The crowd of citizens who had gathered to witness the event erupted in cheers, while the Lucanian slaves who had helped dig the channels and erect the waterwheel stared in stunned silence, as if they were beholding a work of gods or demons.

“Lord Davos, by Zeus’s blessing, this is truly miraculous! It’s wonderful!” Cornelius exclaimed, his voice trembling with excitement. “With this… this waterwheel, our Amendolara has gained more than fifty acres of prime farmland!”

“It’s not just the added farmland. It will also be much more convenient for the people to get water in the future!” Scombras added, equally delighted.

“Gentlemen, this is no blessing from Zeus. The one we should be thanking is Lord Davos!” Marigi interjected bluntly, causing Cornelius and the others to flush with slight embarrassment. “The waterwheel was designed by Lord Davos himself, from his own schematics. If any god’s favor is at play here, it is surely that of Hades!”

Davos stood by, neither correcting Marigi’s impoliteness nor displaying any false modesty. He needed these old-guard citizens to understand that under his leadership, Amendolara would leave its past behind and shine with a dazzling new brilliance.

The jubilant cheers of the common people stood in stark contrast to the discomfort of the few old senators.

Just then, Axistes rushed to his side with a message: “Izam has returned!”

Davos immediately delegated the honor of presiding over the celebratory ceremony to Cornelius, who accepted the task with a complex expression.

***

Davos and Axistes hurried back to his residence.

Izam stood before them, covered in dust and grime, his face blackened by the elements. His long hair and beard were a tangled mess, and he was dressed in the ragged leather robe of a Lucanian. He was barefoot. Davos almost didn’t recognize him.

It turned out that Izam had come straight to see Davos upon returning to the city, without even stopping at his own home. As a leader, Davos praised Izam’s dedication but also knew he must show his concern. He had a female slave lead Izam away to bathe, cut his hair, and trim his beard (unlike the Romans, the Greeks wore beards). At the same time, he ordered a lavish lunch to be prepared, inviting Izam to eat and talk with him.

Under the relaxed atmosphere Davos had intentionally created, and after several cups of wine, Izam gradually began to unwind. “Lord Davos…” he began, letting out a small burp. “As you commanded, I disguised myself and traveled over the mountain paths west of the Sybarite Plain. I first went to Laos. It’s situated at the mouth of a river the locals call the ‘La,’ where it meets the sea. The city isn’t large, but it’s built of stone and has a harbor, so its defenses weren’t too strict. I managed to slip inside and found work on the docks, hauling cargo. I got to know a few of the dock slaves, and guess who they were?” Izam asked, a mysterious glint in his eye.

“They must be Greeks,” Davos said, unsurprised. The Lucanians had raided Thurian territory many times, and the number of captured Greeks was not small.

But Izam’s next words did surprise him. “To be precise, they are descendants of the Sybarites. Laos was founded by the people of Sybaris. According to them, Laos was built to be a trading port, a midway point for Sybarite commerce with cities like Neapolis, Etruria, and Massilia. It was very prosperous back then. But after Sybaris was destroyed, Laos lost its support and was quickly conquered by the Nerulians who swept down from the north.”

“Oh, is that so?” Davos was genuinely intrigued. “Does that mean all the original Sybarites became slaves? How many Greek slaves are in Laos now?”

“I don’t know the total number, but when the Lucanians attacked Laos, some of the Greeks surrendered and joined them. One of the chieftains in Laos, a man named Avinoges, is a descendant of those collaborators. His tribe is also made up of Sybarite descendants. The pure-blooded Lucanians don’t trust them, calling them half-breeds and often insulting and suppressing them. And while the Greek slaves despise those who betrayed the city, they don’t seem to hate Avinoges. Most consider him a good man because he often helps them.”

Izam took another few sips of wine, his excitement growing. “Things are unstable in Laos right now. You see, the great chieftain of Laos, Tulla, and his allied tribes didn’t want Avinoges to get a share of the spoils from the invasion of Thurii, so they left his tribe behind to guard the city. They never expected that you, my lord, would lead us to wipe out nearly the entire invading Lucanian army! Ha! The great chieftain Tulla returned with only a few dozen warriors, while Avinoges suddenly found himself the strongest leader in the city. And guess what happened next?”

Izam was clearly a bit drunk, his words growing careless, but Davos didn’t mind in the slightest. A thought sparked in his mind. “The great chieftain of Laos tried to absorb Avinoges’s tribe?”

