Chapter 551: The War of the Successors

The debate lasted until late at night, and Aetius's men finally gave up because they had no strength left.

All of them turned their eyes to Aetius, who sat upright in his seat with his eyes slightly closed, just like an Eastern ascetic who was resting his eyes.

Only the captain of the sergeant did not respond. No matter how much they said, as long as Aetius opened his lips slightly and said "no", all the words and arguments for so long would be in vain.

He must have heard everything that had been argued about, for in full view of everyone, Aetius slowly opened his eyes and looked across at the people sitting opposite him.

"Sir." Littorius leaned forward and whispered in front of Aetius, "Valentinian's guards are vulnerable now. We only need to guard against Luca and his army. I think we can act in the middle of the night, at least to prevent Luca from reacting."

Aetius did not rush to express his opinion on Litorius' proposal. He just stood up slowly.

"Everyone," Aetius finally spoke, "Now you all hate Augustus to the core and want to kill him as soon as possible, but I cannot do this, for God's sake."

Aetius's words surprised the generals and courtiers present. They looked at each other in bewilderment. This meant that such a long debate was worthless.

"But, my Lord!"

"There's nothing to say about this!" Aetius' tone was unquestionable. "You know, this is a major event that could lead to a civil war. We can't make a decision so casually."

Aetius was really disgusted with the officers and courtiers' behavior and was tired of their quarrels. He simply coaxed them all out to give himself some peace and quiet.

Sitting in the messy tent, Aetius began to quietly recall what the generals and courtiers had just said, and couldn't help laughing out loud.

"What a bunch of selfish bastards. They are so focused on their own interests that they completely disregard the current situation." Aetius smiled bitterly and shook his head.

"Oh my God!" After leaving the house, Littorius, who was the first to bear the brunt, held his head, his ten fingers deeply embedded in his curly hair and tore it hard. "This is so unreasonable, how could Lord Aetius become such a coward at this time! Where did the courage and fearlessness at that time go?"

It is not clear what his feelings are towards the current Augustus Valentinian, anyway, Littorius can't wait to kill Valentinian and then nominate Aetius as Augustus. There must be a lot of interests in this, anyway, it is good for Aetius to take the throne.

"Teres, Teres, look at me!" After the helpless crowd dispersed, Littorius stepped forward and grabbed Teres who was about to leave, looking left and right, like a thief who had stolen something precious and dared not make it public.

"What's wrong, Lord Littorio?" Therese looked at Littorio with a puzzled look.

"Wait, Lord Therese." Littorio held Therese's arm tightly and took him to a quiet and deserted place.

Tereus didn't understand what Litorius was thinking. It was not until he got here that he broke free from Litorius's hand and asked, "Lord Aetius' intention just now was very clear. Do you have any better way to prove yourself?"

"Of course, it's perfect!" Littorio whispered mysteriously in Therese's ear.

Valentinian paced back and forth in his tent. Even the women who wanted to serve him in the nearby villages could not make him excited. These women who had lost their favor could only sit at the head of the bed with their upper bodies naked, watching Valentinian pace back and forth in front of them.

He was so nervous that it was hard to describe. The pain he felt vaguely seemed to become a real thing and made it almost impossible for him to breathe.

"The throne is mine! The throne is mine!"

Valentinian kept repeating it as if he was possessed, but his mind was blank and he couldn't think of anything because he really had no idea what to do.

The two captains of soldiers had said that they would fight with him to seize the position of Augustus of the Eastern Roman Empire. But now they backed down after encountering a small setback. Their true colors were revealed. They were just here for tourism. No one came here sincerely to help him achieve the position of Augustus! "Caesar!"

A call from outside the tent freed Valentinian from his inner resentment. He stopped, raised his head, and called the man in. "Come in!"

Verus walked in wearing leather armor, holding a parchment in his hand.

"What is this?" Valentinian looked at the parchment in front of him in confusion and asked with a frown.

It is undeniable that at this time, when he saw this parchment, he was still harboring a sense of luck, hoping that he could receive an apology letter from either Luca or Aetius. Even if it was so tactful, he would be happy to accept it at that time.

"It came from Constantinople," Verus explained. "The messenger said that the owner of this letter said he was very close to you."

"Extremely close?" Valentinian raised his voice by an octave. Obviously, he was a little disappointed with the source of the letter, but with the idea of ​​​​a fluke in Constantinople, he reached out and took the parchment.

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"My sister, oh, this woman who brings shame to our family!" Valentinian looked at the parchment in his hand and smiled helplessly. He thought he was the most pitiful guy in the world, but he didn't expect that his sister, the bitch Hedolia in his mother Pracitia's mouth, was also in such a situation.

"Ha, poor guy, I'm afraid your children are already old enough to legitimately inherit the position of Augustus." Valentinian laughed and tore the parchment in his hand into pieces.

"Damn woman, you want to come back just because your child has grown up? Impossible, impossible, you usurper, you are just as damned a usurper as those bastards!"

Valentinian cursed, threw the parchment in his hand to the ground and stomped on it several times.

"Tell the messenger, Verus!" Valentinian had always believed that after venting his anger, he could make his confidence explode. "Tell my poor sister that there is no way she can come back unless I die!"

A week later, in a candlelit room in a small monastery next to the magnificent palace of Constantinople, Herdolia's back was illuminated by the firelight that extended to the wall behind her. The shadow cast by her thin body was as huge as a monster, almost submerging the entire wall in darkness.

She faced the fire, the tears in her eyes flickered faintly under the tiny flame, she bit her lower lip tightly, and her index finger and thumb of her hand, which was so thin that it was just skin and bones, held a gold ring inlaid with a blood-red gem.

This was a gift from her mother, Praxis, and if she had not fallen for the sweet talk of a young courtier, her life would not have been so low, and perhaps her mother would still love her as she did before, and still does now.

"You forced me to do this, you forced me to do this!" Hedolia's tears flowed like a fountain, and she clenched her teeth, her eyes full of anger. She raised the ring, and a sinister smile appeared on her tear-blurred face.

(End of this chapter)