I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Nathan leaned against the worn wooden counter, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his half-empty mug. His black hair glinted under the dim lantern light, drawing more than a few curious glances, but he paid them no mind. The air in the tavern was thick with the scent of spilled ale and roasting meat, mingling with the occasional burst of laughter from the surrounding patrons.

He fixed his sharp gaze on the barkeep, a burly man with a thick beard and a wary expression, before asking in a measured tone, “Have any other Heroes arrived in Alexandria?”

It was a carefully crafted question. He couldn’t bluntly inquire about a Hero from the second summoning of the Empire of Light—no one here would understand such an obscure reference. Instead, he kept it broad, seeking any mention of summoned individuals.

The barkeep furrowed his brows, pausing in the midst of wiping down the counter. “Other Heroes? Not that I am aware of.”

Nathan’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the wood. He hadn’t expected a direct answer, but it was still disappointing. He shifted tactics. “Any important guests? Have any royal figures arrived in Alexandria recently?”

The man gave him a skeptical look, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe? You’re asking rather peculiar questions, aren’t you?”

Nathan’s expression darkened. His voice turned cold, cutting through the ambient chatter like a blade. “If you can’t provide even basic information, I’ll be taking my money back.”

The barkeep’s eyes widened in panic. The glint of gold he had just pocketed was too valuable to lose. He swallowed hard and hastily blurted out, “W…Wait! I do have something!”

Nathan’s patience was running thin. He folded his arms, his voice laced with impatience. “What is it?”

The barkeep straightened, his chest puffing slightly as if he were about to deliver groundbreaking news. “It’s only a rumor, but the sources are reliable. Word has it that the Roman Empire’s great general, Pompey, has been seen in Pelusium.”

He leaned forward, his face splitting into a proud grin, as if expecting Nathan to react in shock and awe. The surrounding patrons murmured among themselves, confirming the importance of the claim.

But Nathan’s response was nothing but a disinterested look. His expression remained as cold as ever. “That’s your news?” His blue eyes locked onto the barkeep with a piercing intensity.

The man faltered. “W..What? I just told you about Pompey! You’re not even the least bit surprised?”

Nathan tilted his head, utterly unimpressed. “I don’t even know who Pompey is.”

A heavy silence fell over the tavern. Conversations ceased. The clinking of mugs against tables stopped. Every gaze turned toward him, a mixture of shock and disbelief painted across the faces of those who had overheard.

The barkeep sputtered, leaning forward as if he had misheard. “You don’t know Pompey? You have to be joking. He’s one of the most influential men in the Roman Empire!”

Roman Empire.

That was the only detail that held the slightest relevance to Nathan. It was a distant land, far removed from the affairs of Amun-Ra, let alone the conflicts with Tenebria. The Romans had no stake in the battle against the Demon King. In fact, they likely saw the entire matter as little more than distant folklore.

Nathan hadn’t particularly cared about the affairs of the Roman Empire or its supposed great men. They were just distant figures in a world that had little to do with his own priorities. But now that he thought about it, the name Pompey did stir something in the back of his mind.

Had he come across it in a history lesson? Perhaps during one of those monotonous lectures back on Earth, when his teacher had droned on about Rome’s conquests and internal strife. He couldn’t quite recall the details, but the name wasn’t entirely foreign to him.

Still, that alone didn’t make it important to him.

Nevertheless, he saw an opportunity. If Pompey’s presence here was so shocking, then perhaps there was more to this than he initially thought. Information was power, and he needed every scrap he could get.

He tilted his head slightly, feigning casual interest. “Why is his appearance here so shocking?”

The barkeep let out an incredulous scoff, slamming his rag down on the counter. “You’re asking why? Because the man is in open rebellion against Emperor Caesar himself! And now, of all places, he’s turned up in the Empire of Amun Ra—the very land that Caesar has coveted for years, just like Alexander the Great before him!”

Nathan’s fingers drummed against the counter, his mind turning over this new piece of information.

“Emperor Caesar…” he murmured under his breath.

That name—Caesar—it struck him immediately. It was eerily similar to Julius Caesar from his own world.

The connections between this world and Earth had always been unsettling. Kingdoms, historical figures, even the very conflicts seemed to mirror those from his own history, though twisted and altered in ways he hadn’t fully grasped yet.

Was this their version of Julius Caesar? Another version of the man from his own world’s history?

Not that he particularly cared.

