B3 Chapter 57: Royal Rumble
Stepping into the arena stadium, Tiberius felt as though he'd been transported back to Ro. As much as the new constructions were ant to emulate his holand, they remained clearly distinct. And that was without considering the deviations that this world's System encouraged.
Even now, long after its builders had died, their civilization scrubbed from all but the most ancient of records, this relic still stood to pay homage to their existence. Of course, the passage of ti had taken its toll. Crumbled arches and columns still remained, their restoration a lesser priority than the thousands of other matters that required the Legion’s attention. But the most major issues had been redied, such as the flooding and the collapse of the most major passageways. It was in an intact enough state for both active use and study, which was all that mattered.
The sound of a roaring crowd mixed with enthusiastic combat as they neared the arena. Upon reaching the entrance, Tiberius, Secundus, and their group were t by a comparatively small Legionnaire. The man bustled toward them hurriedly, looking as disheveled and exhausted as if he were part of an active warfront. Collections of parchnts and writing implents hung from bags at his sides and threatened to spill out onto the floor.
“Emperor Tiberius!” The Legionnaire bowed. “It’s an honor! Pardon my appearance. I was not inford of your intent to visit…”
Tiberius dismissed the man’s concerns with a wave. “You are the one responsible for the arena, I assu?”
“Yes, emperor! Drusus, at your service!”
Tiberius looked around. Though the sounds of battle echoed from within the arena itself, the halls stood mostly empty. The small handful of people milling about either bowed reverently or made themselves scarce. “I see. Your assistants?”
Drusus barked a laugh before clamping his mouth shut. “Ah, with all due respect, emperor… I’ve been the sole custodian of this place for so ti now. The others have been drawn away to more… pressing duties.”
Ah. That certainly explained it. While the arena was interesting and full of strange magics, it truly had fallen lower on Tiberius’s list of priorities amidst everything else. Likely, any n that Drusus had commandeered as researchers were either working to whip the auxiliaries into shape, preparing more equipnt for their forces, or off fighting themselves.
He nodded. “Very well. Show what you have learned.”
A glimr of excitent flashed in the researcher’s eye. “With pleasure, emperor!”
Drusus began to lead the group through the concourses, explaining as they went. The arena had proven to be a valuable training aid, giving n the ability to engage in simulated combat that more closely mirrored a real battlefield. Yet that wasn’t the only benefit. There was also the matter of the rewards built into the arena itself, allowing combatants to gain titles for exceptional performances.
“...I’ve been staging matches regularly and opening them to the populace,” Drusus explained. “At this point, every one of our troops in Habersville has earned the [Crowd Favorite] title. Many have also earned ones related to arena performance, whether from a single standout match, repeated appearances, or earning a place on the leaderboards. That last one is far less common, but we have seen a few impressive shakeups.”
Tiberius listened with interest, though he was not entirely surprised. Much of this he’d heard in reports, albeit in far less detail.
“Hmmm.” He mused. “Perhaps we should send the rest of our n here to bolster their titles, as well.”
“Yes! I would very much encourage that, Emperor.” The man bobbed his head. “It can never hurt to have more titles.”
“Have you encountered issues garnering a crowd?”
Drusus grinned. “Not in the slightest. As you may expect, the people absolutely love the entertainnt. I set the price to spectate low and also implented so free days, just to ensure we pull good numbers. And we’ve made watching bouts free for Legion. But even with that, the arena is generating quite an impressive sum! It’s served as a great recruitnt tool as well.”
“I see. Well done.” Tiberius praised the man. Taking in his state again, he continued. “You appear to be managing things well on your own. However, I assu you would not be opposed to additional help.”
The arena manager's smile flickered. “I would not, emperor. Although even before, much of the actual research work fell to . Ah, not that I mind! But our brethren, you know… Most would prefer to be in the arena rather than be peering at its stones.”
The last part of his answer was delivered more sheepishly as the man averted his gaze. Tiberius nodded. “I may be able to spare hands for you. More research-minded ones.”
“Thank you, emperor!”
They continued on as Tiberius made his plans. He had little doubt that Claude and his mage apprentices would take an interest in the monunt. The better question was, would he be able to keep them away once they were made aware of its existence?
He shook his head. Even if this did seize the Grand Mage’s interest, it would be all right. Tiberius could always distract the man with the other carrot he’d dangled above his head—that of joining the Legion. A matter which they’d likely see to sooner rather than later.
“The current bout is a fairly low-level one, just a few auxiliaries getting in extra training,” Drusus continued as they neared one of the two viewing boxes that stood above the arena. “But afterward, we have a group match of our current champions facing down a group of challengers. It’s a well-anticipated fight, given the storyline! Ah, but if the emperor wishes to see a different match—”
“Unnecessary.” Tiberius shut him down. There was no reason to throw things entirely into disarray. Besides, he was interested in the skill of these so-called “champions”.
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Stepping toward the viewing box, the crowd suddenly roared in approval. Far below, one of the auxiliaries struck a decisive blow with his sword against a similarly ard mannequin. Another sprinted towards his back, moving to take advantage of the man’s distraction, only to be flung sideways as an arrow embedded itself in his skull. The pair of foes joined the others crumpled on the ground as the humans panted, raising their fists in victory.
“A thrilling victory for Rodney’s Roughnecks!” An announcer shouted from so unseen position. “And a hard-fought one as well! Put your hands together for our winners!” The crowd cheered appropriately before the voice continued. “This next bout is even more hotly anticipated than the last—the reigning champions of the group format, Vibius’s Victors, will defend their title against the up-and-cors, Gareth’s Grunts! Who will win in this battle of experience versus innovation?!”
