Chronicles of an Isekai'd Legion: For the Glory of Rome

B4 Chapter 28: From War Games to Worms



B4 Chapter 28: From War Games to Worms

What began as a series of small-scale training exercises soon ballooned into a rather fervent competition between the two Legions. One that excluded some of the more destructive weaponry from either side, of course. They had no desire to burn down the forest or otherwise damage it unnecessarily.

Initially, the battles tended to go Sylendor's way. Quintus and his veterans had the benefit of rare, high-level skills and experience on their side. However, the elves held a clear advantage when it came to the terrain. Evidently, their version of the [Marching] skill, [Leafstride], focused entirely on moving quickly and seamlessly through the forest. It allowed the elves to utilize it both as a combat and a simple traversal skill, forming the backbone of their more hit-and-run warfare tactics.

Of course, such a skill was incredibly limited in any other terrain. But here? It quickly became clear why the elves had managed to hold on to their territory for so long. And these were elven Legionnaires with relatively low levels. Quintus could only shudder to imagine how much of a nightmare some of them would become as they grew.

It was a valuable experience for himself as well, facing an enemy with so many advantages. It forced Quintus to adapt, paying closer mind to his messengers' positions and pushing the limits of [Unity] to communicate orders without even saying them. He even found himself leveraging [Tactician's Awareness] to try and track enemy movements through the trees as they darted unseen from trunk to trunk. It stretched his command skills in ways he hadn't considered before.

After a few matches, Quintus suggested a change in venue to the elves' local arena. It wasn't quite as grand a complex as the one unearthed near Habersville, and it accordingly lacked many of the more magical features of the other ancient structure. But that was perfectly fine. At least the battlefield wouldn't be a forest.

After a few more bouts there---as well as a naval battle, since the large ring of gnarled wood could also be flooded for such things---Quintus managed to even up the score. He made a few mistakes, such as entrusting a rather green centurion to hold part of the formation that proved too much for him. But that was only to be expected. It was better that his men find themselves tested here than in front of a strange and foreign enemy.

By the end, both groups had benefited greatly from the exercise. Quintus had gotten to see the preliminary testing of some new skills suggested by Gwendolyn, and the elves had gotten more firsthand experience with facing a Legion than they'd ever had before. The First Legion had been stretched far too thin to engage in similar training exercises, after all. Even better, the two groups seemed far more at ease with each other than before---Sylendor included.

Despite the elven Legatus's general sense of formality and decorum, he shared the same determination to win as Quintus himself---which was only to be expected. Few military leaders survived without such a drive. But that uptight nature did loosen somewhat by the end of their bouts. Especially when they split a wagered bottle of elven wine afterwards.

The Third Legion rested the night in their camp. Quintus had long since given up hope of setting out that day, resolving to let the men get some rest before heading east. He already had a full regimen of training exercises picked out for the men, particularly some of the centurions whose shortcomings had been exposed during the bout. But those would have to wait until after their mission was done.

Two days later, the Third Legion found themselves marching beneath the mottled branches once more. Ahead of them ranged a hundred elven Legionnaires on loan from Sylendor as guides. Between the dense woods, their low levels in [Warpath], and the lack of a road, the progress was far slower than Quintus would've otherwise liked. But it couldn't be helped. At the very least, it gave the men a bit more time before they faced their enemy.

The closer they grew to the border, the more signs of battle became evident. Large swaths of trampled grass and shrubs. Gouges in the earth. Splintered and shattered trunks of trees, some leaning drunkenly against their neighbors and unable to fall through the dense foliage.

Quintus saw the elven guides grimace each time they passed a fallen tree. But he was more interested in the damage itself. It seemed to come from a whole variety of sources---claws, teeth, blunt force. There were even a few monstrously sized stingers lodged deep in tree trunks. Quintus was no ranger, but even he could tell these attacks hadn't all been from a single kind or size of creature. It lined up with Sylendor's reports, though that was almost more troubling.

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As they pressed on, Quintus saw half of the elves disappear into the forest ahead. They returned not long after, their expressions grim. After a brief conversation amongst themselves, the centurion in charge of their number flitted back to Quintus's position.

"Legatus Quintus, sir. There has been another incursion. The edge of the forest has been pushed back, with the trees at its edge felled."