What mattered now was how he could use this situation to his advantage.

Nathan leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as he asked, “And what does the Pharaoh think of Pompey’s arrival?”

It wasn’t mere curiosity. He had just formulated an idea—an opportunity to gather firsthand intelligence from the higher-ups of Amun Ra’s ruling class. If he could get closer to them, he could extract more valuable information about the larger political landscape.

The barkeep clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “That Pharaoh? He’s just a child—a figurehead at best. The real power lies with the ones pulling his strings.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes slightly. “And they…?”

“They want an alliance with Rome. Desperately.” The man’s voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “So you can imagine what they’d do if they got their hands on Pompey…”

He trailed off, leaving Nathan to piece together the rest.

But Nathan didn’t need to imagine it—he already knew. It was obvious.

“They’d capture him and offer him to Caesar as a gift.” His voice was quiet, yet utterly certain.

The barkeep nodded grimly. “Exactly. They want to prove their loyalty, to earn Caesar’s favor before Rome decides to take Amun Ra by force.”

Nathan remained silent, absorbing the weight of that revelation.

Despite having summoned Heroes, the Amun Ra Empire was still weaker than Rome. That alone was a staggering fact. For all their divine champions, they were still at a disadvantage against an empire whose military strength came not only from supernatural blessings, but from something far more tangible—weapons of their own design.

And now, with Pompey’s unexpected arrival near Alexandria, things had escalated beyond anyone’s expectations. The rulers of Amun Ra would be scrambling to make their position clear, desperate to prove they had no ties to a man who had become Rome’s most wanted fugitive.

Which meant… the political landscape was about to shift.

A slow smirk formed at the edges of Nathan’s lips.

He could use this.

Nathan had little interest in the tangled web of political intrigue that spanned the vast dominions of the Roman Empire and the illustrious Empire of Amun Ra. Their conflicts, their ambitions—none of it truly mattered to him. But circumstances dictated that he had to approach the current Pharaoh of Amun Ra, and that was an obstacle not easily overcome.

The Pharaoh was not the type of ruler who granted audiences to just anyone, least of all someone like Nathan, a foreigner without rank or influence. If he wanted a chance to speak with him, he needed leverage—something so powerful that the Pharaoh and his advisors would have no choice but to listen.

And that’s where Pompey came into the picture.

“Where did you say Pompey was last seen?” Nathan asked, his tone sharp and measured.

“Pelusium,” the man responded. “Far to the east.”

Nathan gave a slight nod. “Do you have a map?”

The bartender, a burly man with deep lines on his sun-worn face, grunted and reached under the counter, pulling out a rolled-up piece of parchment. He placed it on the wooden surface, smoothing it out with calloused hands.

The map was crude, lacking the sophistication of Roman cartography, but it was serviceable enough. Nathan traced a gloved finger across its surface, stopping at Pelusium. As the man had said, it lay far to the east, positioned at the mouth of the Nile.

It made sense that Pompey would be there. He wouldn’t dare stay too close to Alexandria, where the Pharaoh and his handlers were eager to get their hands on him. Even so, something about the situation felt… off.

Why had Pompey chosen to flee to the Empire of Amun Ra in the first place?

It was a reckless move—dangerous, even. Surely, he had other choices. If he had truly wanted to escape Caesar’s grasp, he could have sailed beyond the reach of Rome altogether. He could have sought refuge in another empire, somewhere distant and neutral.

Unless…

Nathan’s eyes narrowed as he considered the possibility. Despite his recent losses, Pompey still commanded a considerable force. Was Pelusium meant to be a staging ground? A strategic foothold from which to launch an eventual counteroffensive against Caesar?

Whatever the case, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Nathan finally had a plan.

Pompey was his key—his bargaining chip. If he could capture the Roman general, he could use him as leverage to force the Pharaoh and his court to talk. Ameriah and Auria… He needed answers about them. And fast.

Fortunately, both of them were too valuable to be killed. They will be treated well but for which purpose?

He needed to hurry up.

The quickest way to reach Pelusium was by sea, not by land. There was no question about it—he needed to head to the port of Alexandria and secure passage on the first available ship.

With that decision made, he rose from his seat.

“You’re going to Pelusium, aren’t you?”

A voice cut through the din of the tavern.

Nathan turned his head. The man who had spoken was seated right beside him—a figure who had, until now, remained quiet.

The stranger smirked at him, his eyes gleaming.