Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 925: New Changes in the City of Rome

The district's roads had been leveled and compacted, with sewers dug along both sides. The streets were now wide enough for two carriages to travel side by side. Walking on them offered an unprecedented sense of solid footing.

The district's houses were gradually being demolished. (They could tear these buildings down so aggressively because the commoners living in Aventinus had mostly been reassigned to residences closer to the city center. Aside from the Temple of Diana, the district was essentially empty, making it easy to renovate.) Once the rubble and debris were cleared, new homes would be systematically planned and constructed. The crowded, chaotic squalor of the past would never return.

Stolo's gaze swept across the unrecognizable district and the brand-new roads, a sigh rising in his chest. The western slums had plagued the Romans for a decade. Every year, the Senate debated renovating them, yet ten years had passed without the slightest change. But under the rule of the Theonians, the area had been completely overhauled in a single month. Though they had taken advantage of wartime conditions, he had to admit that their decisiveness and execution were remarkable. They genuinely wanted to improve the lives of the Romans...

Thinking back to what Maenas had said, the conflict in Stolo's heart seemed to ease. Walking past the former slum, he saw a crowd gathered in front of the arena ahead. Most were relocated Daionian Citizens, along with a small number of Romans, all bustling about under the direction of two white-robed priests.

Stolo knew what they were doing. Word had it that the birthday of God Hades—the patron deity of the Kingdom of Daunia, who governed laws and the underworld—was fast approaching. Every year at this time, Daionia held a grand celebration in his honor.

Ten days ago, the Roman administrator, Asistes, had announced that Rome would also host the Festival of Hades. Stolo didn't feel strongly about it. Rome was already a polytheistic city-state with plenty of foreign deities—gods from Etruria, Sabine, and Volsci... there were even quite a few newly invented ones. But the announcement hadn't just caused the newly relocated Daionian Citizens to cheer; it had also drawn an active, enthusiastic response from the Temple of Diana and many Roman commoners. That was a bit peculiar.

However, after analyzing it carefully, Stolo felt it made sense. As far as he knew, ever since the priests of Hades arrived in Rome, they had been gentle and friendly toward the Roman commoners. They frequently offered free medical consultations and actively provided aid to those struggling to get by. Therefore, even though a Temple of Hades had not yet been built within the City of Rome—leaving only a simple altar—more and more people were going to worship him. Upon hearing that the Festival of Hades was about to be held, these Roman citizens naturally showed great enthusiasm.

According to the announcement issued by City Hall, not only would the believers grandly worship Hades on the day of the festival, but by tradition, several of the kingdom's slaves who had performed exceptionally well would be granted their freedom. More importantly, the Roman soldiers who had joined the Daionian side and died in this war would have their names carved onto a stone stele and enshrined within the Temple of Hades. Their souls would receive the protection of the Lord of the Underworld in the afterlife... These measures naturally garnered immense attention from the vast majority of Roman commoners and slaves.

Furthermore, a rugby match would be held after the festival. According to the announcement, every demos district in Rome had to send a team to compete. In addition, towns directly controlled by Daionia—such as Veii, Gabii, and Fidenae—would each send a team. One could well imagine what a grand competition it would be.

To be honest, even Stolo found himself tempted. When the time came, he wanted to go to the arena to watch the match and see what this rugby sport—which had taken the Kingdom of Daunia by storm—looked like in an official competition.

Stolo stood at a distance, watching the crowd work together to erect a tall Statue in front of the arena's entrance before they began to secure the base.

The Statue depicted an extremely muscular man with thick black hair, holding up a rugby ball in a throwing motion. The gold leaf affixed to its surface sparkled brightly under the sunlight.

Was this the Hades the Theonians worshipped?! Although Stolo was somewhat curious, he didn't approach for a closer look. He squinted at it for a moment, then turned and left.

Walking further ahead, the street became a bit crowded, mostly with passing wagons. Those heading east were fully loaded with freshly harvested wheat that had already been largely husked, while those heading south were packed with sacks of flour.

With the arrival of September, the farmlands yielded an abundant harvest. The Roman commoners who had joined the Kingdom of Daunia harvested the wheat from their newly distributed land allotments according to their previous agreement with City Hall. They handed over two-thirds of the yield and kept the rest for their own use.

