Type-Moon: Does even a sneak peek make it official?

In the year 48 AD, with its conquest of Britannia, the Roman Empire had once again proven itself a true superpower — unrivaled in both economic strength and military might, solidifying its well-deserved status as the ruler of both land and sea.

Just twenty-five kilometers from Rome lay Ostia, the most prosperous port since Rome's domination of the Mediterranean.

The gentle morning breeze stirred the flags fluttering across the harbor. Under the clear blue sky, ships crowded the docks, the streets bustling with people. The sound of waves lapping against the seawalls, sailors loading cargo into ship holds, and merchants and travelers weaving through the crowds filled the air, overlapping into a vibrant, noisy symphony of life.

Amidst this sea of people stood a solitary figure, seemingly detached from the commotion around him. Curious and respectful gazes fell upon him from all directions, to which he responded only with a faint, knowing smile.

"Hey, Novia."

Hearing the voice, Novia, who had been calmly observing the harbor, slowly turned his gaze, landing on Lucius, drenched in sweat.

"Good morning, Lucius."

The youth's silver hair gently swayed in the sunlight, and for a moment, it seemed to glow like a golden torch set ablaze.

"What the hell were you thinking? Running off to Alexandria without saying a word? Don't tell me they forced you. I told you, those bastards aren't exactly easy to reason with…"

Novia didn't interrupt Lucius's tirade. He simply waited for him to finish before replying casually, "It was my choice. But you should be the one celebrating right now. So? How does it feel to be the new Governor of the Province of Britannia?"

Last night, after Novia expressed his willingness to head to Alexandria to deal with their 'problem,' Emperor Claudius had personally taken him back to the palace to rest. There, Claudius also revealed his plans to promote Lucius Longinus as Governor of the Province of Anatolia.

An unexpected stroke of good fortune. With Lucius — a fellow believer — governing Anatolia, it would essentially become Christian territory. But Novia also understood this was no impulsive decision. Claudius had clearly calculated this move long ago — after all, it was by leveraging 'divine miracles' that he had secured his recent victories.

Yet in the end, Novia had turned it down. Amid Claudius's confusion, Novia instead requested Lucius be appointed Governor of newly conquered Britannia.

Claudius hadn't entirely grasped the reasoning behind it, but since Novia insisted, so be it. It also saved him from wasting time debating with the Senate.

After all, Lucius may have served in the Roman army, but he was merely a centurion — not even a tribune, much less of noble birth.

But appointing him Governor of Britannia? The Senate would surely argue endlessly, but ultimately, they'd likely agree. Britannia had only just fallen under Roman control — a dangerous, volatile region where one careless move could easily lead to rebellion… or death.

"You sly bastard. If I hadn't gotten the message this morning, I wouldn't have even known you slipped out and spent the night in the palace."

Lucius shot a glance in the direction of Rome. Just this morning, still sleeping rough on the city streets, he'd been suddenly roused and informed that he was now Governor of Britannia. At first, he thought it was some illusion spell. Only after asking around did he learn Novia had already walked free from prison. Naturally, he'd rushed straight to Ostia.

"Haha, just a little surprise for you."

"Nearly scared me to death! I'm just a centurion — how the hell am I supposed to govern a province…?"

"Have a little confidence. You'll figure it out. Nobody's born knowing how to rule. I believe in you."

Novia patted Lucius on the shoulder, then leaned in and whispered so only the two of them could hear:

"There's a settlement by the Thames called 'Londinium.' Once you're in Britannia, spend some time digging beneath it. Make sure to properly mask the area with magecraft."

Londinium — what would one day become London — held, buried beneath its soil, the remains of the Dragon of Albion. That was Novia's true reason for making Lucius Governor of Britannia. It had been barely fifty years since the end of the Age of Gods. Those remains likely hadn't yet become a full-fledged labyrinth. But even if they had, it was still well worth the effort.

For Novia, though, a complete, intact corpse was far preferable.

"I understand. Leave it to me."

Lucius didn't press for details — unsurprising, really. In his eyes, Novia was precisely the kind of person who never set the hawk loose without first spotting the rabbit.

"Thanks. And next time we meet, try to smile more sincerely. Otherwise, you won't fool those old Druid hags in Britannia."

This, too, was a matter Lucius had once confided in Novia. His blindness was the result of a Druid priestess's curse. On the battlefield, he'd manipulated her emotions, deceived her — it led to her execution, but not before she left behind that cursed cross-shaped scar. The moment their enemies launched a surprise assault, Lucius's sight was gone.

Novia had never passed up the chance to tease him about it — "serves you right," he'd say, "all your own fault." Lucius, of course, always countered that he'd already paid the price.

"…Heh. When I was your age, I'd already handled a few like that. Hmph, want me to set you up with a Druid woman in Britannia?"

"Haha, no thanks. You just focus on your part."

After exchanging a playful punch, Novia departed with a grin, making his way to the grand fleet Emperor Claudius had prepared for him.

To the Roman Empire, the Mediterranean wasn't a barrier — it was a thoroughfare. With ships, one could quickly reach anywhere they wished.

The voyage from Ostia to Alexandria would take about a month, depending on the winds.

A while later, Lucius turned his gaze to the distant horizon. He stared at the vast, endless sea, watching Novia's fleet grow smaller and smaller, until it finally vanished beyond the waves. Only then did he turn back toward Rome, preparing for his journey to Britannia.

Time passed slowly aboard the ship. Days at sea were monotonous and dull. With little else to occupy him, Novia preached aboard the vessel — unsurprisingly, with remarkable results.

Finally, nearly a month later, Novia was about to set foot on Egyptian soil.

"So… that's Alexandria."

The sun shone brilliantly. The sky was clear and boundless. Perhaps the sea's deep blue came from reflecting such a sky.

With his magecraft-enhanced vision, Novia quickly spotted the towering, magnificent structure rising from Alexandria — the legendary Library of Alexandria.

But that library… was not his true goal.

His real objective lay hidden beneath the waves — an entirely different Library of Alexandria.

A secret counterpart to the famed library, constructed jointly by the Ptolemies and the Atlas Institute, forgotten even by Atlas itself…

A relic, long lost — now waiting to be claimed.