The Holy City of Jerusalem.
Around 1000 BC, King David conquered the city of the Jebusites, expanded it southward, made it his capital, and gave it its name.
After King David's death came the reign of the Mage King, Solomon.
Three centuries after Solomon's passing, the event known as the "Babylonian Captivity" unfolded. The Neo-Babylonian Empire breached Jerusalem, occupied and destroyed the city. The city walls were torn down, and only the First Temple, built by Solomon, withstood destruction. Even so, vast quantities of gold and silver vessels from within the temple were looted and carried off to Babylon. The eyes of the resisters were gouged out, and they were chained in bronze and dragged to Babylon.
After countless years, over six centuries later, outside Jerusalem—
A catastrophe destined to rival or even surpass the "Babylonian Captivity" was about to unfold once again.
After Novia's Roman legions swept clean the Jewish settlements, fortresses, and cave networks surrounding the city, the three-pronged Roman army converged and began a long, grueling siege.
Three months had passed.
The nightmare showed no signs of ending.
Though the sun had risen, both within and outside Jerusalem, the entire city remained drowned in bloodshed. The only difference between day and night was whether the city was shrouded in gloomy darkness or crimson-black twilight. The radical Zealots, in order to provoke the Romans into assaulting the city, had set their own grain stores ablaze, leading to mass starvation among soldiers and civilians alike. Corpses littered the streets, flies swarmed the air.
Extremist thought bred extremist action.
Every soul within Jerusalem entered a state of total war.
They would rather die than be driven from their homeland or acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah.
"Teacher, Mage Team Three is currently infiltrating Jerusalem's magical barrier under my command. All teams are syncing their circuits with the magical chronometers. Do we proceed as scheduled?"
Nero bowed slightly to Novia, awaiting his command.
Within the Roman Empire, it was no surprise that an entire legion comprised solely of magi existed—a collective that had abandoned individuality, entirely subordinated to the Empire's will: the Roman Mage Corps.
"There's no need to keep this up." Novia shook his head. "The Holy City, perfected by Mage King Solomon, isn't easily breached. I imagine Doros has long since abandoned reason and forsaken the fear of forbidden arts. No doubt he's relentlessly draining the blood of the people trapped inside."
Over the past few months, the seemingly inexhaustible magical energy radiating from Jerusalem had already aroused Novia's suspicions. Most likely, they were sacrificing human lives as fuel for the city's defenses. Otherwise, it was impossible to explain how, after being breached once by his "spear," the city's magical barriers had been restored so swiftly.
Of course, the Dragon of Albion had simply sneered at his speculation at the time:
"It's because you're weak. Back when I was alive, I could've flattened this place with a single slap."
After spending so much time together, Novia had figured out that beyond controlling the "spear," the Dragon of Albion's consciousness wasn't particularly useful. The magical energy still had to come from Novia himself, but at least the power was acceptable.
"So… continue the siege?"
"There's no need to drag this out any longer. Looks like we'll have to annihilate the city and the land beneath it altogether. Nero, have all magi prepare to provide support."
Since conventional means had failed, Novia's plan was simple:
He would draw upon the magical energy of tens of thousands of Roman magi…
And with the "spear," completely obliterate Jerusalem.
"Understood. I'll relay your orders immediately."
"Oh, and your headaches—shouldn't it be time for them to flare up again? Drink this. It should ease the pain twice as long as last time."
Nero took the pure, clear liquid Novia handed her and drank it down without hesitation.
Is this… the reason I've suffered headaches since childhood, Teacher?
The words rose to her throat, yet she couldn't voice them.
Perhaps it was the suffocating stillness of this place—silence so heavy it became almost painful.
"All these years… it's been your medicine easing my headaches…"
Her voice faltered halfway through.
"That aside, Teacher, though I know you'll never lose… if you were ever hurt in battle… I wouldn't be able to bear it."
It wasn't good, was it? To let anything outside oneself become your emotional anchor.
Years ago, when Agrippina had insisted on baptizing Nero, Novia had said to her:
"Her illness ends now. And her fate… is in my hands."
The meaning was twofold:
First, Agrippina could no longer poison Nero in secret.
Second, the recipe for the poison was to be handed over to him.
Novia recalled how, in the original timeline, Nero had been fed poison by her mother, Agrippina, from infancy. Even Locusta—the infamous poisoner known as the Mushroom Witch—had been unable to save her.
Novia had intended to locate Locusta in Gaul Province to seek a cure, but to no avail.
In the end, he was forced to develop a remedy himself based on the poison's composition—
Though his skills were limited, and the medicine could only provide temporary relief.
He wouldn't deny that at first, he had considered using the poison as a means to control Nero. It was the simplest, most foolproof method.
But after pondering for two days and nights, he had decided—there was no need.
Better to find a true cure before the "headaches" reached an irreversible stage.
After all… he was her teacher.
Naturally, this was not something he had ever told Nero.
Because Novia believed—
If a child were to learn that their mother had been poisoning them since birth…
No matter how strong they were, their heart… would break.
---
A while later, to the astonishment of the Jews within Jerusalem,
The Roman legions, who had surrounded the city so tightly not even air could escape… suddenly… withdrew.
We… we won?
But before the cries of victory could rise above the city littered with corpses—
Suddenly—
Just like the magical assault that had obliterated the Jewish resistance along the coastline—
A blinding pillar of light, as if it would burn the sky and earth alike, came crashing down upon the Holy City.
"Wha—what is that!?"
"I—I don't know—"
In that instant, witnessing the heavens themselves seemingly shatter,
The Jews upon the city walls descended into chaos and panic.
"So what!? As long as the Messiah is with us, we cannot lose!"
Time advanced. Destruction approached.
The pillar of annihilation, wild and unrestrained, raged across the sky like a tattered banner, carried by the wind, veering toward the flanks of the Holy City.
At that moment—
The city gates of Jerusalem, which for months had proven impenetrable—
Shattered into rubble with the casual flick of Novia's wrist.
"What… are you?"
Novia whispered softly.
Across from him stood Doros, radiating ominous, pitch-black magical energy.
His mocking bow carried no warmth, colder than ice, utterly devoid of feeling.
"I am the Messiah. The Word of God. All nations shall submit to me. I will build the kingdom of heaven upon this earth… and for that… I will slaughter every last one of you."