The Legionnaires ford up at Servius's command, preparing to et Jack and the handful of guards nearest their position. Though the Legion was outnumbered, they weren't lacking advantages—organization, for one, not to ntion having swords against the guards' truncheons. And if Marcus was right about the guards lacking the resolve to kill… well, they were about to receive quite the lesson in ruthlessness.
The group of resting priests of Arashim raised their hands toward the Legionnaires. Their hands glowed as they began chanting softly, sending motes of light into the pillars around them. The wood began to twist and shift, almost coming alive as it responded to the priests' wishes. The pillars began to move, shooting toward the Legionnaires like the battering rams they'd used earlier.
Marcus's eyes widened. He stepped forward as he racked his brains for a way to intervene or help. But even as he opened his mouth, he heard Servius speak.
"If today, Mars, You grant us victory, a new temple I vow."
The room seed to darken subtly. A blood red glow emanated from the centurion, faint but undeniable. It pulsed out in a ripple, washing over the entire room with the sound of a distant battlecry. Where it connected with the pillars, they slowed, their previous charge reduced to little more than a crawl as the red seeped into them like a plague.
Marcus's jaw hung open. It was one thing to see the effects of Arashim's favor enacted on the world. He, at least, was a deity recognized by the system. But Mars? One of the Roman gods? They didn't even exist—not here. They were little more than curiosities from a foreign culture worlds apart from their own. They might as well have been fables.
The shield wall split as the pillars passed through their ranks, sidestepping the forr threat with ease. The priests stood flabbergasted as their assault was neutralized in an instant. The rest of the rebels, however, had no such hesitations.
Jack reached the Legionnaires' line and swung his sword at them with a roar, his blade glowing brightly. His strike simply skittered off the rectangular shields. The [Fighter]'s eyes widened in surprise at the result as a blade slid out from the wall to stab at him. Jack managed to throw his shield up and intercept the attack, winding up for another strike in the process.
"What an imbecile."
Marcus saw the [Fighter]'s head snap to the side as he fixed the speaker with a look of profound rage. Roaring again, Jack turned his body to attack the Legionnaire who had insulted him, seemingly oblivious to the [Taunt] lacing his words.
As he moved, another series of blades snaked out towards him. This ti, he was a fraction of a second too slow to block. One of the swords pierced the unarmored wrist of his sword hand, biting deep into flesh.
Jack wrenched back and cried out in pain as his short sword clattered to the ground. Guards rushed forward, striking at the Legionnaires all along their line. Marcus saw one of the priests near the back grab his holy symbol and extend a hand toward the adventurer, causing his wound to glow and begin to stitch itself back together.
The Legionnaires, however, were having none of it.
The shield wall advanced, pushing back their enemies almost contemptuously. The guards' truncheons had little effect on the wall before them—especially no with how uncoordinated the assault was. If anything, they spent more ti dodging pillars than attacks—though the rebels found themselves unable to take advantage of the brief gaps in the line afforded by the priests' magic.
As the rebel guards and Jack stumbled back, the Legionnaires continued to hack and stab ruthlessly, bringing down several in a flurry of synchronized cuts. Arrows finally began to fly through the air as the other adventurer strung his bow, but between the shifting terrain and close-quarters combat, most went wide.
Jack scread as another sword strike took him in the wrist—this one severing clean through. His hand flopped uselessly where it barely hung on at the end of his arm. The priest that had been healing him began to sweat, seemingly unable to redy the injury fast enough. Worse, the number of guards standing between the Legionnaires and the priests beyond was dwindling at an alarming rate.
The battle—if it could even be called that—was over before it had even begun. Marcus watched as several of the guards threw down their weapons and held their hands up in surrender. The Legionnaires simply bashed them over the heads with the flats of their swords or kicked them down to the ground.
As the rebels were dealt with, a few n stepped toward the priests at the center of the room. Servius turned to Marcus. "These are responsible for the do, I presu?"
Marcus nodded, still a little off-balance from the fighting and the display of Mars's divinity. "It seems like it, yes."
The centurion turned to his n and nodded. Without missing a beat, five of them stepped forward and summarily beheaded the kneeling and oblivious priests. The glow around them ceased, its last light swirling into the central orb before it, too, went dim. An earthshattering crack sounded in the distance, followed by the sound of glass breaking.
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The remaining group clustered near the wall cried out in dismay as their brethren were killed. So of them even started praying—and summarily t the sa fate. Not like the Legion could tell innocuous prayer from skill-infused ones, after all.
Marcus stood there on the steps, his jaw slack as he watched the bloody slaughter. The soldiers had cut down what were essentially unprepared, unard civilians. Ones that were actively holding the town hostage, of course, and proven traitors to boot, but still.
