For the Glory of Rome: Chronicles of an Isekai'd Legion-Chapter 55B3 : Time to Experiment

B3 Chapter 55: Time to Experiment

Grund found himself immediately dissatisfied with his horde’s offensive tactics, though not particularly surprised.

The rank and file were one thing. He honestly couldn’t expect much more of the poor brutes, their minds afflicted by [Battle Lust]. But even his lieutenants and fellow faithful had done little better. While they had mostly managed to keep their berserker tendencies at bay, the same could not be said for those beneath them. When faced with an unexpected situation such as the collapsing of the pass, they ignored calls to group up for a coordinated defense, using their oversized weapons to protect against the onslaught of projectiles from above. No, the unintelligent masses faced the situation the same way they always had. By charging forward, completely exposed, hoping to overwhelm their enemy through sheer force. The more complex tactics Grund had been drilling into his leadership might as well have been mere suggestions dreamed up a year prior.

Grund shook his head with disappointment. It was not the fault of his enlightened. How could they be expected to stand against such a deeply-ingrained skill? Still, they had managed to keep their own heads, and some of the larger and more intimidating ones were seeing a bit of success with corralling small groups of their brethren. Even as the rest were exposed and were ripped apart.

He looked down upon the carnage with a frown. Behind him, more raging orcs flooded down the open ravines and gullies in pursuit of that small group that had emerged from behind the rocks. Never mind the fact that even catching such prey would leave all but the frontrunners dissatisfied and with little more than a single scrap of flesh to fight over. They simply followed the leader like particularly bloodthirsty cattle. It was yet another poignant reminder of the dichotomy of quality and quantity.

No matter. Grund left them to their pursuit. He was far more interested in the scene below for the moment.

The fox-shaped amulet lay against his bare chest, its gray stone warming with every death. It was slower progress than when he directly sacrificed one of his brethren in Morgranth’s name. But given the efficiency with which these humans were mowing them down, even these fractional gains quickly pooled until the amulet burned his skin. It demanded action, for its might to be unleashed. And Grund listened.

He removed the stone from his neck and lifted it high into the air. It sizzled against his skin, glowing with heat and power. Then, with a brief mental command, it thrummed to life.

The curled fox seemed to open its glowing yellow eyes as a shockwave erupted. Instantly, he felt his mind quiet and the urge to dive into the bloody fray dissolve as his [Battle Lust] fell entirely silent. Far below, he watched in wonder as more orcs slowed and began to shake their heads in confusion, as though awakening from a particularly violent dream.

Grund watched, his lips pulling back in a manic grin as the shockwave traveled further and further, stretching across the entire battlefield. Behind him, he heard the rapid stomping of so many footfalls slow and eventually cease as even those orcs began to regain their rationality.

The cloud of mind-numbing fury that had gripped them all in its clutches was no more.

Of course, that wasn’t the only casualty. Grund could feel the sudden clumsiness of his movements as he scrambled down the mountain of rubble, moving more slowly than he’d usually be capable of with [Mountaineering]. A quick review of his other skills confirmed his suspicion—most of them had been entirely disabled. He could no longer feel the little nodules of something that allowed him to activate them.

How long the effect would last, he had no idea. But while it did… why not take advantage of the opportunity?

Grund neared the bottom of the valley, dodging a quarrel of arrows that arced his way. One caught him on the shoulder, but failed to penetrate deeper than his first knuckle. The pain caused him to wince. Yet his people were known for their toughness, even without the collection of skills that bolstered it further.

As he took in the new state of the battlefield. It was in complete disarray. Many of the orcs had returned to attacking the enemy as before, albeit without the force multiplier afforded by [Battle Lust] and many of the other skills that favored such mindless battering and charging. Grund also spotted his enlightened among the masses, rallying groups about themselves and finding themselves able to direct their forces far more effectively than before. Still other orcs stood about dumbly, their feeble minds unable to process the development. But they were still faring better than the enemy, in some ways.

The shockwave had instantly throttled the projectile assault until it was a mere shadow of its former self. The long-eared elves were reduced to little more than classless children with bows. Even those infernal arrow-slinging contraptions practically screeched to a halt.

The enemy continued their assault regardless. And without the singleminded rage spurring his brethren on, Grund saw some fall unconscious under the weight of their prior injuries. But far more were left standing.

“Form up! Stand your ground!”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Grund looked toward the one who had spoken. It was an old-looking human, grizzled and with almost as many scars as the average orc. Despite the command, Grund expected their formation to buckle as shields took blows directly, uncushioned by defensive skills they were likely used to. But he found himself honestly surprised. Orders rang out from one throat, then echoed across many more as the odd rectangular shields snapped more tightly together with precision that made Grund doubt his former observations. Were the humans unaffected after all? Did they still have access to at least some of their skills?

