B4 Chapter 4: Rock and Roll |
Months passed, and little by little, the budding empire began to truly put down roots and grow. New constructions sprang up like so many saplings, shading the populace beneath their splendor and enriching them with their fruits. Without an active war, such things could be more readily prioritized, much to the delight of the populace.
That wasn’t to say that all remained peaceful, however.
“Brace!”
The shield wall tightened at the man’s command, shifting their stances to face down the towering monster before them. It had the shape of a man, yet, rather than flesh and blood, it was composed entirely of slate-gray stone that looked to have been carved from the very hills themselves. It stood at least three men tall, with eyes that glimmered like cut rubies.
[Rock Golem] (Lvl 25)
The golem roared, hurling a shower of sharpened stone toward the group. Most skittered off the rounded surfaces of their shields and embedded themselves in the ground. But a few punctured the wood and hide surfaces of their shields, if only just.
Quintus watched the battle from a short distance away, his fingers drumming against the pommel of his sword as he frowned. The trainees had all taken [Shield Wall] as a skill, of course. But between their small numbers and the inferiority of the skill compared to [Coordinated Bulwark], their defensive abilities remained fairly limited, especially against an area boss of this level. Fortunately, these were the best of the best, the potential centurions that had made themselves stand out from the rest through skill and strength.
The golem charged toward one section of the formation like a living avalanche. Each one of its steps shook the very earth as it pulled more and more rock out of the ground to add to its bulk. Quintus clenched his jaw shut to avoid giving a reflexive order. Luckily, he’d trained them well enough that he didn’t have to.
“Split!”
The blows rained against the [Rock Golem], sending up puffs of pulverized stone and dust. A few men managed to pierce the rocks with the picks of their weapons and pull them out of place, exposing a veins of ruby stone that shot through the boss’s core. It roared again, shifting more stone to cover the wounds just as fast as they’d been exposed, but not fast enough. The two former [Miners] of the group managed to lunge forward and strike the exposed area, chipping it.
A deep rumble of rage filled Quintus’s ears as the golem turned to clobber the trainees, but they were already regrouping. The wall snapped back together, taking the wild strike on their shields. It sent the entire formation skittering back, even with their heels ground into the dirt. But they didn’t break.
Quintus nodded in approval. That had been handled fairly well. He would have rather been there with the men, trainees as they were, directing them and showing how to best address such a foe. But that was not his role today. Today, he was to supervise and evaluate their progress. To see whether they were prepared to become true Legionnaires.
A man who had been a farmer less than two years ago lunged forward to stab at an exposed wound in its leg. The [Rock Golem] stumbled and let out a sound like cliff faces grinding against one another. It whirled again to strike its attacker, but the man had already snapped back into the shield wall. The circle of shields became seamless with those on either side of him as another lunged forward.
The trainees surrounded the golem, yet kept their distance. Their formation continued to send probing strikes at the enemy, taking advantage of openings and playing it safe as they worked to whittle it down. Bit by bit, chunks of sparkling ruby began to litter the ground and grow dull. But the progress was slow. At this rate, it would take hours to finish it off.
Then again, perhaps that was just his impatience talking. This was exactly the kind of battle their strategies were meant to win, after all.
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“Switch!”
The trainees on the front lines quickly ducked back and were replaced with fresh men in one fluid motion. The golem, still stumbling from a particularly large crack along its other leg, was in no position to take advantage of the split second opening. Soon, it found itself being harried with renewed intensity by well-rested trainees as the others retreated to take a brief rest.
Once again, Quintus found himself satisfied by the decision, which was no surprise. It was the safest and most certain course. One that he’d covered in detail with the men before the engagement. The strategy was unorthodox, but it was one of the many adaptive techniques they had implemented to deal with monsters strong enough to potentially break through a shield wall. He'd also managed to work out quite a number of subtle improvements that leveraged his men’s abilities more fully.