His attention turned to the young [Ranger], whose bow lay beside his lifeless body. At so point during all of this, he must have been killed. It was a sha—Eleonora had described him as a terrible coward, but not an altogether bad person. But that cowardice had led him to side with the wrong people, one way or another.
Scream of defiance made Marcus turn his attention away from the scene. Jack, the party leader who was supposed to keep his party out of trouble, had also seen his teammate's body—and he was not handling it well.
"Monsters!" He raged as a Legionnaire roughly bound him. "Bastards! You killed my brother—I'll kill you all!"
His new stump had already soaked through the cloth wrapped over it, dripping blood onto the floor. The Legionnaire adjusted for the fact with his bindings, making sure to tie Jack's ankles and elbows to prevent him from fleeing.
Servius let out a humorless laugh. "I wouldn't mourn your friend's fate, traitor." He nudged the body with his foot. "Soon enough, you'll find out that he was the lucky one."
***
Quintus had his n up and ready to mobilize in monts. As secure as their position seed, they all knew very well that their comrades above weren't likely to be afforded the sa reprieve. It ant that, as much as they would have liked to rest, they could not. Not until the battle was well and truly over.
The first order of business was to test the waters and see how close they could be to the press of monsters before drawing their ire. These exploding cylinders would do no good if they couldn't get close enough to seal the tunnel, after all.
Quintus and his n pushed forward in a V formation. As before, scatterings of grey creatures skittered their way as the sound of their armor echoed down the path, their numbers readily increasing the closer they moved. The Legionnaires easily dispatched them as they ca.
Eventually, they drew close enough to the main body of creatures that a steady stream began heading their way. More and more, the n began to struggle, the speed at which these enemies arrived testing both their coordination and their stamina. As they rounded a final corner and the antechamber's entrance beca fully visible, the situation deteriorated further. Quintus had to quickly pull them back as beasts that were already far up the tunnel turned around and started surging towards them—even pushing against their brethren to do so.
Quintus straightened, looking over his n. "All right. This ti, we press onward and seal the breach. On my mark."
The other Legionnaires nodded resolutely, bracing themselves to charge. Then, Quintus signalled with his hand and they rushed forward.
Once more, the numbers of the ghouls steadily increased until they beca almost too dense to push through. The n slashed their way through the horde, fighting for every inch forward. Then, once the doorway ca just barely into view, Quintus acted.
He and a few of his particularly dextrous n hurled the crystal cylinders forward—two up the tunnel, and two more toward the door itself. As the explosive sailed through the air, the n braced and averted their eyes—as much as they could afford to while fighting.
One after another, the explosions ca. The tunnel shook around them with the force of the blasts, sending rocks raining down on their heads. For a mont, Quinus feared that they had gone too far and the tunnel would collapse on both them and their foes. It would be a tragedy, of course—but a worthwhile trade to take these beasts with them.
The dust cleared, leaving Qintus's ears ringing for the third ti that day. They were greeted by absolute carnage. A swath of the spindly-limbed creatures had been reduced to paste, bone fragnts and black blood splattered across the tunnel walls that now sported deep gouges of their own. The effect had even stunned the surrounding ghouls to inaction for a few precious monts.
"Again!" Quintus shouted, motioning for more explosives to be thrown. Before the monsters could regroup, another round of blasts ripped through the antechamber where they'd first encountered them, sending more rocks and dirt cascading down from above.
If they hadn't drawn the swarm's ire already, they certainly had now. Their mouths opened in screeches that Quintus couldn't hear as they turned and charged toward the Legionnaires. Worse, many of the ones that had already been headed for the surface now change directions to attack the humans.
"Retreat!" He ordered. "To the supply rooms!"
Quintus moved in unison with his n, empowering his blows to cleave through entire swaths of enemies as they were forced backwards. At his sides, his n followed suit, leveraging whatever skills they had to keep the renewed strength of their attackers at bay.
He glanced over at the damage they'd wrought. Only a small sliver of an opening remained into the antechamber, strangling the tide to only one ghoul at a ti—far more manageable than before. Quintus's spirits lifted at the success of their mission.
However, his celebration didn't last long. Even as he watched, a handful of ghouls headed toward the collapsed entrance and began scratching away at the rubble with their claws. The long-fingered appendages were ill-suited for digging. But with their numbers…
Quintus swore under his breath as they backed out of view of the tunnel. They had succeeded, all right—however, their success might be more short-lived than any of them had hoped. Worse, the chance that they'd be able to push to that point once again was slim—especially with how these creatures had ho in on the Legionnaires as targets.
They continued fighting off the horde as they fell back to a more defensible position. Their efforts might have earned their brothers on the surface a reprieve—but only a brief one. And from the looks of it, that sa plan would not work again.
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