Silence before the storm, that is the saying. But in this case, the storm had come and went, and now it was silent once more. General Romulus Invicta stood on a stage, watching as his enemy of the last three years came walking towards him. He was alone, walking the path his legionnaires had cleared for him, allowing him to walk towards Romulus unhindered.

No pony spoke, or cheered, over 50.000 ponies stood in complete silence, almost motionless as their heads only turned to watch the tall minotaur walk past them. His heavy steps, and the slight clanging of his armor was the only thing that broke that silence.

Romulus would have smiled with pride at his soldiers discipline, but he would not allow it now. There would be time for praising words, but not before it had ended, before it had really ended.

For eight long years, Romulus had fought in the unknown west, finding new allies, and new enemies. This one had been his toughest foe yet, and now after one last battle, the war had finally been decided. The west would at long last be at peace, and become stable.

Romulus had to admire the minotaur war chief. Even now in defeat, he held his head high, and walked alone to his camp, into the belly of the beast. Romulus didn't fear him coming this close, despite how large a minotaur was compared to a simple earth pony like himself.

They both knew at this point, even if he would dare to strike him down, it wouldn't change the outcome. Romulus had won the final battle, and now there was only one thing left to do.

A few final steps, and the minotaur came to a full stop only a few meters from the stage on which Romulus stood. There was a moment then, the two of them locked eyes. Both of them had seen many battles, seen glory, and death. Right now, at this moment, they were not Pony, or Minotaur, but just two warriors. A silent agreement passed between them, one that did not need to be spoken.

Instead, the chieftain reached his large hand behind his back, and pulled out the massive two bladed greataxe. His hands clenched the long hilt of it once or twice, until he tossed it to the ground in front of the stage. Then slowly, he got to his knees, his head lowered slightly, but his eyes never left Romulus's.

Two legionaries stepped up to the minotaur, and started to remove his helmet and armor, stripping him down to his tunic. One of Romulus's officers on stage took a step forward, and spoke loudly.

"Before you, Iron Horn, son of Iron Bull! Chief of the tribe of the Iron Hills! Commander of the rebel army of the west! King of all the Minotaurs! What will you have of him?" His officer couldn't help but smirk, as he stepped back, allowing Romulus to take focus again.

It was as if all the legions gathered held their breath. Romulus didn't speak, instead he gave an almost invisible nod to his standard-bearer behind him. The unicorn stepped forward, holding a large pole, with a flag, and on top, a golden pony. Using his magic, the standard-bearer lowered the standard so the golden pony was at eye level with the chieftain, now stripped of his armor.

For a moment nothing happened. Iron Horn looked at the standard, then glanced up at Romulus. Romulus just raised his eyebrow expectantly, and in that moment, the standard-bearer pushed the standard just a few inches closer to Iron Horn. Hesitating for just a short moment, Iron horn lowered his head, and placed a small kiss on top of the golden pony.

As soon as he did, a centurion drew his sword and held it high. "ROMULUS!!" He called. On cue, all the centurions and soldiers drew their weapons, held them high, or banged them against their large shields, cheering Romulus' name, as the centurion kept calling.

"Romulus! Romulus! Romulus!"

Author's Note

Yeah, I'm in a Roman mood. :)