Quintus frowned as the elf went into excruciating detail about how exactly the local vegetation had been damaged. He held up his hand. "What of the sentries? Did you have men defending the area?"

The elf nodded. "We left a number of watchers near the border to defend. However, they were unable to repel the assault. They attempted to fall back and lure the beasts inside to better leverage their advantages, but..."

"...But the enemy decided to just cut through the forest instead," Quintus finished.

The elven centurion nodded. "Precisely, sir. They were able to pick off a fair number of the enemy and repel them this time. But it does not bode well that they have learned about our limitations, it seems."

Quintus crossed his arms. That was troublesome. Sylendor had agreed to prepare more permanent defenses along the border, but it seemed like that project would need to be hastened even more quickly than expected.

Part of him was tempted to take action on the elves' behalf, but no. The best thing he could do would be to attack the problem at its source. Besides, the imminent threat would only make certain that Sylendor actually did follow through on creating such defenses sooner rather than later.

It took another hour or so for them to arrive at the border. It was just as the elves had described. A wide swath of forest nearly two hundred paces deep had been reduced to little more than stumps. Some were clean cuts as though they'd been sliced through with a single stroke of a blade. Others bore ragged edges and clear evidence of some massive form barreling through their midst. Scattered between them, mighty trunks littered the ground like carelessly tossed sticks.

He looked beyond the carnage. The last of the grasses slowly withered as they were choked out by dry heat and fine sands. Golden dunes of the stuff rolled in the distance, stretching as far as the eye could see. Strong winds kicked up hazy clouds and shifted the very terrain before their eyes. Yet aside from that motion, Quintus saw no obvious signs of life.

He sighed inwardly. Sand. He recalled fewer environments he'd enjoyed less than the far easts of his own world. It looked as though he'd be reliving those days now.

"Form up!" He commanded as they emerged into the clearing. "From here on, we march in defensive formation. Be prepared to face an enemy at any moment. Keep your attention on your surroundings in every direction. Centurions, do not allow any man to go unaccounted for."

There were shouts of assent as the Legionnaires shifted into position. Quintus nodded to the elven century behind them. "Thank you. Report back to Sylendor. If he has not already been made aware of this situation, then I expect he will move this way soon."

The group saluted before disappearing back into the forest. They would not be joining Quintus on this quest. Their place was here, keeping watch and defending in case they needed to retreat.

Quintus ordered his men forward, slower and more cautiously than before. He didn't know whether the enemy would be bold enough to try and attack a host of six thousand like this. Then again, they were on their home turf. And as he'd seen with the elves, that made all the difference.

They proceeded for most of the day until the forest receded to a mere speck of green in the distance. Quintus felt gritty as the sand seeped into nearly every crack and crevice that it shouldn't be in. He silently thanked Gareth for the various weather resistance enchantments he'd imbued into his armor. At least those kept him from suffering the heat too greatly. Still, he found himself reaching for his waterskin nearly as much as any other man.

The sun began its descent toward the horizon. Quintus sent groups of scouts out to search for a place to make camp, hoping to secure some source of solid footing nearby. That was when he felt the earth rumble.

"Halt!" He shouted immediately. The men felt the alarm in his voice, instantly bracing for an attack. Heads that had begun to waver in their alertness suddenly snapped back to attention as they tried to locate the source.

Quintus joined them in scanning the area. But rather than a horde of charging beasts, [Tactician's Awareness] picked up on something in an unexpected direction. Below.

"Fourth cohort! Scatter!"

The men wasted no time. They immediately broke formation, rushing into the ranks of their neighbors even as they turned to face the incoming threat.

Then, the ground exploded.

A massive pillar of brown, speckled skin shot into the air like a tree erupting from the ground. It continued to grow and grow, its shade casting a shadow great enough to span their entire formation. Even after retreating, the plume of sand it kicked up sprayed over the Legionnaires and sent them coughing. Then it wriggled, turning a massive mouth filled with needlelike teeth toward the army of men below.

"[Stalker Worm], sir! Level twenty!" His aide shouted.

Quintus found his sword instinctively in his hand. It seemed as though they didn't have to search too hard for their foe. Good. That would save them time.

He pointed his blade toward the monster. "Attack!"

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