertainment.
Nero and his father sat up in the observation balcony, reclining in their thrones as they enjoyed the matches. Lord Martius glared warily at his son as he and his three harem girls (the Pachirisu, Mightyena, and Politoed) enjoyed bottles of ale, laughing and stomping their feet.
"Son…" Lord Martius grumbled.
Nero waved him off. "Oh, chill out. It's just a little ale."
"Weren't you hungover this morning?"
"Details, details." He grinned down at the Pachirisu, who was bouncing excitedly on his leg. "Tell me the good news, Fortuna. Is your prediction still correct?"
She smirked. "Oh, you bet! Buckshot Vilde is coming in hot from his fifty-ninth win, aiming for his sixtieth! I'm betting five hundred gul on today's match!"
Nero glanced down into the arena where the current match was taking place. The two fighters on site were a Tyranitar and an Armorouge. The Tyranitar, with his naturally thick hide, wore nothing more than a harness crossed over his torso and pants. The Armorouge simply wore a pair of tight pants with a chain acting as a belt. They both had metal collars strapped over their necks.
The Tyranitar charged down the armored flame spirit, lighting up his fangs with electricity. The Armorouge knelt under the attack, dodging it as soon as it snapped down, and slammed his palm into the stone lizard. He released a pulse of energy that blasted Tyranitar backwards, sending him sailing across the arena and crashing into the far wall. With his opponent down, the armored spirit sprinted full speed.
Tyranitar picked himself up and roared, releasing a sweeping Hyper Beam to end the battle. Armorouge, however, leapt over the attack right as his pauldrons floated down from his shoulders and locked together around his arms. Energy charged up inside the combined pauldrons as he landed on top of the exhausted lizard.
"Burst Shot!"
An explosive wave ejected from the pauldrons, smashing Tyranitar back against the wall with far greater force. The recoil sent Armorouge flying back as smoke hissed from his pauldrons. They positioned back around his shoulders as soon as he landed. He crossed his arms and turned his back to the dazed monster.
Tyranitar peeled off from the wall, puffing a gasp of smoke, and landed face first into the ground.
"And Buckshot Vilde takes the wiiiiiiin!" a voice blared across the arena, breaching the early eruption of cheers from the audience.
Fortuna threw her head back and laughed. "Fortuna favors the bold! My lucky streak knows no end!"
The Mightyena chuckled through a smirk. "Seriously? How are you so good at this?"
The Politoed giggled. "Perhaps our dear Nero is helping her cheat."
Nero smirked. "Nah. She's just that good at predicting the fights. You never cease to impress me, my dear."
She scurried up his arm and kissed his cheek. "I do have my lucky charm by my side at all times, after all."
"You flatter me."
Mightyena snickered. "Still, this Vilde fellow is rising up the brackets. He's been cruising through battle royales and all sorts of matches. Are we potentially looking at another legend in the making? Maybe I should start putting bets on him."
Fortuna snickered. "I recommend it, Ceres. My lucky senses tell me I'm going to be swimming in gul for the eighteenth Centum Death Ring champ."
Politoed saw Nero's bottle was empty and handed him another. "Oh, they're alright, but nothing beats watching our dear Nero take part in the chariot races. He's the best racer of them all."
He took the bottle and laughed. "Maia, please. You're embarrassing me."
Ceres smirked. "What? I thought you loved it when we praised you."
Fortuna nuzzled up against Nero, stroking his chin with her tail. "No one can contend with your skills in the arena. Maybe you should award bonus points to the fighters to see if any of them have what it takes to match you on wheels."
Nero smirked. "They wouldn't last a second."
"We know!" the girls exclaimed, bursting out into laughter.
Lord Martius groaned, noting their reddened cheeks. "All four of you are getting drunk again…"
Nero gulped down half his new bottle and wiped his snout. "Ah, quit ruining our fun, old man. Ah, speaking of fun…" He snapped his fingers, calling over Gemini to his side.
"Yes, Emperor Nero?"
"Send word to the master of ceremonies for me. Ask him if they can book Buckshot Vilde a difficult match. Maybe against one of the more rested fighters with a higher win count."
Gemini bowed. "I'll see what I can do, Emperor Nero." He took his leave from the observation balcony.
Fortuna smirked. "Trying to give me a challenge, Nero~?"
He tickled her chin. "I just want to make sure your skills don't get rusty."
