Chapter 22: Get Good
"[Piercing Shot]!"
An arrow streaked through the forest clearing, striking the shadow panther's murky form in the hind leg. It growled threateningly at the willowy archer who'd shot it before quickly darting back out of range of the sword-wielding fighter that charged towards it. To one side, the group's healing witch gathered some kind of strange glow between her hands in preparation for her own attack.
Quintus wasn't exactly resentful of having to play babysitter for three young "adventurers." No, he would never feel resentful about that sort of thing. It was part of the Legion's job to keep those under its protection safe, and so he would do so without complaint. It was just galling that the bard had somehow managed to finagle a situation like this under everyone's noses.
How he had known about the interrogation, Quintus had no idea. He had been kept in the dark about most matters related to the adventurers for good reason. Of course, that exclusion hadn't been an explicit matter, so perhaps Tiberius had decided to change tactics after they'd gotten enough information out of the trio. Still, no one had told Quintus. If they had, he would have at least pushed back. He didn't want the bard anywhere near these adventurers until they had gotten a chance to independently confirm the information they provided.
Despite all that, however, Quintus had to admit it wasn't the worst arrangement. Some begrudging part of him recognized the reason in the bard's logic. Learning how people born and raised in a world with this "System" fought would be incredibly useful. Having some inkling of their capabilities before facing them in combat may well prove invaluable.
At least he didn't have to deal with the Bard directly. That was the job of an officer—like the one he was currently babysitting alongside the three adventurers.
Quintus glanced over at Gaius as the walked. The young officer ducked beneath some low tree branches, neglecting to consider the height of his plume as he did. The result was a rather comical look of panic as he had to reflexively clutch at his helmet to keep it on his head.
The boy—the man, he corrected himself, as it was a bad idea to call a superior a boy—the young man certainly showed promise. Despite the slightly uncomfortable motions Gaius was making in his armor, he was still leagues better than it had been when they'd first left Rome all those months ago. That, at least, was heartening. No man would survive long in the Legion without being able to adapt. And every once in a while, he would catch glimmers of the competence that Tiberius seemed to recognize in him. However, it would require seasoning. Lots and lots of seasoning.
Regardless of the officer's inexperience, however, one fact remained. He would have bet on him over any one of these adventurers in a heartbeat.