DLERB -Chapter 183 Rome’s Final Roar — “We Still Have Walls!”

On the highest wall of Rome—

Caesar stood there.

Beside him were all the Roman senators.

They stared out toward the distant sea.

That place had once been the glory of Rome’s First Fleet.

Now—

it was a sea of flames.

A living hell made from Roman corpses and the wreckage of warships.

“No…”

An elderly senator swayed unsteadily.

He saw the side of that mountain-like black warship, where a gigantic sphere of twisted metal was attached.

His son had been aboard the Victory.

And now—

he knew.

His son had become part of that hideous iron ball.

“Urgh—!”

Unable to hold back any longer, the old man clutched the battlements and vomited violently.

Nearby, a fat merchant senator trembled so hard his legs shook like sieves.

“D-devils…”

A warm stream trickled down his trousers.

The stench spread instantly through the air.

He collapsed onto the ground, pointing toward the Qin fleet in the distance, babbling incoherently.

“Sea devils have crawled ashore! They’ve come to punish Rome!”

“My gold! My gold!”

Another senator suddenly shrieked and turned to flee.

“I’m going home! I have to bury all my gold!”

“Idiot!”

Caesar spun around and kicked the screaming senator to the ground.

Gold coins spilled from the folds of the man’s luxurious robe, scattering everywhere.

Caesar did not even glance at them.

He drew the golden sword at his waist and pointed it toward the heavens.

“Stand straight, all of you!”

His roar overpowered even the howling sea wind.

“You are senators of Rome—not sheep waiting for slaughter!”

“The fleet is gone, but we still have the legions!”

“We still have the Golden Legion—the empire’s finest warriors!”

His sword pointed toward the solid walls beneath their feet.

“And we still have this city! Rome itself—a city built over centuries, a city that has never fallen!”

A trace of madness crept into his voice as he continued.

“What are they?”

“A bunch of barbarians from the East! They’re cavalrymen! What do they know about siege warfare?”

“They don’t even have ladders!”

“As long as we close the gates and hold the walls, their pitiful supply of food will run out soon enough!”

“And then they’ll kneel beneath our walls, begging us for a crust of bread!”

The senators were shaken by his speech.

The chaos calmed slightly.

Seeing the effect, Caesar roared even louder.

“Pass down my orders!”

“Rome is now under wartime conditions! Seal every gate!”

“All Roman citizens between sixteen and sixty years old are hereby conscripted! Every one of them will man the walls!”

“Including your sons!”

He pointed his sword one by one at the pale-faced senators.

“My own son will be the first to put on armor and stand atop these walls!”

“Yours will do the same!”

“Anyone who retreats one step…”

“I will personally cut off his head!”

“For Rome!”

The senators dared not speak again.

They exchanged glances, each seeing the terror plainly written on the others’ faces.

Some quietly gestured to the servants behind them.

The servants immediately understood and slipped away into the crowd, hurrying down from the walls—

to move their masters’ wealth.

…

Outside the city—

“THUD! THUD! THUD!”

Heavy wooden stakes were driven into the earth one after another.

A vast black military camp—strict, orderly, and imposing—was rapidly rising before Rome’s eyes.

There was no shouting.

There was no chaos.

Only synchronized work chants and the dull clang of metal striking metal.

Tens of thousands of black-armored soldiers operated like perfectly engineered machines, efficient and disciplined.

The Roman soldiers atop the walls watched this scene—

and their hands began to tremble.

The chaos inside the city and the iron discipline outside it formed the cruelest contrast imaginable.

Suddenly—

a massive creaking sound echoed from the Qin camp.

Hundreds of enormous winches began turning at the same time.

Countless iron chains, thicker than a man’s body, stretched taut.

The Romans on the walls stared with wide eyes.

They saw it—

that gigantic sphere of metal containing all their nightmares—

“Trophy Number One.”

It was being slowly lowered from the black warship.

“N-no… what are they doing?”

“Gods…”

Under the horrified gaze of tens of thousands of Romans—

that colossal iron sphere, over a hundred feet across, formed from the wreckage of Rome’s entire First Fleet—

was slowly dragged directly before the main gate of Rome.

“BOOM!”

The sphere hit the ground with a thunderous crash.

The earth itself trembled.

There it stood—

a twisted, ugly monument radiating the stench of death.

A pillar of shame forged from Rome’s own glory.

The city walls fell into dead silence.

Then came uncontrollable sobbing and cries of despair.

At that moment—

“RUMBLE… RUMBLE…”

The sound of trembling earth rolled in from the distance.

A black flood of cavalry appeared on the horizon.

It was Wang Li.

He had returned.

The eight hundred cavalrymen had suffered not a single casualty.

Beside every saddle hung several bloody heads—

the heads of Roman officers.

Several golden eagle banners, symbols of Roman legion glory, had been thrust upside down behind the horses, dragging through dirt and blood.

Wang Li galloped to the front of the camp, leapt from his horse, and dropped to one knee.

Facing the small figure standing atop the hill, he clasped his fists heavily.

His voice was hoarse with overwhelming excitement.

“Your Highness!”

“This general, Wang Li, returns to report!”

“Three thousand fleeing western barbarians have been exterminated to the last man! Not a single survivor remains!”

“This general requests battle!”

“I beg to serve as the vanguard and flatten this city for Your Highness!”

On the hilltop—

Ying Ziye did not even turn around.

He did not acknowledge Wang Li’s request.

He merely gazed calmly at the towering city of Rome in the distance.

Beside him stood a craftsman dressed in unusual robes, his hands covered in calluses.

He was the current heir of the Gongshu clan.

Ying Ziye spoke calmly.

“I heard that wall is their greatest pride?”

The Gongshu heir bowed deeply.

“To the people of mud walls and broken tiles… yes, Your Highness.”

Ying Ziye raised a small finger and pointed toward the majestic city wall glowing beneath the setting sun.

“Then let them be proud for one more night.”

He lowered his hand.

His voice was soft, yet it made Wang Jian and Meng Tian tense instinctively.

“Tomorrow…”

“Bring up the ‘big one.’”

“Loosen the soil beneath their pride.”