With another command, the wall resumed its forward march, moving with an eerie synchronicity. The tramp of their feet joined the sounds of battle as they began to move. Yet the wall was not as impenetrable as before. Their shields rattled under heavy blows, and the orcs leapt upon the suggestion of weakness. At least a few men had their arms give out under the pressure. In spots where Grund's enlightened led the charge, they managed to coordinate attacks and drag a few out of line, only for the men to be yanked back by their comrades or quickly replaced before the gap could be taken advantage of.

Of course, Grund himself had no intention of rushing forward in pursuit of misguided glory. He had other matters to tend to.

He reached the back of the isolated orcish forces, where the smallest she weakest of the bunch had been forced. Here was a far different story than that of the front lines. Rather than charging forth, the lifting of the [Battle Lust] had left them wide-eyed and fearful.

“W-we run, Torbak. We far from men. No get fight any—eep!”

The diminutive orc let out a rather unseemly squeak as Grund's hand lashed out to seize him by the neck. With a more significant amount of effort than he was used to, Grund slammed the coward to the ground and casually placed his foot atop his skull.

“Flee? Who said that you could flee?” Grund growled, grinding his heel down.

The prone orc’s eyes went wide as he writhed. “Ah! S-sorry warchief! I… I fight!”

“Good.” Grund lifted his head to regard the rest of the cowardly orcs at the back of the formation. “Because any cowards that attempt to desert, to flee from the battle… I’ll make sure that they find their way onto spits to cook over the fires. Now, form a group!”

“Yes, warchief!”

Shouts of assent rose up from all around with varying degrees of enthusiasm—inversely related to the size of the responding orc, of course. That was fine. If any did decide to take their chances, he would demolish them, with or without skills.

Fortunately, his threats did the job. Fear of certain death outweighed the fear of an uncertain one as the smaller orcs began clumping together in a rough suggestion of a formation. Grund eyed them with a mix of pity and disgust. Even without the [Battle Lust] clouding their minds, the majority of his brethren remained as dumb as base animals. But at least they could listen now.

Quickly, he barked out orders, calling some of his enlightened lieutenants to his side and shifting the battlefield. Even with the amulet shifting the tide of battle, Grund was uncertain of victory here. The numbers within this valley were fewer than he would have liked. Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to win. At the very least, it would give him a chance to experiment with commanding his forces.

The majority of the orcs were directed to stall the lines of shield-bearing humans. Additional flanking forces began to climb the steep sides of the valleys, heading for the weaponry positioned further back. Once they’d reduced those to kindling, they were to turn around and flank the human lines, assaulting them from all sides.

Would it work? Who knew? Even if it did, many would perish in the assault on all sides. But seeing how well the orcs followed multi-step orders was a valuable piece of information indeed.

Grund stepped forward, hefting his ax, bellowing for the horde to charge.

***

Tiberius stood with his hands clasped behind him, watching calmly as mages bustled about the room. Complex lines of gold dust and white crystal swirled across the floor, spiraling together to form a single intricate circle. A group of Legionnaire guards clustered around their emperor as the men eyed the formations with open suspicion.

For his part, Tiberius remained rather skeptical about the whole thing as well. Magic was still a field that he remained rather uncertain of. And despite repeated assurances, numerous demonstrations, and a few nonconsensual teleportations from Claude in the past, the idea of stepping into a teleportation circle willingly still gave him pause. But between Tiberius’s manifold responsibilities, he simply couldn’t afford the time wasted traveling any other way. Not right now, at least.

“All finished!” The Grand Mage called, pulling a tome from thin air. “Are you ready?”

At Tiberius’s nod, the old mage flipped the thick volume open and began to chant. The words sounded foreign to Tiberius’s ear, yet they nevertheless sent a shiver down his spine unbidden. The formations below seemed to melt and solidify into unbroken lines of glowing light as he spoke.

The circle glowed brightly as Claude paused. He quickly motioned for Tiberius and his group to step inside of the formation. He did so, not showing the slightest shred of hesitation. White light filled his vision and blinded him for a moment. When it cleared, the open clearing and green forests of Habersville rose around him.

“Whew!” Claude stretched, then wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. “Gotta admit, that took a bit out of me. I hope you don’t plan on going back in the next few hours.”

“No,” the emperor confirmed. “We do not plan to return until tomorrow or the day after.”

“Good, good. Well, then. While we’re here, I suppose I might as well make use of the time, too. Call me if you need me!”

Claude flew off into the distance without another word. Tiberius shook his head. Where the mage thought he was headed was anyone’s guess. But perhaps Gaius had told him at least a few things about Habersville during their talks.

He motioned to his guards, turning toward the auxiliary training fields. He needed to check on how their recruits were faring before anything else. Then, he wanted to delve into the forest to meet with the elven leader. As confident as he was in their loyalty, it never hurt to be certain. Besides, he was long overdue for such a visit. After that, if there was still time, perhaps he would check on how the arena was being utilized.