Chapter 20
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Julius Caesar (11)
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There's a saying that superstars drive both superfans and haters completely insane.
Of course, Ulysses, who was currently serializing his first work in the newspaper, hadn't yet attracted fans that extreme—or haters on the level of venomous snakes.
And besides.
The content was a continuation of what had already run in the newspaper serialization, meaning it was essentially a treat only for existing readers.
But.
Ulysses and Gilford made a bold decision.
In the opening of what was nicknamed the "Fallen Noble Politics 27-Chapter Edition," they excerpted and inserted some of the famous scenes from past installments that had drawn huge acclaim.
Thanks to that, even people who hadn't caught the early parts in the newspaper could fully grasp the story from just this one volume.
As a result, readers quickly dove into Caesar's war saga.
The part that especially captured attention was this.
The fact that it was a purely human story.
In most novels, the protagonist is some extraordinary figure—like a hero blessed with divine powers or a mage wielding magic at will.
Their allies are the same.
Whether it's a dragon out on a joyride or a sunny elf raised in the woods, clueless about the world.
Stories in this world are usually built from a blend of myths, folktales, and eyewitness accounts.
But...
'The Fallen Noble Excels at Politics' fundamentally diverged from the pack.
No divine powers from the Goddess.
No magic from spirits.
No blessings from the World Tree.
No handicrafts born from the earth.
Only.
A desperate war waged by humans, for humans alone, unfolding at a breathless pace.
No sword saints cleaving mountains with a single stroke.
No grand archmages dominating the battlefield with high-tier spells.
The novel contained only ordinary humans fighting ordinary humans.
That made the story feel more special than any other.
Rumors spread from mouth to mouth, hand to hand.
Unlike Berthus Duke, who shuddered at the dice, most existing and new readers zeroed in on the Battle of Alesia.
It was the battle from Kim Yul's homeland where Caesar's name endured not just as a reformer of the calendar and a dictator, but as a genius general of reversal.
"To besiege the fortress... we will build a fortress."
When Caesar first devised the plan, even his battle-hardened lieutenants fell into stunned silence.
"Just establishing the encirclement line alone would be..."
Labienus cautiously spoke up, but Caesar's gaze didn't waver.
"Reinforcements are pouring in from across Gaul. Commius has betrayed us and joined the Arverni. Their numbers will easily top a hundred thousand. If they appear at our rear, can we respond?"
No one could answer Caesar's question right away.
They all sensed it.
If things continued like this, the enemy would inevitably swarm their rear.
And the wounded beast hunkered in Alesia fortress, Vercingetorix, wouldn't miss the chance to bare its fangs.
It was Caesar's calm voice that finally shattered the silence laced with despair.
"We will fortify this entire valley into one massive Roman fortress. To keep the rats inside from emerging... and to ensure the wolves outside don't dare challenge us."
.
.
.
From that day on.
The entire 50,000-strong Roman legion transformed into engineering corps.
Hammer strikes echoed through the valley, and mounds of earth dug up by shovels rose as new ramparts.
Construction began with the inner encirclement line.
Two parallel trenches dug, topped with earthen walls reinforced by parapets and stockades, watchtowers rising at regular intervals.
And layered on top.
"Plant the lilies!"
Wooden flowers bloomed vividly in pits.
Before them, hooked iron caltrops were scattered, and at the forefront stood graves for any fools daring to set foot in this death trap.
Of course, Vercingetorix didn't just sit idly by.
"Enemy attack! Prepare!"
While the engineers toiled away, Gallic elite cavalry charged repeatedly to disrupt them.
Each time, they fought with a shovel in one hand and a pilum in the other.
As blood flowed on one side, the other silently sweated on, digging trenches and erecting stockades.
Like a massive ant colony, they moved with absolute precision, bound by unshakeable faith in Caesar.
Once the inner line was complete.
They turned around and repeated the exact same process outward.
Trenches of the same scale.
Ramparts of the same height.
And traps infused with the same sticky human malice.
......
......
And finally.
"They're coming! They're here!"
With signal fires rising from the watchtowers, they faced the black horde of Gaulish forces swarming over the horizon.
At the same moment, Vercingetorix in Alesia fortress uncoiled his tensed body, ready to take massive strides forward.
"Oh, gods... Gaul has come to devour us."
The centurion watching the scene couldn't help letting out a gasp.
Amid earth-shaking roars and horn blasts that shook heaven and earth.
Now the Roman legion.
Had to fight two worlds: the inside and the outside.
Just 50,000 elite Roman legionaries.
Against 80,000 inside Alesia fortress and 250,000 reinforcements charging from the rear.
Of course, victory was a given.
Protagonist privilege.