"How thoughtful~."
Maia pouted. "Hey, don't hog all of the attention from us!"
Ceres propped herself up against Nero's chair. "He prefers more mature women, anyway."
Fortuna pouted. "Hey, I'm plenty mature!"
Nero laughed. "Ladies, save the fighting for the arena! This is a time for drinking!"
They grinned and picked up their bottles. "Yeah!"
Lord Martius winced. "Oh no…"
Lord Martius shielded his face in embarrassment, unable to bear the drunken sight sitting next to him. Nero and his girls laughed like loons, laying over each other on the throne with bottles littered at the foot of it. They weren't even paying attention to the current match, too preoccupied teasing and giggling in a drunken stupor.
"Another round of drinks!" Nero exclaimed, bursting out in laughter.
"Yes, Emperor Nero!" his girls exclaimed, raising new bottles and laughing along with him.
"I'm starting to remember why my council was hesitant to have you take over the empire…" he grumbled.
Nero wiped his snout and smirked at his father. "Chill out, Pops. The people deserve to live in luxury. Time on this forsaken planet is short, and I'm not wasting a minute of youth! I am a god, after all. My legacy will surpass time itself. Thus, I must enjoy the pleasures of the world and live my life with no regret."
"There is more to being a leader than getting wasted and throwing parties! That's not even what a leader should be doing in the first place!"
Nero laughed. "The people love me, Pops! As long as the people are happy, who cares?!"
Lord Martius covered his face and sighed. "Nero, take this seriously."
The emperor groaned. "I'm nothing but serious. I uphold the tradition of giving the people fortune. We take from those who oppose us and claim all their riches in the name of Telo Martius!" He raised his arms to the sky. "I am the one true god of this world, and I shall take all that this world offers!"
"You're so drunk…"
Ceres, reclining over Nero's lap, finished off her ale and tossed the bottle aside. She hiccupped with a giddy smile and wrapped her forelegs around Nero. "Mmmm, under this light, he sure does look like a god~."
Fortuna lay on her stomach over Nero's leg, hiccupping as she tried to raise her head. "W-Wait, how long have we been drinking? Did I w-win my other bets?"
Maia sat at the foot of the chair, swaying back and forth. "Y-Yes…"
"Ah good, carry on…"
Lord Martius pinched between his eyes. "Nero, I swear, you—"
BOOM!
Nero and his father jolted from an explosion echoing over the colosseum. The audience ceased cheering and let out murmurs of confusion while the current match kept going on, the fighters too distracted beating each other up.
"That didn't come from the arena." Nero jumped to his feet.
"WAH!" His girls flew off his lap and toppled over each other.
Nero whistled, and the shadow of his guard, Terminus, descended upon the balcony. He landed in front of the emperor, kneeling before him. "Emperor Nero?"
"Let's check it out." He pointed to Gemini, who had returned from delivering the emperor's request. "Inform the people to remain calm."
He bowed. "Of course, Emperor Nero."
Nero and Terminus ran out of the balcony. Lord Martius pulled himself up and hobbled hurriedly after his son. "Nero! Don't just run off when there's a…agh, my blasted back! NERO!"
Nero, Terminus, and Lord Martius soon ran out of the colosseum where civilians were running in a panic. Nero scanned the streets and asked, "Where did that come from?"
Terminus peered ahead and pointed with his axe hand. "Emperor, look!"
The Martius duo followed his direction and saw two figures flying over the street. One was throwing down explosive pellets, rattling the nearby people into a blind panic. The other chased after the bomber with a sword in hand. As they flew closer, they could hear the two arguing.
"You can't stop this, you little traitor!" The voice sounded like it belonged to a young man, likely belonging to the chaser.
"I'm the traitor?! What happened to sticking to your principles?!" The voice seemed to come from the bomber, which was lighter compared to the chaser. They pulled out another cluster of explosive pellets and tossed them. "I'm ending this war here and now!"
"This is for our own good!" The chaser pulled out a sword and dove after the bomber.
The bomber pulled out their own sword and clashed with him. They struck at each other as they fell out of the air, soon landing in the street without injury. They dashed at each other, striking with ruthless intent. Sparks flew off each strike of the metal, each blade coming dangerously close slicing into the other's neck.
Lord Martius gasped. "What in the world?!"
Terminus scraped his axe hands together. "I'll take care of this." However, he stopped when Nero stuck his arm out.
