"Tiberius, you've outlined the issues well," a senator interrupted, frowning. "But do you have a plan to fix Rome's problems?"
....
"Of course, if we want to solve these issues, we must first stabilize Rome from within.
Once that's achieved, everything else will fall into place.
Rome is strong, if we remain united, no one would dare challenge us.
Not the Gauls, nor the remnants of Carthage!
To restore internal stability, we must first regain the people's trust.
Our military needs a decisive victory.
Right now, Rome faces a manpower shortage, and if the people lose faith in Rome, how can we expect them to fight for it?
A demoralized army cannot win.
But I—Tiberius Gracchus—have a way to restore the people's trust. However, for that, I need to be elected as tribune to fulfill my vision."
.....
Tiberius clenched his fists, thinking of the many soldiers like Karl, veterans disillusioned and without hope.
He knew that Rome's current soldiers lacked the spirit to fight—because Rome had already lost its credibility in their eyes.
If he wanted to change that, radical reforms were necessary.
But he purposely withheld the details of his plan, knowing that proposing immediate reforms would trigger the Senate's defensive instincts.
Instead, he teased the possibility of his solutions, saying that once he was elected tribune, the Senate would see his full strategy.
This tactic of withholding specifics infuriated many senators.
Tiberius Gracchus was too arrogant!
He was dismissing the Senate as if they were unworthy of hearing his plans.
Compared to his father, the elder Gracchus, Tiberius seemed impulsive and inexperienced.
Looking at him like this, no matter how capable he might be, many senators felt his poor emotional control would hinder his long-term success in Rome's upper echelons.
As a result, several senators who had seen him as a threat now began to relax.
Tiberius' cockiness diminished their sense of urgency.
Letting him run a year early didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.
Besides, if he failed, it wouldn't be their concern.
However, some were still skeptical.
If Tiberius really had a solution, why hadn't he presented a concrete plan? It seemed like he was all talk and no action.
At that moment, one of the senators shifted the focus to Night.
"Tiberius… talk is cheap.
You haven't proven you're the one who can fix Rome's problems.
In fact, compared to you, I'm more inclined to believe that Lista Night is the real future of Rome.
What Rome needs most is a decisive victory, and Lista Night is the only hero currently in Rome with an impressive battlefield record.
I've heard that the only reason you're even alive today, Tiberius, is because your soldiers sacrificed themselves to protect you, not because of your own skill.
If we're going to give someone the chance to run for tribune, I'd rather place my support behind Night!"
.....
As the noble spoke, a trace of disdain flickered in his eyes.
This noble was from a faction that opposed the Gracchus family, and his words were carefully crafted to sow discord between Night and Tiberius Gracchus.
He was trying to exploit the situation, hoping to sever the growing bond between the rising star of Rome, Night, and the Gracchus family.
Given that the two had returned from the battlefield together and seemed to be close allies, he doubted that Night, a young man in his twenties, could resist the temptation of power—especially the allure of becoming a tribune.
After all, Night was much younger than Tiberius, and without powerful backing, his path to Roman politics would be long and arduous.
The noble believed that if Night harbored any desire for power, this opportunity could drive a wedge between him and the Gracchus family.
Even if Night didn't act on it, the seed of doubt might be planted in the Gracchus family's mind.
Either way, whether Tiberius or Night won the candidacy for tribune, the noble's goal would be achieved—destabilizing the Gracchus faction and possibly recruiting Night for his own purposes.
It was a devious plan, typical of the cunning that permeated the Senate.
This was a well-crafted scheme—open and bold, yet impossible to avoid.
Both Night and Tiberius immediately saw through the manipulation.
Night couldn't help but sigh inwardly—The Senate is beyond saving.
Even in the face of a national crisis, these corrupt nobles couldn't resist using the moment to strike at their rivals.
How could Rome hope to thrive when its leaders were more concerned with undermining each other than addressing the nation's true threats?
Did they really believe that Rome's internal and external troubles weren't serious enough to threaten their rule?
The once-great rulers of the Mediterranean—like the Gauls and Carthaginians—had also thought their walls were impenetrable.
Did they think they would never face a moment of reckoning?
Of course not!
And now—
Night, who had been treated as a mere spectator, finally spoke, but without any hint of gratitude.
In fact, he directly and sharply rebuked the noble, showing no regard for decorum.
...
"I may not know whether Tiberius is capable or not, but I do know that you certainly aren't."
The chamber fell silent as he continued, "The role of tribune—just one tribune—is something I'm certain he can handle.
Yet here you stand, someone who has never even stepped foot on a battlefield, belittling a man who had the courage to face the fierce Spanish rebels alongside me.
I can't help but wonder—what has become of Rome?"
Night let out a mocking laugh.
"You see, the election for tribune is merely a qualification process.
It's not up to Tiberius alone to determine if he is fit for the role.
Is there anyone more qualified than the people themselves to decide what kind of tribune they need?
If Tiberius lacks the necessary skill or virtue, then it is neither your place nor mine to judge him.
It is the people of Rome who should make that decision.
And frankly, it's quite odd that the Senate should be the one deciding on this matter in the first place.
By Roman law, governance is shared by the Senate, the consuls, and the comitia—the People's Assembly.
If you doubt Tiberius' ability to address Rome's crises, then why not call a comitia and let the people themselves decide whether he deserves a chance?"
...
Night's words exploded like thunder in the Senate chamber.
Even the elder Gracchus was visibly shaken.
All eyes turned toward the man, as many of the senators stared in shock and disbelief.
"The People's Assembly?"
Madness—how could he dare!
To propose that the comitia exercise its decision-making power was a direct challenge to the Senate's authority.
In Rome—especially among the upper class—it was common knowledge that the comitia was little more than a relic, a symbolic body with no real influence.
For Night to suggest reviving its power was to directly antagonize the entire Senate and, by extension, all of Rome's nobility!
.
.
.