B4 Chapter 7: Three’s a Crowd
Tiberius picked up another report, his eyes scanning through its contents with practiced efficiency. This one concerned the various penal gangs spread across the Empire and the roads they continued to build. It seemed that they’d finished connecting the major cities and noble holds to the great web of roadways and now worked to ensure farms had easy access to such resources. The road to the Great Ruthin Forest and the elven city of Flos Aeternus were also nearing completion, their progress delayed as the elven senate had taken quite a while to agree to the proposal.
These days, the detailed workings of his Empire weren’t Tiberius’s sole concern. Most matters he could effectively [Delegate] to the fleet of aides and clerks he’d trained over the past year and receive a general feeling regarding the progress of the task. It was a bit disorienting sometimes, sitting down for a meal and suddenly feeling with complete conviction that the Empire’s finances had been totaled and placed into the vault. But it was not entirely unwelcome. Though he did prefer to double check the work sometimes.
Seeing that the reports matched what he felt, Tiberius continued shuffling through the stack. Each page was filled with an unending litany of tasks in progress and more that still needed to be done. Construction projects in and around the capital, the yield of the latest harvests, an invoice from the adventurers’ guild for their monster hunting efforts… It was neverending. Yet they were making progress, now that there was no war to draw on the Legion’s stamina pool.
“Sir. Quintus and the men have returned.”
Tiberius rose from the ocean of paperwork with a subtle stretch. He didn’t feel relieved, per se. But it would be nice to put all these matters aside for a while. After all, there were certain things that only the emperor could handle himself.
Lucius shadowed him as he strode down the halls of the castle. The place remained more or less unchanged since they’d conquered it. Most of the expensive art and gaudy furnishings that had once adorned its interior had now been sold off, both to rid themselves of the eyesores and fund all of the Empire’s various doings. In their places were an assortment of gifts and creations, most of them from his legionnaires. A masterwork spear created by one of Gareth’s most promising apprentices. An ever-flowering tree inside of a large pot. A grand and intricately detailed map of the world they now inhabited.
Tiberius paused briefly to examine the last one. Despite how the Empire had grown, there was still so much more to see. To the north were mountains aplenty whose ranges they had yet to explore. To the south, a thin strip of desert set between themselves and the sea. How far it expanded, he didn’t know. The map ended before he could see its furthest reaches. The elves had even spoken of lands beyond their great forest, though in their seclusion, they had not ventured so far in many ages.
Those edges spoke of danger… and opportunity. Even Grand Mage Claude had only incomplete knowledge of what lay beyond, as the man kept to his own business and was not overly fond of travel. But he did speak of dwarves and dragons to the north and far west. Both interested Tiberius, though not equally. He’d seen enough of Rufus to have lost some fascination with dragons. But dwarves? Another race of people so like humans, yet so different… He couldn’t help but remain curious. Given the benefits he’d gained from making contact with the elves, these dwarves could bring even more of a windfall.
But it would likely have to wait. The southern sea took priority as of yet. In his old world, the Mediterranean had been incredibly important to trade, and he could only imagine that having access to water and ships would prove just as beneficial here.
It was one more set of items on his to-do list—one that he found rising steadily toward the top. The pause in their conquest was beginning to grate on Tiberius for more than one reason. Consolidation was important, yes, but the goal was to allow them freedom and stability from which to further expand their Empire. That was how they would continue to gain resources, people, and levels—especially for Tiberius. It had been too long since that number had ticked up on his status, and its stagnation made him feel more than a little bit exposed.
This was one more reason he looked forward to the day’s ceremony. Today, they would formally add a third legion to their ranks.
“The area boss in Lord Pomelo’s territory has been neutralized. Quintus reports satisfaction with the performance of his potential centurions. However, there was a complication…”
The news of a dragon attack was troubling, to say the least, but Quintus seemed relatively satisfied with how it had been handled. He would make sure to get the whole story out of the man after the ceremony. If nothing else, this just made the decision to stand up another Legion even more pressing. Despite the discontent that such a decision would inevitably foster.
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Tiberius strode out of the halls, his Praetorian Guard flanking him as he emerged onto the promenade. Already the legion-to-be stood arrayed in ranks, nearly six thousand men stretching out before him. Their numbers were just short of a full legion—losses and the realities of the battlefield rarely allowed for perfection in their numbers. But it was more than enough.
