HBWnovel Chapter 945 163: Ruins of the City of Seven Hills
Chapter 945 163: Ruins of the City of Seven Hills
As the former capital of the Romulus Empire, the Seven Hills City witnessed the most glorious era of this vast Empire.Initially, it was merely seven hills by the Tiber River, but as the Empire's iron cavalry conquered lands far and wide, this capital absorbed the essence of the entire civilized world like a sponge.
From the air, the whole city radiates outwards, with twelve main roads extending from the city center like rays of the sun.
The outermost city wall circumscribes over twenty kilometers, encompassing the whole plain and hills.
Triumphal arches of marble stand towering at each of the city's main avenues, engraved with the achievements of the Empire's past emperors.
The grand arena in the city center is a marvel of architecture, with its oval stands accommodating more than eighty thousand spectators.
During the Empire's zenith, thrilling performances were staged here daily: from life-and-death duels of gladiators with real swords, to battles between exotic beasts and warriors, and even small naval battle simulations in flooded grounds — the tactics of the entire Mediterranean fleet could be reproduced here.
The shouts from the audience seats were said to echo several miles away.
Not far away, the Pantheon showcased the zenith of the Empire's architectural artistry.
The giant dome, measuring 43 meters in diameter, remains a marvel in architectural history. Its circular opening at the top lets sunlight cascade down like a waterfall, illuminating the statues of deities within the hall.
These statues, crafted from the finest marble and bronze, were each worth a fortune.
In the northern part of the city, the hippodrome was exceedingly luxurious, with a 600-meter track flanked by obelisks from the Desert Kingdom and bronze statues from the Aegean Sea.
Nobles would spend lavishly here, betting on the charioteers they supported.
Adjacent to it, the grand theater staged the finest dramas, ranging from classical tragedies to comedies, with something for everyone.
Yet what scholars yearned for the most was that world-renowned grand library.
The three-story building housed over seven hundred thousand scrolls of papyrus and parchment, encompassing all the knowledge of the world known at that time.
Precious texts from Alexandria, Athens, and Babylon were meticulously copied and preserved here.
The library's dome was painted with exquisite star maps, and the marble floor embedded with world maps.
Every corner of Seven Hills City exuded cultural and artistic ambiance.
Fountains along the streets were sculpted by the most outstanding artists; monuments on squares recorded great historical events; even the walls of ordinary residences often adorned with beautiful mosaic paintings.
It was not only a political center but also the undisputed cultural heart of the old world.
Scholars, artists, and philosophers from all over the Empire gathered here, jointly composing the splendid chapter of human civilization.
But all this splendor has now transformed into frozen ruins. The biting north wind carries snowflakes, wailing through the broken columns and arches, mourning the passing of this great city.
The once crowded arena now consists of a half-circle of crumbling stands. The imperial box once inlaid with ivory and gold is now covered by thick layers of ice; the gladiators' bloody battleground is now filled with dirty snow stains.
A gaunt wolf darts out from under a collapsed arch, sniffing cautiously at the unfamiliar scent in the air, before quickly disappearing into the depths of the ruins.
The Pantheon's dome has long since collapsed, and the circular opening that once let sunlight pour down like divine grace now only reveals a leaden grey sky.
The priceless statues within the hall are either eroded by ice and snow beyond recognition or intentionally smashed.
The sacrifices by Old Gods' adherents angered the survivors. They might not be able to confront the adherents of the Old Gods with the divine power granted, but destroying the statues after those evil ones left was within their reach.
Yet, the most heartbreaking was that library that once gathered the crystallization of human wisdom.
Priests stood in front of the charred ruins, hearts pained to the point of being nearly unable to breathe.
Charred fragments of parchment scattered like black snowflakes among the accumulated snow, with occasionally a few incomplete characters visible.
An elderly priest fell to his knees, his trembling fingers gently touching a charred clay tablet – vague traces of ancient cuneiform could still be seen upon it.
"These... these are the treasures of human civilization..." His voice choked, with tears welling up in his eyes behind his glasses: "And now... now it's all turned to ashes..."
The library's dome star map had long since fallen, the stars crafted from pure gold scattered throughout the ruins.
A priest picked up a broken piece of mosaic from the snow, bearing the fragmented visage of an ancient Greek philosopher.
He carefully placed it in his bosom, as if doing so would rescue a fragment of lost civilization.
The entire city was like a giant's corpse, with collapsed pillars like broken ribs, and crumbling arches resembling gaping wounds.
Beneath these remnants of civilization, survivors scurried like mice, using the crystallized wisdom of their ancestors as fuel for warmth.
The leader of the priests stared at these ruins, tightening the holy scripture in his hand — they brought not only the faith of the New God but also the hope for rebuilding civilization.
Under the guidance of the Floating City engineers, the first mobile Energy Tower was erected on the ruins of Seven Hills Square within just three days.