B4 Chapter 5: Hasten the Engineers
Shouts of warning rose from Quintus’s group as more men spotted the incoming dragon. He and the other full Legionnaires overseeing this training exercise began to spread out in a defensive formation. Shields locked together as Karma’s breathing specialists closed their eyes and began cycling lungfuls of air so great that he could feel the disturbance in the wind. The centurions-in-training glanced over as well, but didn’t allow themselves to be distracted from their own battle. They continued fighting off the [Rock Golem], albeit with more urgency than before.
Quintus drew his sword and prepared for a fight. The dragon dipped lower, causing their entire group to tense. Then, just outside of bow range and still above the treetops, it banked away. The massive white dragon turned sideways, lazily changing course to fly perpendicular to their group.
The men let out an audible sigh of relief, except for Quintus. The dragon wasn’t aiming for them. But he knew where its new route would take it.
“The camp!” He shouted in alarm.
As if on cue, the dragon resumed its dive toward a hill a few miles off. The group with Quintus was only a small fraction of the trainees. The remainder had set up camp there, at a quite defensible position. One where they could see danger coming from a mile away, and far enough from the northern forests where they wouldn't be snuck up on. The camp wasn’t hidden by any means, but it didn’t need to be. Not when they were still well within their own territories.
Yet that same high ground now served to make them a particularly juicy target for a threat from the sky.
The full Legionnaires were already running. Quintus commanded a couple of his more experienced centurions to remain with the trainees. Then, he spun on his heel and dropped his shield. His gladius flashed from its scabbard as he dashed forward, leaping high into the air toward the [Rock Golem].
The blade slid into a hairline crack in the golem’s head as though by magic, then continued through as though the stone were merely flesh. [Rend] accelerated the blade and allowed it to keep its momentum as [Tear] pulverized the rock on either side of the blade. A thick core of ruby stone flashed in the sunlight as shards went flying.
Pieces of ruby dulled as they hit the ground. The golem froze, standing for a long moment before it sloughed back into a pile of simple stone.
[You have successfully defeated an area boss! You have gained experience.]
Quintus turned to the trainees. “To the camp! Now!”
His order snapped them out of their awestruck daze. The men quickly formed into columns and began [Marching] as fast as they could toward the hill, led by the Legionnaire centurions.
Quintus blazed ahead. With the area boss taken care of, there was little else in this area that would give the would-be centurions trouble. They could catch up. But Quintus? As Primus Pilus, he needed to be with the others. He needed to take charge and help them defend.
He quickly caught up with the two contubernia of Legionnaires with him. Despite all of them being from the same Legion, his oversight of the trainees and other duties meant that he’d leveled [Warpath] higher than most. Between that and his progress with [Sword Saint’s Blade], he became one of the more dangerous members of the army, up there with some of the more dedicated specialists. His skills hadn’t yet hit the wall that so many of this world’s natives cited as an impediment to their own growth. Perhaps that was simply because of his diligence. Or perhaps there was more to it.
Though the credit couldn’t be entirely left to his skills. Between the extermination of so many orcs and the efforts to clear the Empire of internal threats, the Legion had gained a respectable number of levels. He and the others were now level eight—although that progress was slowing. Each level became much harder to reach due to increased experience requirements, and the effectiveness of their hunting meant that there were fewer and fewer threats to gain experience from. This area boss would hardly be a drop in the bucket. Although it was technically better than the kill going to the trainees, in a sense. Their levels were sure to reset once they became a full Legion, and hopefully, they’d be able to pick up better rarity skills as well. It was the practical experience he really wanted to focus on.
He neared the camp, bursting out of the forest just as the dragon dipped toward the fortifications. A slew of projectiles rose up to meet it, each one as small and insignificant as a raindrop against the mighty beast. When it was only a dozen feet above the fort, it opened its great maw and released a jet of ice as thick as a battering ram. The column of white slammed into the camp, sending up a plume of earth and splintered wood. The shouts of alarm and hurried orders turned to screams.
Quintus was already yelling orders before he made it into camp. The dragon continued to strafe down its center, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. At least a dozen men lay unmoving, the bladelike icicles having shredded them. A few were frozen solid enough that their blood didn’t even drip from open wounds. Even those who had managed to take cover behind shields or other fortifications bore wounds where the ice had pierced straight through. Even the air itself retained a noticeable chill in the aftermath, one completely at odds with the formerly warm summer day.
This tale has been pilfered from Freewebnovel. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Move the wounded to the sides! Everyone who can fight, to me!” Quintus roared. The dragon had finished its pass and was now banking around for another—this one perpendicular to the first. It was looking to cut a gruesome X through the camp.
