Reborn in Record of Ragnarok/SNV (w Powers)

The air was thick with the scent of sweat, iron, and dust as Lucius Aelius Varro stood at the head of his legions. The banners of Rome, now bearing the sigil of his new imperial vision, fluttered proudly in the wind. The Punic Wars were behind him. Carthage had been burned to the ground, salted to ensure no empire would rise from its ashes again. But his vision did not end with Africa. It stretched beyond the known world—across vast oceans, through harsh deserts, and into the deepest corners of the East.

Rome would not merely be a republic. It would be his empire. A new world order forged in steel, strategy, and innovation.

As the legions gathered at the borders of Gaul, the soldiers stood ready, adorned in improved segmented armor, armed with refined steel blades, and carrying early forms of firearms powered by the black powder Lucius had introduced. His empire was already decades ahead of the world.

"Men," Lucius called out, his voice carrying over the gathered forces. "What do we want?"

"Glory!" they roared back.

"And what will we take?"

"The world!"

A grin spread across Lucius' face. He loved these men. Rough, battle-hardened warriors who fought, bled, and laughed together. War was not just their duty—it was their pleasure.

"First, Gaul," Lucius declared. "Then Germania, Hispania, Britannia, and beyond. We will set sail to lands untouched by Rome. We will find the edge of the world and mark it with our banners!"

The soldiers cheered, raising weapons and shields, slamming them together like thunder crashing across the plains.

With a wave of his hand, the march began.

The first skirmishes against the Gauls were bloody, but Lucius had planned well. The barbarian tribes were fierce, but they lacked coordination. He deployed his troops in Napoleonic formations, using quick, maneuverable cohorts to encircle their foes, cutting off supply lines, forcing the enemy into disadvantageous terrain.

The battle was not without its humor, though.

During a particularly gruesome skirmish, one of Lucius' centurions, Marcus, cut down a Gaul only to slip on a patch of mud and land flat on his back.

"By Jupiter's left nut, Marcus!" another soldier cackled. "You nearly killed yourself before they could!"

Laughter erupted across the ranks as Marcus groaned, flipping the man off before pulling himself up.

Lucius himself fought in the front ranks, striking down enemies with calculated efficiency, his twin eye abilities allowing him to predict movements before they even happened. Every strike was perfectly placed. Every dodge calculated. It was art.

"That's three heads in ten seconds, Commander!" one soldier called out. "You slowing down on us?"

Lucius smirked, grabbed a fallen enemy spear, and hurled it clean through three Gauls at once.

"How about that?" he shot back.

The men cheered, chanting his name as they continued to push forward. War was brutal, but with Lucius leading them, it was fun.

With Gaul crushed, Rome surged forward like an unstoppable force. Germania fell under disciplined steel, Britannia crumbled as the first Roman firearms tore through their warriors, and soon, all of Europe stood under one banner.

But Lucius was not done.

His engineers, now equipped with the foundations of steam power and early electrical concepts, constructed grand fleets unlike anything the world had seen. Massive warships powered by early combustion engines, armed with long-range cannons and reinforced with Roman concrete, prepared to set sail.

Lucius stood at the helm of the Imperator, his flagship, as they set out across the Atlantic.

"We sail into the unknown, men," he declared. "But when we land, we shall call it Roman soil!"

And so, Rome discovered America centuries before anyone else. The native tribes stood no chance against Rome's advanced weaponry and tactics. Lucius, however, ruled with intelligence—he did not seek to slaughter, but to integrate, absorbing cultures and manpower into his growing empire.

With the world under his banner, only one great power remained—China.

The death of Qin Shi Huang had left a power vacuum, and Lucius saw his chance. His legions marched eastward, armed with newly developed rifles and explosives. The Silk Road was now a highway of war.

Yet, as he prepared to invade, he felt something shift in the world. A divine presence.

The gods were watching.

And they would not sit idly by as one man sought to claim the entire world.

Lucius merely smirked.

"Let them try."

Here are the Outfits for Lucius(If not here, check the Comment section):