Izam slammed his hand on the wooden chair. “My lord, you are brilliant! You guessed it in one!” He grabbed a piece of bread, tore off a large chunk, and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing loudly.

Axistes’s eyebrows shot up, and he was about to reprimand the spy, but Davos waved him off.

“I heard from the dock slaves that Tulla invited Avinoges to a banquet. Something happened, because when Avinoges returned, several of his guards were seen to be wounded. Since that day, Avinoges has barricaded himself in his home and refuses to attend any more council meetings. I scouted around his estate; it’s surrounded by armed warriors on patrol. They say the only reason Avinoges hasn’t launched a rebellion is that he’s waiting to see what happens in Nerulum.”

“Nerulum?” Davos was listening intently.

“Yes, my lord.” Izam scratched his head, a bit embarrassed. “I had originally planned to head further north, deep into the Lucanian heartland, but Nerulum controls the northern route along the upper La River. It’s heavily guarded now, and no strangers can pass. Laos was originally subordinate to Nerulum, but this time, all of Nerulum’s warriors who joined the invasion were killed. I heard their great chieftain, Udler, even died at our hands. Their strength has been crippled.” Izam said this with a touch of pride. “The remaining chieftains in Nerulum are busy fighting among themselves for the top position. I heard they almost came to blows.”

As he spoke, Izam subconsciously raised his cup, only to find it empty. Davos stood and refilled it for him.

Izam remained seated, offering only a simple “thank you.” Davos paid it no mind and sat back down, eager to hear more. “My lord, remember after we annihilated the main force of the Lucanian coalition and rushed to their camp, we found it burned to the ground and littered with bodies? At the time, everyone guessed it was the result of Lucanian infighting. Well, now I know who did it.”

“Who?” Davos leaned forward, his interest piqued.

“The Vegi!”

“The Vegi?”

“Yes, my lord. Vegi is a city south of Laos, not too far away. It’s a Bruttian city. Because of the Lucanians’ power, they were forced to join the tribal league. But being outsiders, they were likely often oppressed, so…”

“Hmm, the Bruttians…” Davos stroked his chin. He knew even less about this native tribe, another of Thurii’s neighbors. He only knew that due to their geographical location, they posed little threat to Thurii but were a major problem for the Greek city-states to the south.

“I heard that after the Vegi fled back from the battle, they immediately declared their secession from the Lucanian league. They’ve fortified their walls and sent out numerous patrols along their border, sealing off the southern route from Laos,” Izam said, then took another long drink of wine.

“You do nothing but drink! You’ve said all this, but is there any news of Grumentum?” Axistes interjected impatiently.

“Izam ventured alone into hostile Lucanian territory, endured great hardship, and has brought back invaluable intelligence. A little wine is nothing,” Davos said with concern. “But you shouldn’t only drink. Eat more fruit; it will be good for you.”

“Yes, my lord,” Izam responded gratefully. He immediately set down his cup, cleared his throat with a few coughs, and said seriously, “Although I was unable to scout Grumentum myself, I did manage to obtain some rather accurate information about it.”

At these words, both Davos and Axistes became doubly alert. Grumentum was, after all, the true instigator of the recent war and the leader of the Lucanian league. Its every move was critical to Davos’s future plans.

“Pyxous is another port city in the Lucanian region,” Izam began, not with Grumentum, but with a different city. “It is the second most powerful state in the Lucanian league, second only to Grumentum. I heard it is also a city of stone.”

A city of stone! The words caught Davos’s attention. From what he had learned over the past half-year, the Greeks favored building with stone, while the mountain tribes mostly used wood. Given the precedent of Laos and the fact that Pyxous was also a port, he couldn’t help but suspect that it, too, had been taken from the Greeks by the Lucanians.

“Pyxous and Laos have maritime trade relations, so some news travels between them via merchants and sailors. It’s said that most of Grumentum’s warriors were killed by our hands. Their great chieftain, Akepilu, managed to escape but has been in a coma ever since. When this news got out, many of the tribes that had been forcibly annexed by Grumentum began to break away, and Grumentum is powerless to stop them because the chieftains in the city are busy fighting for the top position. Akepilu’s tribe is still the most powerful in the city, but his son, Lusau, is facing a formidable rival: Gnanit, the son of Cincinnag, the great chieftain of Pyxous.” Izam paused, picked up a dried fig, and popped it into his mouth.