Quintus summoned his spear to his hand from where it had been stored nearby, feeling the weight in his palm. He used his momentum to hurl it skyward as the dragon opened its maw once more. The spear screamed toward the dragon, perfectly on track to intersect its flight path. Yet rather than take the blow, the dragon rolled and swiped toward it with gleaming talons to bat the spear out of the sky.
Quintus summoned it back to his hand but grimaced as he found the tip missing. He dropped the spear and summoned another. Thankfully, they’d brought plenty of spares. Though he wondered how many they’d have left after all of this.
“Prepare to defend! Mages, hit it hard! Karma, can you and your men deflect that beam?”
“I suspect not, Primus.” The bald [Breathing Specialist] said as he caught up. “I believe I may be able to withstand its intensity, but diverting it completely…”
Quintus was already readjusting his plans. “Deflect whatever ice shards you can from the more vulnerable men. Everyone else, get ready!”
The trainees and Legionnaires quickly began forming up under the marginal cover of the palisade, shields at the ready. The Legionnaires prepared to take the brunt of the attack with [Coordinated Bulwark] while the trainees angled to support. With that done, Quintus shouted again.
Those with sling skills stepped back slightly behind the line. The deadly buzzing of leather and lead hummed in the air as they prepared to take on the incoming threat. When the dragon grew near this time, far more projectiles rose up to meet it. But the slings weren’t the only ones.
“Fire!”
A series of deafening cracks split the air. Flashes of purple light accompanied them as a second series of lead projectiles shot toward the dragon with incredible speed. Its scales rippled at the impact, and a couple of pinprick holes opened in its membranous wings. But the dragon hardly noticed.
It was no surprise. These men were an experimental unit, wielding the latest and most portable models of the engineers’ enchanted sling tubes. As such, they were still figuring out the weapons and the skills that best synergized with them. There did seem to be a good amount of overlap with archery-related skills. Still, Quintus had hoped for better, even against a foe like this.
The trainees immediately began reloading without even being told. Though the volleys hadn’t managed to noticeably harm the dragon, that didn’t mean they would stop trying.
A gout of white-hot flame erupted from the handful of Legionnaire mages nearby. The heat was so intense that it chased off the chill, striking the dragon in the flank as it tore through the camp in another run. Flame rippled across its body, seeming to shimmer across its scales with rainbow light. Quintus had to squint in order to see as the light left spots in his vision. Yet as the dragon wheeled in the sky again, he saw no scorches or burns across its hide.
This was looking worse and worse. Their foe was too hardy to be injured by most of their ranged weaponry, out of range of melee attacks, and also apparently resistant to fire or magic in general. He wasn’t entirely certain. Either way, they needed a better way to damage it.
Quintus barked for the men to reposition, preparing for yet another run as the dragon wheeled around once more. He ordered the mages to try and ground the dragon using whatever spells they could—he knew much of their repertoire, but figured they would know the best spells for such a purpose. Many of the wounded were dragged away from the destruction by the Legion’s healers and medics. The whole time, his mind raced.
Killing the beast may be out of the question—he didn’t have enough Legionnaires for that. But could they drive it off? If they managed to convince the dragon that they weren’t such easy prey, then perhaps they could make it seek a meal elsewhere. It would be his best chance of mitigating the damage to his men and their supplies.
He took stock of the assets at his disposal. Thirty Legionnaires in total—ten had remained in the camp to watch over the trainees during the training exercise. Of them, He had three [Breathing] specialists, three mages, two messengers, two engineers, and twenty standard Legionnaires. Quickly running through their skills mentally, only five of those had outstanding ranged capabilities with slings or spears.
Perhaps the engineers could create a siege engine? The trainees hadn’t erected such defenses, as this camp was a temporary one built and rebuilt as practice. A fully functional one, but not outfitted with artillery. Unfortunately, such a thing would take time, and time meant more losses. If they had a way to move faster…
Quintus’s eyes widened. He spun to the mages. “Engineers! To me! I need a ballista, now!”
“Sir!” The two men rushed to comply even as they spoke. “With all due respect, sir, that will take time! Ten minutes at least!”
At any other time, Quintus would have been ecstatic. But that was too long to manage. By that point, the entire camp would be a block of ice. “I authorize use of emergency measures.”
Over the past few months, the Romans had made time to explore many more crafts. Not just those they’d known before, either. They’d begun to delve into the strange world of alchemy.
The men clenched their jaws and nodded. Each took a flask from their belts and began to swig its contents down. They began to jitter and twitch as energy and speed filled them.
He spun to the mages. “Cease fire. Hasten the engineers, help them build!”
The plan clicked for everyone at once. The mages instantly cast [Haste] on the two engineers. The men’s forms blurred as they began moving even faster, hardly visible under the effects of both spell and potion. Another one of the mages began moving materials toward them from around the camp with [Telekinesis] to make their work more efficient.
Turning back toward the dragon, Quintus braced. It would have to be enough. They just needed to buy a bit more time.
Comments