For the Glory of Rome: Chronicles of an Isekai'd Legion-Chapter 33B3 : In a Flash

B3 Chapter 33: In a Flash

Marcus was, but usually one to take cheap shots. Of course, he'd sung his share of crude and bawdy drinking songs with lyrics simple enough that a borderline catatonic man could follow along. But when it came to original compositions? He preferred subtlety and a layering of meaning that demanded conscious dissection to be fully appreciated.

But Tiberius had asked him to be provocative, and, well… perhaps he wasn't feeling particularly charitable after nearly dying.

The response wasn't immediate, but that was only to be expected. The king himself obviously wouldn't be standing on the battlements to listen. But the series of pale-faced guards that disappeared and began running toward the castle proper made it clear that he'd hear of it soon.

In the meantime, Marcus enjoyed the mixture of open horror and amused laughter he could feel on the walls. It became all too clear which of the defenders were there out of loyalty to Novara and which were simply seeking a payday—one that perhaps was becoming less worthwhile, considering the occasional dissatisfaction and bitterness that laced the laughs.

He reached the second chorus before the king heard of his performance. How did he know? Well, the scream of incoherent rage that reverberated off the castle walls was a fairly good indicator.

It was almost the end of the song when the defenders acted—evidently, he'd done a good enough job at being provocative that they weren't willing to wait just a few seconds more. A bit rude, but he couldn't entirely fault them.

All along the wall, individuals lit up with myriad colors and raised their weapons. A barrage of ranged skills—arrows, spells, spears, even beams of solid light—sliced through the air from every angle, all headed directly towards him.

It took every ounce of Marcus's will to keep from flinching away from the assault. Not that he expected it to do any good. At least some of those projectiles had to have homing properties, and he very much doubted his ability to outrun the radius of one [Exploding Fireball], much less the three that appeared to be hurtling toward him. Thankfully, he didn't have to.

The Legionnaires sprang into action, snapping into place around him in one massive shell of shields. The world went dark as he heard the assault hammer into the men's defenses like a demented hailstorm. Yet the men didn't do so much as budge. Then, he heard something else. Muffled shouts and screams.

Marcus sang another [Inspirational Song] just to bolster the Legionnaires further. His previous one had obviously doubled as a preemptive buff to the men, but it never hurt to go the extra mile. Especially not when it was his own hide on the line as well.

Yet internally, he swore. As grateful as he was to be safe, he hadn't really considered his own viewpoint on the battle. He couldn't see a thing from in here.

Without much else to do, Marcus tried to peer through the wall of shields, wondering how exactly the battlefield looked.

***

Tiberius had to admit, the man certainly knew how to piss people off, in a useful way. He doubted that even the Legion’s specialized [Taunt] and enemy redirection members would have this much success at baiting out an enemy.

The attacks came in from all sides, screaming toward the purple-cloaked performer before he disappeared beneath a solid mass of shields. They struck as an avalanche, each stopping bare inches away from the black and gold rectangles layered like the scales of a fish. Yet rather than clatter uselessly to the ground or simply disperse, the enemy’s eyes widened as their own attacks were reflected right back toward them.

Some of the more quick-witted fighters stationed on the walls ducked or dodged out of the way of the incoming projectiles. Others blocked or saw the attacks swatted out of the way by their neighbors. But most of them were not so lucky.

The ranged fighters were sent into a state of disarray. Cries of pain carried across the battlefield as archers found themselves turned to pincushions by their own arrows, and mages froze solid from beams of ice. And that was before the more explosive projectiles began to land, engulfing entire sections of the wall in gouts of flame and sending others flying off the wall from bursts of force.

Tiberius smiled grimly. They’d done a fair amount of testing to ensure that the defensive turtle formation specialists could integrate seamlessly with those utilizing damage redirection and reflection abilities. Still, seeing the fruits of their labors truly was satisfying. The defenders on the wall hadn’t been the most organized of forces before. But now? They were sent scrambling to recover from their own assault.

The Legion didn’t hesitate to capitalize on the opportunity.

Groups of half-mages stepped out from behind the barricades, finishing their incantations. Tiberius saw rolls of paper burn to ash as a series of tornadoes whirled into existence up all along the wall. The already off-balance Novarans were sucked off their feet and into the gales as the elven archers stood and fired arrows after them, turning the swirling wind into razor-filled cones of death.

He heard Grand Mage Claude shout something to the apprentices behind him, though Tiberius couldn’t quite make out what it was. Likely something about the scale or effectiveness of the spells. The man’s interest in this particular tactic was purely academic, of course, as the man still bizarrely refused to involve himself directly in any combat. But that didn’t keep him from using the Legionnaires to test certain things. When their interests aligned.

Within moments, the walls that had once been filled with defenders and royal guards were reduced to a shadow of their former selves. The tornadoes turned red with blood and gristle as Legionnaires hurled exploding spears and sling stones into the mix, along with whatever else they could use to make the Novarans’ lives miserable and short. The ones that managed to escape were rewarded with a hail of focused fire from elven and human Legionnaires alike, or simply charged by the Legionnaires that lay in wait on the ground below. Any that still remained had to face the all-out firing of siege weaponry as it battered the tops of the walls, which were holding up far better than the humans standing on it.

