Juleios’ words reverberated through the square, their clarity and confidence earning nods from Cornelius and the other five prominent citizens. His rationality and composure painted him as the ideal consul to guide Andolara through its fragile rebirth. Yet, amidst the approving murmurs of the original citizens, a subtle discontent simred among the newly admitted ones.
For them, this was not enough.
From the crowd, Xilos shouted, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "If he cannot be king, then let him be lifelong consul! Just like Dionysius of Syracuse! Syracuse stands unopposed by other city-states and is even sought out for protection!"
"Yes! Lifelong consul!" echoed Oliver, his voice stirring the crowd. "With Juleios as lifelong consul, we’ll never have to worry about weak or diocre leaders running Andolara into the ground!"
The chant took hold like wildfire. "Juleios for lifelong consul!" roared Matonis and Georgilos, their cries joined by thousands of voices.
The energy in the square reignited, the chants growing louder with each passing second.
Cornelius’ heart pounded. Anxiety gripped him as he watched the fervor in the crowd escalate. He desperately wanted to explain that Dionysius of Syracuse had seized power through bloodshed and coercion, not through the consent of a Citizens’ Assembly. Moreover, Syracuse’s unmatched strength made it untouchable by its neighbors—Andolara, weakened and fragile, could never emulate such a path without peril.
But Cornelius faltered. He lacked the words to confront the rcenaries, whose enthusiasm was born of loyalty and hope. Once more, he turned to Juleios, his pleading gaze practically begging the young leader to reject this unreasonable demand.
Juleios stepped forward, his calm deanor steadying the air like an anchor amidst a storm. "Since the citizens of Andolara have chosen to serve as their lifelong consul," he said, his voice steady and commanding, "I accept this position. I swear to Hades that I will use all my wisdom and strength to make Andolara prosperous and powerful, to lead you to a brighter future!"
The square erupted into thunderous cheers, a wave of euphoria that swept through the crowd like an unstoppable tide.
"This is madness!" one of the prominent citizens whispered to Cornelius, his voice trembling. "They don’t even understand what lifelong consul ans! You must persuade Juleios to stop this farce!"
Cornelius steeled himself, stepping forward with all the courage he could muster. "Juleios," he began, his tone pleading but firm, "Andolara has never had a lifelong consul. It goes against our laws and traditions. You must stop this now!"
Juleios turned to face him, his sharp gaze like tempered steel. "A farce? You call this a farce?" His words cut through the jubilant air like a cold wind. "Isn’t the Citizens’ Assembly the highest authority in a city-state? Aren’t all laws subject to its approval? Or are you suggesting the citizens themselves are wrong?"
The words struck Cornelius like hamr blows. Stamring, he tried to respond, but no coherent argunt ca to mind.
"Look at them," Juleios continued, gesturing to the sea of people below. "Would you stand here and tell them, ’Your choice is invalid’?"
Cornelius swallowed hard, glancing at the jubilant crowd. The unified voice of nearly 3,000 rcenaries was an unstoppable force. He stepped back instinctively, unable to et Juleios’ unyielding gaze.
Juleios pressed on. "After Athens’ defeat in the Peloponnesian War, even its citizens doubted democracy. The Thirty Tyrants ruled because the people allowed it. Many city-states in eastern Greece have already abandoned democracy. Andolara stands at a crossroads. Do we cling to the past, or do we choose strength and survival?"
Cornelius looked to the other prominent citizens for support, but they, too, were silent, their faces pale with uncertainty.
The weight of guilt bore down on Cornelius. mories of Andolara’s tragedy clawed at him. When the Lucanians attacked, the city had been torn apart by indecision, the consuls divided over whether to defend or flee. That paralysis had led to disaster. Now, as he faced Juleios’ resolute stance and the crowd’s unwavering support, he felt powerless.
The murmur of agreent began to ripple through the square. "I agree!" a voice shouted from the crowd.
"I support Juleios as lifelong consul!" cried another.
One by one, voices rose in support, each one driving the nail deeper into Cornelius’ resolve.
At last, Cornelius stepped forward, his movents heavy with dread. His heart weighed down by the enormity of the mont, he forced himself to speak.
"The proposal for Juleios to serve as Andolara’s lifelong consul has passed," he declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. "From today onward, Juleios will assu the position of lifelong consul of Andolara, until his soul returns to Hades."
The square exploded into celebration. The new citizens cheered as if they had won a great battle, their cries shaking the very walls of the city.
Among the original citizens, emotions were mixed. So cursed under their breath, others watched with detached resignation, and a few even joined in the cheers, swayed by the rcenaries’ infectious fervor.
Juleios stepped boldly forward, his voice cutting through the noise. "As your newly appointed lifelong consul, I propose appointing Cornelius as deputy consul to assist in governing Andolara!"
The crowd roared its approval, their enthusiasm undiminished.
Cornelius, however, felt his heart sink. The title of deputy consul was a cruel consolation prize, clearly subordinate to the lifelong consul. Juleios had not only eliminated Andolara’s tradition of dual consuls but had also consolidated power entirely under his control.
For Juleios, this was a victory ticulously planned and executed. His experiences, coupled with the lessons of history, had convinced him that fragnted governance was ill-suited to tis of crisis. Centralized authority, wielded wisely, would ensure strength and stability. The title of lifelong consul gave him the power of a dictator while avoiding the stigma of tyranny.
Standing before the cheering crowd, Juleios felt a surge of emotion. The sun was setting, its golden light bathing the square in a warm glow. The old Andolara was gone. In its place, a new city-state was rising—strong, united, and ready to face the challenges of a new era.
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