It was something he found himself doing far more often as of late—and more effectively. Ever since that strange experience with the spell plague, he felt as though his mind moved faster. It was different than [Tactician’s Awareness] and the impressions it gave of the battlefield. Rather, it felt as though his capacity for creativity had been greatly expanded. As though he had a greater repertoire of options to work with for any given situation. It was that creativity that had inspired him to commission these strange hammer-and-pick spears.
He felt the telltale tingle of [Tactician’s Awareness] alerting him to danger. Quintus gripped the pommel of his sword as he focused on the enemy. It reared up to its full height, its massive clublike arms reaching skyward before descending like hammers.
The trainees braced, but the blow wasn’t aimed at them. Instead, the giant’s fists slammed into the ground with enough force to send a few men stumbling in their places. But it didn’t end there. The earth itself rippled outward as though it were water that had been struck rather than solid ground.
Shouts of surprise rose from the encirclement as the ripples raced toward them. Orders flew from the centurions in training, many of them conflicting as the men struggled to prepare for the unexpected attack, but to no avail. The rolling earth wreaked havoc on the men's formation, opening holes in the shield wall where brute force alone had failed.
He restrained the urge to immediately leap to the men’s aid. Even as the former farmer found himself tumbling forward, rolling down the slope toward the crushing feet of the [Rock Giant]. The boss raised one mighty leg and—
A sudden gust of wind ruffled Quintus’s hair. Faster than he could blink, a man appeared between the fallen trainee and the giant’s descending foot, his strange crimson and blue robes flapping from the sheer speed of his movement. The man closed his eyes and raised his palm to intercept the golem’s incoming blow. The massive rock stopped it as though it had stuck solid steel.
Quintus shook his head at the dramatic display. Septimus—or was it Karma, now—insisted that he wasn’t showing off but rather acting as his skills demanded for activation. But he honestly wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. Then again, he would have never believed that simple [Breathing] could allow a man to accomplish such feats, and yet here they were. Did he really have to shave his head, though?
The trainees gaped at the robed Legionnaire. The farmer had the presence of mind to take advantage and land a few quick blows before darting back. Quintus saw others do the same. But the monster quickly regained its balance, and the state of his forces convinced Quintus to break his silence.
“Regroup!”
[Coordinated Offense] washed over the men and snapped them back to reality. They ceased their gawking and reformed their lines rapidly as the robed cultivator leaped away once more. He'd only intervened to save the man from death. This fight was still the trainees’ to win. And as much as he tried to hide it, Karma clearly had suffered from the attack. His breathing came more heavily than before as he rejoined his contubernium of similarly dressed specialists.
The battle resumed as before. The trainees continued to whittle down their foe, watching closely for another one of the earth-rippling attacks. When it did come, they managed to retreat back and stabilize each other enough to reform more quickly this time. He kept waiting for the boss to bring out another technique or surprise them again, but it did not. Luckily for them.
Despite the momentary disorder, he found himself pleased with their performance so far. These men were not all acting in the leadership roles they would be receiving if this continued to go well. Still, their discipline and handling of their duties left him with few complaints. They would set a good example for the rest of the third Legion. A better example than some of the centurions he’d seen in his time, even. It was strange to not have so much politicking seep into the decisions regarding leadership, but not unwelcome. Quintus had more freedom in those choices than ever before. Which was both a blessing and a curse. After all, it meant that he had far more decisions to make.
Quintus began to settle in for another long wait, compiling feedback to give the men when he heard a shout of alarm. But not from the battle before him. This one came from behind.
Whipping around, his head jerked up toward the sky. A large shape hung in the sky, flying toward them with astonishing speed. He looked toward a scout. “What is it?”
“A… A dragon, sir!”
At first, he suspected that it might be the Grand Mage’s pet dragon. But no. As the shape grew, it became clear that it wasn’t at all the pink and oddly friendly creature they’d grown accustomed to seeing on patrols. This one glistened pure white, its scales sparkling like freshly fallen snow as it drew near.