The Sorriso Festival was at its peak. Colorful banners fluttered between buildings, the aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread mingled in the air, and the music of street performers echoed through the central square. To anyone else, it was nothing but another celebration of the Sun.

  For Lukas, it was the perfect battlefield.

  He walked among the crowd, a light cloak over his shoulders concealing the gladius at his waist. Every step was calculated. Every tent being dismantled, every barrel dragged by a merchant—nothing was out of place.

  To his left, a cart loaded with fake “wine” barrels was positioned in an alley. To his right, a troupe of masked dancers performed… while hiding three legionnaires moving spears to the top of a balcony.

  César, inside his mind, was unusually quiet. Until he finally spoke in a solemn tone:

  — Boy… you’ve turned a festival into a complete tactical redeployment. This… this is the work of a military genius.

  Lukas smirked. — I’m just applying what you taught me.

  — No, no… — César corrected. — This goes beyond. My centurions of the Tenth Legion would have wept with pride. You move pieces without anyone realizing they’re part of the game.

  Morgana slid into the conversation with her sweet, mocking tone:

  — Pieces… hm… I know very well how he moves things with precision, César.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  — Silence, demoness. — César snapped.

  Lukas looked upward. — Don’t worry, we’re almost at the second act.

  The “second act” was a theatrical play in the square. While the audience was focused on the actors, the secondary gates were quietly locked from the inside, leaving only pre-planned escape routes open. Guards disguised as vendors collected coins… but in truth, they were spreading small runes of alarm across the ground.

  Catarina appeared among the crowd, pretending to hand out pamphlets for a raffle. In reality, each pamphlet contained coded instructions, teaching civilians where to evacuate if an attack began.

  César couldn’t hold back:

  — This… this is brilliant. You’re training the population during a festival, and they don’t even notice.

  Lukas gave a faint smile. — And without causing panic.

  Meanwhile, near the main stage, musicians played a rhythm that was just music for the dancers… but for trained legionnaires, it signaled coded timing and movement. A war clock disguised as melody.

  Morgana sighed, feigning boredom:

  — All very clever… but I prefer when you put me in charge, chocolatinho.

  — This is command, Morgana. — Lukas replied in his mind. — The kind that keeps people alive.

  — Hmph… you and your hero complex… — she teased. — But I won’t lie… watching you move all these pieces… is exciting.

  César growled:

  — This is why Rome fell… women like you, Morgana.

  Lukas didn’t answer. He only watched a group of children running with colorful ribbons—each ribbon marked the exact spot where an emergency blockade would later be placed.

  The festival went on. Laughter, music, dancing. But beneath it all, invisible gears were turning, transforming the city into a living fortress.

  César’s voice, almost emotional, echoed in Lukas’ mind:

  — Boy… you’re the general I wish I had at my side on the worst day of my life.

  And Lukas just kept walking, certain that no one around realized they were already inside a fortress of flesh and will.

  End of chapter 6