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Of course, the assault didn’t manage to completely eradicate the enemy. Several higher-leveled individuals not only managed to weather the initial attack but also kept their footing and avoided the follow-up assault as well. Tiberius saw the bare-fisted [Berzerker] woman leap down to charge a contingent of Legionnaires as the old swordsman sliced one of the hurricanes clean in half, causing it to sputter and disperse. The long-haired [Force Mage] lazily glided above it all, attacks pinging harmlessly off an unseen shield.

A net of shimmering metal shot into the air and wrapped around the mage’s invisible bubble. Purple sparks sputtered where the net met the force field, cutting into its surface as it tightened. The mage’s eyes widened, and he let out a small yelp as he and the net were forcibly dragged back down to earth—right into the waiting arms of mage-killers.

Across the battlefield, the scene repeated itself as contuberniums of specialists took the field to focus down more powerful foes. The [Breathing] specialists swept forth to meet the swordsman in combat, their flowing attacks meeting his blade in a dance of narrowly-avoided death. The damage-reflection specialists split off from the defensive formation to charge the [Berserker] as their initial role was completed. All around the wall, clusters of Legionnaires swarmed adventurers like vengeful ants, each one supported by centuries of elven and human Legionnaires as they made quick work of the other defenders.

The enemy fought well—at least, those that survived up until this point. But in the end, they proved no match. Tiberius watched on with satisfaction as their plan took shape, ruthlessly cutting down the last of Novara’s defenses. He’d honestly expected them to do a bit better, considering their not insignificant numbers. But perhaps it made sense.

These people were clearly not experienced at fighting as large groups. Even if they organized as parties, the coordination between those parties left much to be desired. So, when faced with superior coordination? It was easy to divide and conquer. Now, they were just fodder.

As the mass of defenders thinned and began to retreat, Tiberius turned to Gaius and Sylendor. “Order the men to advance.”

His two Legatuses nodded and relayed the command. The Legionnaires began to pull together near the destroyed castle gate; the defenders who had been guarding it long since pulled away from their task. They began marching forward, leaving the line the now-deceased [Force Mage] had left in the ground behind them as they marched on.

Tiberius glanced over to see Marcus emerge from the protective formation like a purple chick from an egg. He blinked, looking around with a mixture of awe and slight horror at the battlefield around him.

***

By the time Marcus could see the battle, it was already over.

The Legionnaires protecting him parted just enough to see a few final wisps of howling wind disappear into the sky—the last of the tornadoes he'd glimpsed when some of the Legionnaires split from the formation. The opposing forces looked as though they'd simply disappeared into thin air, though the mysterious patches of red that splattered the ground and walls in places told a much more gruesome story.

The men headed for the castle entrance, reconvening in formation and leading the way. He stepped to the side as more followed along behind them, swarming through the hole to finish their conquest. Elven archers soon replaced the adventurers and guards who had manned the walls just minutes before. Finally, it seemed, Novara would be theirs.

“Well, that certainly worked out.”

Marcus looked over to see Gaius approaching. The man relayed a few orders to one of his aides before waving him off and stepping beside the bard.

“Indeed,” Marcus replied, arching an eyebrow. “Though

I’m surprised that you have time to talk. Don’t you have additional duties to tend to, Legatus?"

Gaius’s eye twitched slightly, a barely perceptible reaction that piqued Marcus’s interest greatly. But rather than acknowledge it, Gaius simply shook his head. “Not as much as you would think. Most of the men already have their orders. Besides, the battle is all but over. All that’s left now is to finish the job and count our losses.

The two men looked at the castle before them. While Marcus had felt a number of Legionnaire deaths, the number was small enough that he’d been able to actually count them. Evidently, the planning and preparation they’d done had paid off in spades, especially considering how poorly this all could have gone.

Yet Gaius seemed dissatisfied. After a moment of quiet, Marcus called him out on it.

The young Legatus scratched his cheek. “Truthfully, I’m almost a bit disappointed. I was hoping that the miners’ work would bear fruit.”

Marcus shook the man’s shoulder. “It was a good plan.”

“It was, sure. But I don’t look forward to telling them that they’ll need to refill the tunnels they just spent so much time making.” He shook his head. “I thought that the plan was a great improvement over my actions in the last battle, and yet… It seems that I’ve fallen short once again.”

“Fallen short?” Marcus queried.

“Of expectations. The emperor’s, to be specific.” Gaius explained.

“I wouldn’t say that. Emperor Tiberius clearly approves of you. He wouldn’t have given you his Legion otherwise.”

Gaius hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder about that.”

Marcus waited for him to elaborate, but none came. Yet he understood the Legionnaire’s point. Tiberius had been extremely independent of his own emperor, a necessary consequence of the man being who knows how many universes away. And the emperor was quite understandably respected by his people. The elves borderline worshipped the man. But at the same time, Marcus had gotten the impression that a Legatus was practically a god to their men while they were on campaign.

Perhaps the feelings of inadequacy would fade as Gaius settled more into his role. He just needed to earn the men’s respect.

He clapped Gaius on the shoulder. “Well, I suppose you’ll find yourself with more opportunities sooner than you’d think. Now that Rome has a proper kingdom to rule, I imagine you’re going to be a lot busier.”

“I suppose you’re right about that,” the young Legatus chuckled. “Especially given that we have more to do.”

“Oh?” 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

“Given the amount of trouble the orcs have given Novara, the emperor wants to exterminate the trouble at the root, before it can bother us again. Especially given that there are apparently quite a number of useful resources located in orcish lands…”

Marcus groaned internally. Another war with the bloody orcs for resources. Some things never changed.