Tiberius raised a slight eyebrow at Drusus at the nas. The man flushed. “Ah… The n co up with nas for the arena. It helps keep continuity and storylines, you see. Only… They’re not the best at nas. Though neither am I, so…”
“But before we launch into it, we have a special announcent!” The booming voice saved the abashed Legionnaire from further embarrassnt. “This bout will be overseen by an honored guest, gracing the arena with his presence. The emperor of the Roman Empire himself—Tiberius Rufius Maro!
Tiberius stepped forward, gazing down at the gathered audience as they redoubled their cheers. He flared his [Regal Bearing] to further play into the announcent. It had been a long ti since those at Habersville had seen their ruler. Best to make a proper impression while he could.
After an appropriate amount of ti, Tiberius sat in the box’s largest center seat. The announcer continued to whip the audience into a frenzy as Drusus stepped up and gestured to a small, ornately wrought pedestal. “It would be an honor to have you select the scenario for this bout, emperor. Simply place your hand atop the pedestal for options.”
He did so, and a collection of images imdiately sprang up before him. Flipping through them as he would a System nu, Tiberius found that he was able to control a surprising number of variables. The win conditions, competitor requirents, terrain features, enemy difficulties… The arena itself was as malleable as clay before him. There were even options to render the bout nonlethal and rewards that he could offer. They seed to scale with the difficulty of the fight, topping out when the most difficult combination of enemies was selected and the chance of death was real.
“Are these rewards sothing that you provide?” Tiberius queried.
The arena manager shook his head. “No, emperor. They ca with the arena itself. Frankly, I’m not certain where they’re stored, or else I’d try to raid the treasury. But for now, our best thod of extracting the wealth is to fight in bouts. We’ve also found that the greatest rewards co from letting the arena itself decide more variables.”
Tiberius humd thoughtfully. After a mont, he selected a combination of attributes that best approximated the orcish warfront. The bout would be a wave defense, testing the groups to see how long they could last against increasingly difficult waves of foes. It would, of course, be nonlethal. He didn’t see a need to risk soldiers needlessly, especially when they were in such short supply. Even if that did reduce the rewards to a tenth of what they would be otherwise.
Once he was finished, the two contubernia of n stepped into the center of the arena. One group was ard as standard Legionnaires, albeit with more ornantal flourishes to their armor and weapons that coordinated across their number. The other…
“Gareth’s Grunts are so of the master blacksmith’s students,” Secundus spoke for the first ti in a while. “Their fighting style is… experintal.”
That seed to be an understatent. Each man was loaded down with enough weapons to outfit a century and other contraptions of twisted tal that Tiberius couldn’t easily discern the purpose of. Both groups waved to the audience as they entered, seemingly enjoying the attention.
The two groups turned to face their emperor and gave respectful salutes. At his nod, two gates raised at the ends of the oval arena. Groups of faceless gladiators stepped through and began their slow march toward the Legionnaires. These mannequins were poorly armored to start, each wielding only a short spear and a small buckler. Yet Tiberius suspected that wouldn’t last for long.
“Let the battle begin!”
At the announcer’s words, the enemies rushed toward the two groups as they took up defensive positions. The first group assembled into a more standard phalanx, while the second began to quickly set up an assortnt of traps and miniature artillery. Both groups took down the first wave with relative ease, prompting the second to erge.
Tiberius watched the bout with satisfaction. The n certainly weren’t treating this as so ga. Yet at the sa ti, they did seem to be enjoying themselves quite a bit.
A fleeting temptation to try out the arena himself seized Tiberius before being dismissed just as quickly. It was a stupid idea. He had enough concerns about his safety without hurling himself into danger’s path willingly—even if the bouts could be made “safe”. He would be satisfied simply watching his n and learning from them. It was quite the spectacle.
The battle was a long and brutal affair as both groups mowed down stronger and more nurous opponents. But in the end, Gareth’s Grunts managed to outlast their competition. Their artillery and control of the battlefield as a whole allowed them to weather the assault longer and more efficiently, though it was a narrow thing. The majority of their contraptions were broken and scattered as the last of Vibius’s Victors fell.
“And we have a winner! The new champions of the group format—Gareth’s Grunts! It’s been a long ti coming, folks!”
Tiberius couldn’t help but smile at the triumphant n below. This truly was a good form of entertainnt. Perhaps he’d need to find a way to bring it to the masses at large. Sothing to think about.
****
The diversion at the arena proved entertaining, but Tiberius did not stay long. He only watched a few more bouts to evaluate the standouts that Secundus had ntioned—auxiliaries that did indeed prove impressive—before it was ti to move on.
His visit to the elves of the Great Ruthin Forest was long overdue. Despite that, Tiberius would not be able to stay long. It would be a brief trip simply to et the king of the elves and lay eyes on the territory as well. One more thing on his to-do list that had gone unaddressed for too long.
The trip should be a simple one. The fact that the elven legion answered to him made it clear that the nation wasn’t hostile and made their desire to rejoin Ro appear sincere. He’d be commandeering the help of so of these very elves as guides through the forest, as their capital was apparently difficult to locate otherwise.
Still, Ro’s biggest threats had never co from without. They’d been from within. He just hoped that their preservation of Roman culture didn’t include the assassination and duplicity associated with their history.
Bringing so of the elven legionnaires along also served a second purpose. It would allow him to showcase the abilities of the forces he’d been entrusted with. Sure, they might have been lower-level now, but their improved tactics and skills had rendered them quite respectable and powerful already. Iladrien, who had been almost constantly communicating between his king and his emperor, expressed confidence that even more recruits would follow in the wake of such a demonstration.
Tiberius gathered his n and set out into the forest. It was ti to see the hidden city of the elves.
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