Tiberius surveyed them as they saluted and cheered. Few were faces he recognized. He hadn’t spent much time among the Habersville auxiliaries that now composed much of this new force, nor the former Novarans that had flocked to join the recruits. Most of them were tradesmen and common workers lured by the appeal of a legendary class and better pay. But there were a few enterprising adventurers among the group as well. Many had earned the auxiliary hybrid class and begun climbing back from level one, but not all.
He turned to the group of Legionnaires that stood before them. Quintus led the group, flanked by Secundus’s stern form and Septimus in those strange robes he insisted on—Tiberius refused to call the man “Karma,” as he insisted. They and the others stood straight-backed and proud, presenting the results of their labors to their emperor. He gave them a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning to address the crowd.
“Men of Rome,” he began. He could not call them citizens, because they were not—not yet. “You have done well. Your dedication to protecting our fair Empire and seeing to her needs has not gone unnoticed. For many months, you have toiled and trained in pursuit of the heights that your predecessors have achieved. You have proven yourselves worthy of carrying the title of Legionnaire. And now, I will have your oaths.”
As one, the men recited the sacramentum militare. Tiberius watched on with keen interest. As they finished, the entire group exploded into white light. Yet rather than radiant like the sun, this glow was almost bearable to witness. Lesser than before.
Lucius whispered in his ear. “It is done. Those with the auxiliary hybrid class retained their levels, as we’d hoped, sir. The others are level one.”
Tiberius relaxed internally. They’d hoped for this result. When the System granted so many of the Habersville conscripts a class change, they’d suspected that it would not be shortsighted enough to reset their levels again once promoted to full Legionnaires. But then again, he still felt as though he was learning many of the ways of this world—and his men’s very existence was far from normal.
That did mean this new Legion contained a wide variety of levels instead of the uniform ones of the previous two. But that wouldn’t last forever. Claude and Gaius had done quite a bit of testing with regard to adding men to a Legion or switching them between Legions. A lower-leveled elf moved up to the original Legion would remain at his current level. He would also retain all skills and skill levels currently assigned. However, his available skill pool and stamina pool became those of his new legion. Even more interestingly, his level would rapidly increase, even as the listed experience total of his fellow Legionnaires froze.
Claude concluded that any experience gained by a Legion would be diverted toward bringing its lowest-level members up to speed before advancing the army as a whole once more. It was rather convenient and allowed them a lot more flexibility with backfilling numbers. It did present some difficulties though—if a higher-leveled Legionnaire moved down to a lower level one, he would simply be stuck at his current level until the rest of his fellows caught up.
This was the situation that Quintus would find himself in. As a level eight, the new Legatus would not see more advancement in his stats for quite some time. But it was worth it. Having a man he’d known for so long leading his legions certainly made Tiberius feel much more comfortable than many of the emperors of old. Putting unproven strangers in charge of Rome’s military might was a recipe for strife and discontent. Especially here.
Tiberius turned to Quintus and motioned for him to step forward. “Quintus Carius Libo! The position of Legatus is a heavy burden to bear. It is a responsibility and an honor offered to but a few capable men. Are you prepared to accept it?”
His old friend lowered himself to kneel. “I am.”
“Then I will have your oath.”
The Primus Pilus recited the same oath as the men. He glowed briefly before turning to his new Legion. Tiberius addressed the group of men—no, citizens—once more.
“I present to you, Legatus Quintus! May he lead you to victory on every battlefield. For the glory of Rome!”
“For the glory of Rome!”
Another round of deafening cheers rang out. Tiberius could see the excitement on the men’s faces. This was what they’d been working for, and they were clearly eager to rush toward a class stone and inspect the changes for themselves. But they remained firmly in place.
He allowed the cheering to continue for a bit longer before motioning for silence. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked upon them. A third army at his disposal. One that would certainly add to their capabilities. One that would allow them to expand once more.
"I charge you to expand Rome’s borders and grow her might. Defend your home and its people. May the sweat of your brow and the blood of your foes water the battlefield before you.”
The men shouted their approval.
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