Not long afterward, Lypita again issued an edict of consulship on Caesar's behalf, and the Massellans moved inland far from the coast, i.e., from the old home of the Albysians, for them to establish a new city, a city-state far from the coast, without the fleets of former glory, and without the right to be called "Masseria". But the original Massellans were satisfied, they survived after all, retained their autonomy and priesthood, and were allowed to move the gods of immortality and Hercules to the new city, and then, out of gratitude, their newly established Council of 300 Presbyterians named the new city "Merisu", for reasons that were unknown to outsiders.

Caesar generously gave the Ligurian city-state the site of the city, but in addition to sending troops to garrison the ruins of the old city, the main municipalities, immigrants and fortresses were built around the port of Yar, presumably with this place as the core to build a new city of Massella.

In short, the old one, like the dead little Cato, has become a ghost in the hearts of all parties, never mentioning it, full of desire to let it turn into a mist in the waves of history, and it is good to dissipate without seeing it!

But the bloodstains of Cato's death are still expanding, slowly like a crack between the cornerstones of the republic, so that the pillars and gables above begin to shake violently, and now up to the officials and nobles, down to the peddlers and pawns, all feel that in the whirlpool of Caesar's war with Pompey, it will finally be dragged into the whole country and order.

In the harbor of the city of Ephesus, Cicero, with a scar on his nose, slowly placed the mourning report on the stone platform, and then groaned. Holding his head in pain. Pulling at your hair. Squatting in front of the seaside road before sunset, beside him were Brutus, Appis and others, who were completely stunned.

Although he didn't want to admit it, Cicero still had to say, "The death of little Cato brought me not anger, but boundless hesitation and hesitation." Seeing that everyone did not react, the governor of Silesia, who had just taken office and was attacked by the Eubernian army and seized all the territory, said to himself. I have commented that even though my friendship with Cato the Younger is no longer there, he has never wanted anything from the Republic, and the Republic cannot do without him. Now that little Cato has died tragically in the battle, this shows that the republic is finished, the flag and soul have been lost, and the black iron era of stealing peace and replacing faith with interests is still coming, and I am not fit to fight in this era, not suitable. As he spoke, Cicero himself shuddered. Then he stood up and shook his head. With a dejected expression, as if the whole world had collapsed, without waiting for Brutus to say anything, he continued to say excitedly:

"I had gone to Silesia, thinking that my job would be to ramble with the scholars of Asia Minor, and that the finances would be taken care of by my personal servant, Taro, and that all I had to do was recruit centurions and soldiers to defend the fortresses and streets, and to fight against bandits and mobs. But why am I so unlucky, waiting for me are the countless warhorses of the eastern barbarians in iron armor, emerging from the wilderness of the north in droves, like a black plague, full of fire, robbery, and killing, how can I hold the city of Tarsus? I don't have any experience, and the Barbarian Kingdom is not willing to sue me! Such gibberish infuriated Brutus, who tugged at Cicero's coat and asked him to calm down with great emotion, "If you still have the slightest respect for my dead uncle, don't say anything discouraged here, all of them are trying to recruit followers who will go to Italy to restore the republic and fulfill his uncle's last wish." The living should redouble their efforts for the dead, and this is not what others say, but it is said by my weak wife, who is now gritting her teeth and suffering from loss, but who is still exhorting me to be strong in her letters. ”

"Don't talk about being strong, don't talk about ideals! Ah, these cheap words, the psychedelic poison of people who deceive themselves! Cicero cried out, as if completely out of his mind, "You have given up your life to take it, but it will always bring you nothing but illusion and death, I am only an old man, I only ask to write a book in the shade of the trees, away from these meaningless fights, is there anything to reproach the other party?" Enough, I don't want to die in a foreign country, then I can tell everyone on the spot, I want to go back, to my villa in Palatine Hill, to my wife's side, and let an old fellow who has no ambition and no backbone die in the gentle country, or as a witness to this turbulent age, for I am only good at this. ”

"Are you still the same Cicero who writes dignified articles and is a decent person? You have said that the republic is the most beautiful institution in ancient and modern times, it greatly surpasses the democracy of the mob city-state, and avoids the dictatorship of the oligarchs, this is the article that influenced me throughout my youth, and I can still recite it, but how disappointed I am to see you now, like a weevil-like Cicero! Brutus grabbed Cicero by the collar and cried out angrily and bitterly.

"That's just my article, and it's a fool to equate the article with a person." Cicero pushed him away as well, retorting, "Do you eat an oyster so delicious that you chew it along with its shell?" Then I ask you now, if the blade of his sword rests on your neck, how will you hold on to it, if the blade of his sword rests on your neck? ”

Brutus took a long breath and let go of the other, then stumbled two steps back and forth on the sea, then stood in front of the rolling ocean and slit his thumb with a dagger, "Swear before the goddess of vengeance, henceforth in my Marcus. In Brutus's eyes, there is only a position of hatred, but no personal friendship, and my great enemy is Julius. Caesar, and the second for Aemilius. Li Bida, three for Anubis. Dehemoth, if I can't kill these three enemies, I will be in vain! ”

When Cicero heard this, he first laughed madly, and like a vicious court lawyer, he directly questioned the other party, "If you want revenge now, who else can you rely on, except for Ganeus. Pompey, and then—he's your father's killer, didn't you swear as you did ten years ago like you do today, but the target of revenge is Pompey? My baby. Then before Brutus could say anything, he shed tears again, nodded twice at Brutus, and staggered away.

At this moment, Brutus threw his dagger on the ground, knelt in the sea and covered his face and wept, but Cassiyo walked over and slowly helped him up, and then the two hugged each other, "Why force others to be with yourself? The way to fight in this world is often not that way. Cassiyo whispered comforting to the other and said. (To be continued......)