(Since the Daionian Army had occupied Rome, these farmlands logically belonged to the army as spoils of war. However, Asistes made this decision after careful consideration to win the hearts of the Romans, stabilize order, and relieve City Hall from the burden of continually providing food and material aid to these Roman commoners who now belonged to the kingdom. This ensured that the Roman people could remain self-sufficient in food until the next harvest, while also saving them the cost of buying wheat seeds. The proposal had been approved by Davos.)

Not only could these Roman commoners keep all the harvest from their original fields (if they had owned any), but they also received this extra income for free. Naturally, they were overjoyed. What made them look forward to the future even more was that these fertile plots of land would soon belong entirely to them, requiring only a minimal annual land tax. Thus, over the past few days, Rome and the nearby towns occupied by Daionia had been enveloped in the joy of the harvest.

A few days later, City Hall gave the Roman commoners another surprise. The posted announcement explicitly informed them: funded by City Hall, Daionian engineers had worked around the clock to design and build several watermills, which were now complete and ready to grind flour for Daionian Citizens free of charge.

In truth, building the watermills had been nowhere near as time-consuming and laborious as the announcement claimed. The materials were readily available: there were plenty of abandoned siege weapons left over after the assault on the City of Rome. The engineers and carpenters were also right there; Davos had brought an engineering team of over 500 men, not even counting the Engineering Brigade of each legion. The technology was also well-established.

Watermills had been developed more than a decade ago by Mathikles, the vice dean of the Academy of Mathematics at the Theonia Akademia, and his team. They had already become a very common large-scale public facility across the kingdom's cities. All that was required was for the administrative officials to consider the needs of the people in a timely manner. Not only did Asistes consider this, but he immediately set to work, finally completing the construction of the watermills just as the harvest ended.

Asistes had served as the administrator for multiple cities in the kingdom. He understood the conditions of the people and knew well that while a harvest was a joyous occasion, husking the wheat and grinding it into flour was a time-consuming, laborious, and agonizing chore.

Before watermills appeared, the Greek people all used stone mills to grind flour. The thick stone rollers had to be pulled by horses or donkeys. To protect against the wind and rain, or birds coming to peck at the grain, the work had to be done inside relatively enclosed sheds, and dedicated people had to stand guard.

The incessant "creak, creak" of the stone roller rubbing against the millstone became unbearable after a while—not only for people, but for the livestock as well. The animals would refuse to work and sometimes even go mad, causing injuries. For the slaves of wealthy households, guarding the mill was the ultimate punishment. Because of this, Asistes believed that the introduction of watermills would deepen the Roman people's identification with the Kingdom of Daunia.

What in the world was a watermill? When the Roman commoners first saw the announcement, they found it strange. After all, Rome was an inland city-state focused primarily on agriculture, and its commerce was not highly developed. They had rarely interacted with the southern Kingdom of Daunia in the past, and the commoners knew even less about the outside world. It was entirely normal that they didn't know about this new invention, which was already widely popular among the people of southern Italy.

However, ever since the Theonians took control of Rome, they had gradually won the trust of the Roman commoners through a series of practical actions. Thus, quite a few Romans genuinely drove wagons full of grain to the riverbank at the Campus Martius. (The Daionian engineers had surveyed the river section near the City of Rome and found that the current of the Tiber River at Tiber Island was relatively swift due to the island splitting the flow. This was better for powering watermills, so they had built several of them there.)

To their pleasant surprise, they discovered that this miraculous device could rotate endlessly in a continuous cycle. Not only could it grind flour, but it was also highly efficient, and the quality of the resulting flour was excellent. It didn't require someone to stay and keep watch all the time, nor did anyone have to worry about exhausting their livestock.

Consequently, word spread quickly—from one to ten, then to a hundred. Every day, the Roman citizens across the entire city lined up along the riverbank at the Campus Martius, carrying loads on shoulder poles or driving wagons, just as they were doing now.

People who had just returned from the riverbank at the Campus Martius loudly boasted about the watermill's miraculous nature to those preparing to head over. Some even opened their flour sacks to show off the fruits of their labor, making the others all the more eager to rush to the river.

Hearing these commoners exclaim from time to time—"No wonder Daionia is so powerful, they even design flour-grinding tools to be so miraculous!"—each wearing an expression of shared honor, Stolo felt a surge of bitterness in his heart. He feared that before long, the Rome that had raised them would be utterly forgotten by its own people!

Stolo quickened his pace toward home. When he arrived at the Collis Caelius, his mood brightened again as people continuously offered him friendly greetings: "Stolo, you're back so early today!"