While readers like Esthea devoured it yelling "He wins, he wins, he wins!" and "Fun, fun, fun!", others wondered.
"Hmm... Is this even realistic?"
No matter how elite the legion, could mere humans erect a 16km inner encirclement and 21km outer one in under a month?
Even as engineering specialists, was it feasible?
Some skeptical readers had those doubts.
And naturally, they gathered in the salons.
Ulysses—
The fulfillment of Kim Yul's dream: a world buzzing with his novel's hype.
The debate ended anticlimactically.
"Why couldn't they? Dwarves could finish it in a day."
"A day? Even dwarves couldn't!"
"Wanna bet? Beer for a month."
Dwarves with beer on the line are invincible.
Dwarf Bolin Blackrock, a construction worker in the capital, recreated the novel's description in one day—erecting a 200m rampart on the outskirts—settling the argument.
Theoretically, 100 dwarves could build 20km in a day.
Though humans couldn't match dwarves in earthworking, elite engineers could just barely pull it off in a month.
And a beaming photo of Mr. Bolin, plus his faithfully recreated "Caesar Rampart."
"See for yourselves!"
"Kuh, this beer's the best!"
Truth Newspaper's sharp coverage splashed it across the papers, boosting the fame immensely.
Through this process.
The pen name Ulysses, once known only to Truth subscribers and political novel fans, began spreading widely across the imperial capital.
And amid such fervent reactions.
"Yes, I understand perfectly."
Berthus Duke rationalized it once more.
"The essence of a novel is the protagonist snatching victory at the last moment, no matter the tension. It hints at civil war, but... Caesar will purge Rome's corruption and become a true hero. That's what it's foreshadowing."
A perfect interpretation—Kim Yul would've whispered, "Et tu, already within you."
Of course...
"...Right? Can't afford to antagonize the Holy Kingdom here. Sigh, wish I could discuss this openly without the politics."
He couldn't fully erase the unease gnawing inside.
"Heh heh heh, hee hee heek."
"Don't crumble your bread like a lunatic, Kim Yul. Have you lost your mind?"
No matter what Historie grumbled, I decided to savor this moment's bliss to the fullest.
Perfect grand strategy.
Perfect grand success.
I'm a god, and twenty-seven in a row is invincible...!
The reason for committing what would've been seen as reckless overkill in the daily serialization market boiled down to two big factors.
The first was.
To Next Skill: +1,286 Daily Readers
Must maintain 1+ month (Day 0)
Expected Skill: [A-rank] Ki■ro's Wo■g■
From the Greek-Roman myths example, a single theme probably yields up to four skills.
Even if I didn't fill them all, continuing the Caesar storyline let me snag extras for synthesis.
But current readers fell short of the threshold, so I needed to grind my wrists harder and pull more aggro.
Compiling the serialization into a separate book was exactly for that.
To Next Skill: +933 Sales (55 days left)
Expected Skill: [C-rank] Ve■rkin■e■to■rix's Wi■
Slipping in a published novel like this.
It would siphon the main story's hype, and even if profits took a hit, it maximized system exploitation.
Profit-wise...
"Why borrow someone else's instead of buying?!"
"Would you buy it blind without the priors? Don't be reckless, Kim Yul."
"Fair point..."
Sure, disappointing—but it spiked daily readers instantly, so long-term it'd pay off.
"Off to submit the manuscript."
"Bring chocolate bread on the way back."
With light steps and burning drive, I grabbed the all-nighter manuscript and headed out.
.
.
.
"Heard the news?"
"Even the capital's cracking..."
"Elves are stirring up trouble again."
"They should just hug their precious World Tree and die."
The streets, usually bustling, felt ominously subdued today.
Memorizing the chatter, I reached the eastern plaza where the publisher was.
"Whoa."
I couldn't help but gasp.
In one corner of the plaza.
Where a bakery had wafted fresh bread scents until yesterday.
"Stay back!"
"Mind your step! You can get corrupted by demonic energy even if you can't see it!"
A gray rift hung in midair, exuding ominous vibes—like space itself torn open.
Is that the gateway to the Demon Realm I've only heard about?
What a brutal world.
"Please carry on with your daily lives safely! It's fine!"
Still.
Seeing Roselin managing it nearby eased my mind a bit.
She really is the Saintess.
I lingered a moment, watching her silver hair gleam in the sunlight from afar, then turned toward the publisher.
But.
"Stop the environmental destruction!"
"Scorched earth tactics are a crime!"
"Truth Newspaper, wake up!"
"Dwarves, halt nature's ruin now!"
"...What's going on here?"
Right in front of our publisher, a bunch of elves were waving placards and causing a scene.