Antiochus and many other small exiled kings had begged Septimus for help in restoring their kingdoms.
Septimus had ambiguously refused and taken advantage of the bribes directed at the clone commanders and clone officers of the army.
With Septimus's permission, Antiochus entered with a radiant smile and greeted Septimus.
"Great General Septimus, I have heard that you have expelled Mithridates. On behalf of the Syrian royal family, I have come to sincerely congratulate you. May the god of war, Mars, always accompany you!" said Antiochus with a humble expression.
Septimus smiled at Antiochus's boastfulness.
Syria has already lost its country, so where is the Syrian royal family now?
Septimus lost patience with the man.
"If you want to restore your country, you are dreaming. I will not allow Syria to be restored," said Septimus calmly.
Antiochus's expression changed slightly as he spoke. "General, what do you mean? Do you not intend to attack Armenia?"
"It is difficult to say. If he rejects my proposal, I will probably continue attacking Armenia," replied Septimus calmly.
"Did you not allow Diotarus to restore his kingdom? Why can we not restore ours as well?"
"At that time I needed a strong ally, so I allowed Galatia to regain its independence. Now I have enough allies, so there is no need to allow Syria to regain its independence," replied Septimus indifferently, unwilling to continue playing with Antiochus.
"What are your plans for dealing with the situation in Syria?" asked Antiochus while frowning.
"Establishing a province of Syria."
Septimus's words were like a sharp knife that pierced Antiochus's heart, and his face darkened.
Septimus knew that Antiochus's hidden money could no longer continue maintaining large bribes among the clone officers.
In short, Antiochus was running out of money, and Septimus planned to take a large portion of it from him.
On the other hand, Antiochus thought to himself, "How unfair the gods are, allowing Syria to first be conquered by Armenia and then turned into a province by Rome!"
"But..." said Septimus calmly.
Upon hearing Septimus, Antiochus's face immediately emerged from its stupor, as if he were clinging to a lifeline, and he hurriedly asked, "But what?"
"If you manage to distinguish yourself in this war, I can allow you to govern Syria under a mandate, but you will still have to obey the orders of the Governor-General of Syria, and the territory you govern will be considerably reduced," said Septimus calmly.
The territory of Armenia was so extensive that, with the help of these deposed rulers, Armenia could easily collapse.
"Govern through a mandate?" asked Antiochus with a perplexed expression.
"Yes," said Septimus calmly.
In the final days of the Roman Empire, some provinces were governed through mandates, such as Palestine, which still had its own rulers, but was obligated to pay taxes to Rome and obey the orders of the governor.
Upon understanding the circumstances of the new government, Antiochus felt greatly tempted.
Although he would have to hold the title of Governor-General of Syria and would have to pay taxes to Rome, being the prince of Syria was still better than being the ruler of a fallen kingdom.
"Go back and think about it carefully," said Septimus as he dismissed Antiochus.
The decision Antiochus would make would be very important for his future, and no matter how tempted he was, he would have to think about it.
Antiochus came out of his thoughts and quickly said, "I have prepared a gift for the general, and I hope you will accept it."
"I will accept it on behalf of the soldiers," said Septimus calmly.
---
Inside the Training School for Prisoner Gladiators in the Campania region.
A group of gladiators was eating, boasting about how brave they had been in the day's combat and how easily they had killed their enemies.
Some had grim expressions because they had lost friends during the fights.
Curius and Spartacus listened to the conversations around them while waiting in line to collect food.
After spending these days together, the two had become best friends.
Curius had killed a usurer who tried to take advantage of his wife and consequently ended up as a slave.
"I did not expect two more people to die. The arena is truly cruel," said Spartacus with a sigh.
"Yes, most gladiators die after winning only a few fights; those who survive are the true strong men," said Curius calmly.
Gladiator fights in the Campania region were very frequent, and many gladiators spread their blood throughout the arena.
Because of the war, slaves in Rome had dropped in price, and Spartacus and his group of deserters were lucky enough to have a respite to train and adapt.
The Campania region had an abundance of gladiator slaves.
"Very well, here is your food. You did very well today. The master said he will give you extra meat, and you can also enjoy a small jug of wine."
At that moment, the slave serving the food put some white paste into the bowl of a German slave while adding a few pieces of meat and giving him a small jug of wine.
"Haha, I can drink again."
The German gladiator laughed, took the wine, and drank it in large gulps.
Upon contemplating the fragrant pieces of meat and the wine, Spartacus and Curius swallowed with difficulty.
Since they had been enslaved, they had never tasted meat or drunk wine.
Finally, it was Spartacus and Curius's turn.
"You must train hard and become official gladiators as soon as possible," said the slave serving the food while serving a bowl of barley paste and two slices of black bread to Spartacus and Curius.
"We will," replied Spartacus with determination.
"Compared to that German's food, ours is garbage," said Curius dejectedly.
But after training all morning, he was very hungry, so he took a bite of the bread.
"Cough! Cough! What is this? It smells rotten."
After taking a bite of the bread, Curius quickly spat it out.
"Haha, they really ate it."
"Hey, boy, what does my urine taste like? Is it good? If you want, I can give you all you want."
At that moment, several gladiators who were eating burst into laughter.