"Wait. I want to see where this goes first," he said, keeping his attention glued to the fight.
The bomber dodged under a sword swing and kicked the chaser in the chin, knocking him through the air. They pulled out another handful of pellets and threw them into the chaser, blasting him across the street. The chaser dug his sword into the street to catch himself, then launched forward at incredible speed. He resembled a living thunderbolt crashing into the bomber.
"Enough of this!" He grabbed the bomber by their neck, lifted them into the air, and smashed them into the ground. With another burst of speed, he rushed forward, dragging their head over the stone pavement before lifting them again and bashing their face down a second time. "You're not going to stop this from happening!"
"You JERK!" the bomber yelled. "I hate you! I hate you more than anything in the—" The chaser slammed their face back down.
"Touch…of Zeraora!" Blue electricity erupted from his hand and coursed through the bomber, lighting up their body in sparks.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
Nero and Lord Martius stared at the brutal electrocution in awe. The bomber squirmed under its power before finally losing the will to rise once the attack ceased. Cloaked in a veil of smoke, they collapsed over the ground, their ragged panting clear as day.
The chaser panted softly, still keeping the bomber pinned down. "This is for our own sake."
Nero glared before approaching the victor. Terminus and Lord Martius followed behind, the latter clearly against getting closer. Nero crossed his arms and glared down at the victor. "I…don't suppose you have an explanation for this little stunt."
"…" The chaser lifted his head. "Emperor Nero Martius."
"To whom am I addressing?"
"…" The chaser pulled his hood back, revealing himself as a Pikachu. "My name is Jason Stormbreaker. I am the Fairy Knight, second most wanted man in Virdis, and the leader of the Foresters."
Lord Martius' eyes widened. "The Forester leader?"
Nero scowled. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your appearance? In case you're unaware, entering Telo Martius without my approval is considered trespassing."
Jason bowed to him. "A thousand pardons. I was hoping to reach out to you under better circumstances, but this one has been disagreeable lately." He kept his foot down on the defeated bomber's back. "We ended up taking our fight to the capital. She was planning to storm your palace and assassinate you."
Nero scoffed. "How…bold. And what is the purpose of your visit?"
Jason bowed again. "Emperor Nero, if you would allow me, the Foresters would wish to form an alliance with the New Chariot Empire."
Lord Martius gasped. "An alliance? With the Foresters?"
He nodded, glaring at the two superior figures. "The Foresters cannot handle another day of war. We've been pushed to our brink, and our resources are dwindling. We had nowhere else to go, but we were made aware of your generosity, Emperor Nero. Those who swear unquestioning allegiance to the empire will see good fortune under the god of New Chariot, correct? You seek to unite all of Virdis under a single banner. The Foresters wish to unite the region, and we would be willing to do so under your command."
"…" Nero glared. "What is this?"
"It's nothing more than desperation. We have nothing left to give. All we can offer now is to swear loyalty to the empire to spare us from this bloody war." Jason kneeled before the emperor, fist over his chest and head bowed. "I represent the Foresters in this decision. So long as you provide us with adequate shelter and resources, we will serve as your army."
Lord Martius looked to his son. "Having the second most wanted creature in Virdis could potentially solve our unresolved conflict with the Roar of the Wastes. Plus, the Foresters are infamous across Virdis for their tactics. Nero, this isn't an opportunity to be wasted."
Nero raised his brow. "It does sound like a mighty offer, but not one that can be accepted lightly. You request we house all your thieves? That's not exactly something I can just do without compensation. I suppose you know of the tradition within the Martius family?"
Jason glared. "Of course. To earn your trust, we must offer a priceless gift that represents the depths of our loyalty. Fortunately, I happen to have the gift with me. It is currently pinned under my foot."
Nero looked down at the defeated bomber. "This one? They are your gift?"
Jason grabbed the bomber by the hood, pulling them to their knees. "I offer you a new prisoner for your Centum Death Ring. Though I'm sure you'll have complaints, I guarantee she'll make a fine addition that'll bring glorious entertainment to future matches."
"…She, huh?"
Jason nodded. "Allow me to introduce you…to the new tenth most wanted creature in Virdis—" He pulled the hood back.
Nero and Lord Martius' eyes widened as they met the eyes of a scorched, angry Buneary with blood dripping down the left side of her face.
"Skill Hunter Harlow."
