mijobooks B3 Chapter 83: Deal with the Devil
B3 Chapter 83: Deal with the Devil
B3 Chapter 83: Deal with the Devil
Marcus half expected to see that Corwyn Pass was no longer in conflict by the time they arrived. Perhaps the Legionnaires would pull some magic out of their helms—literal or figurative—and manage to best their foe in his absence. Or perhaps the orcs would have actually overwhelmed the men from one side or the other.
But neither proved to be the case. Though Marcus could spot the mass of green that had collected around the entrance to the pass and its new tunnel from a mile away. The orcs had expanded far past the tunnel entrance, pooling around the entrance to the pass like a new lake. The flood butted up against the last gate of the pass, with the Legionnaires that had been resting now embroiled in a similarly defensive battle as their brethren deeper in. They seemed to be keeping the orcs at bay, for the moment.
The sight honestly surprised Marcus. Not because the battle continued on—he’d partially hoped for that to be the case, as it would mean the Legionnaires hadn’t been crushed outright. But because of what the orcs weren’t doing. They weren’t spilling into the empire’s interior. If they chose to simply rush past the battle and raid the largely undefended settlements further in, they could. The Legionnaires were in no position to stop such a thing. And yet the orcs remained.
The reason for this became clear as he paid closer attention to the enemy’s movements. Rather than milling about aimlessly or charging forward with suicidal rage, the comparatively clear-minded orcs moved in lines and groups meant to approximate the Legion’s ranks. Though the descriptor was a generous one, to say the least. Even the straightest line Marcus saw looked as though it had been drawn by a drunken flamingo hopping about on one leg. But there was an effort being made with regard to organization.
As they approached further, Marcus saw a section of the “formation” near the rear begin to shift. A large portion of green figures made to sneak away, heading into the empire as Marcus expected. Yet they didn’t make it far before others began to brawl with them. Rather than spread across the ranks like wildfire, however, a couple of higher-level orcs quickly shoved their way toward the conflict and forced everyone back into line with a few well-placed blows. Leaders, probably. Marcus thought he saw some sort of glowing sigil branded across their skin as they moved back into position.
That was worrisome. It seemed as though whoever was commanding the orcs had a greater degree of control than ever before. Worse, they’d decided that destroying the Legion was more important than their actual invasion.
Marcus and his group slowed their approach as they neared, employing a few skills and spells to mask their movements. He felt the muting sensation of the skill inactivation field fall over him like a wet blanket. It snuffed out the various abilities the men had been using, both passive and active, and caused the entire column to slow. They pulled back until they were just at the threshold, and their skills activated once more.
Marcus and Abel accompanied Claudius as he moved to speak with his fellow centurions. “It seems that we aren’t as lucky as we hoped.”
“Indeed. But that doesn’t mean we’re completely powerless.” Claudius turned to address his men. “Begin setting up fortifications around the perimeter of the field. If the orcs come this way, I want to be ready.”
Men hurried to comply as Claudius turned back to Marcus. “I expected this field to be gone by now.”
“As did I,” he agreed. “The last didn’t persist for nearly so long. Perhaps the orcs set up a new one?”
“Perhaps. We have no way of knowing without a way to speak with our brethren.” Claudius nodded toward the wall. “I suppose it’s even better that we brought those mages, then. Now, let’s talk about strategy…”
The Legionnaires were joined by a few other centurions and officers as they bent their heads together. Marcus stepped away once it seemed that he was no longer needed. Instead, he took some time to simply relax and move about the men. There was still a battle ongoing, but it wasn’t one that he had a role in for the moment. And he’d been pushing himself hard—between distracting the orcs, inspiring Abel and his horse, and spurring Claudius’s men toward their brethren, he was all but tapped. He’d only just recovered from stamina drain, and he had no desire to relive that experience if he didn’t have to.
He moved about, making conversation with the various specialists as they organized themselves and prepared for their own role in the fight. Fortifications of bone, stone, and bright patterns began to quickly rise around the field of skill nullification, aiming to contain the orcs. The mixture of aesthetics appeared as though they were decorating for some sort of macabre harvest festival celebrated by tribal folk. But if Marcus knew these men, then the constructions were far from cosmetic.
Despite current appearances, it was entirely possible that some of the orcs had already dispersed into the countryside. Or that this group might change their minds and decide to invade at scale after all. The Legionnaire reinforcements were perfectly positioned to prevent that.
He spoke with any man who wasn’t actively engaged in some sort of project, though they were few and far between. Even the half-mages were busy, flipping through their spellbooks and reviewing the text within. He heard a few muttering practice incantations under their breath or scratching out carefully measured words of power onto pages.
One in particular caught his attention. The man was sitting slightly away from the group, his back turned on the others as he bent over a spellbook of his own.
“...But how to transfer it… Airborne? Too cost-prohibitive, and weak as well… No, a touch-based effect should suffice…”
“Might I ask what you’re working on, friend?” Marcus bent down to the Legionnaire’s level. The man didn’t even look up from his work as he answered.
“A solution.”
“Oh?” Marcus craned his neck to look at the page. What he saw was… simple. Surprisingly so. He'd expected something complex and dense, something more in line with the ravings of a madman. But this was the sleek and deceptive elegance of a genius.
“The orcs are idiots,” the Legionnaire began to explain absentmindedly as he added to the snarl of spell inscriptions. “An unfortunate drawback of their otherwise impressive capabilities, and a consequence of their creation that haunts them to this day. Intelligence scores no higher than five or six make them little better than beasts. Some of their greatest minds buck that trend, but even they struggle with such things.
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“Indeed.” Marcus looked up with surprise to see Claudius standing over them. “But from our observations, it seems to be a boon. A smart man hesitates to rush into battle with the fervor of these creatures. And given their [Battle Lust], they are more or less protected from the drawbacks of such a tradeoff. Many battles can be won with numbers if one doesn’t care for the loss of life.”
The mage scowled. “That blasted [Battle Lust]... Dampening its effects has helped to clear their minds, but it’s all too clear that the majority of them are simply too stupid, beyond saving…”
The half-mage shook himself and visibly regained his train of thought. “There is a spell. An old spell, lost to time. One that was once used in the training of mages and their apprentices. It opens one’s eyes to the mysteries beyond, allowing them to contemplate the unknowable. Opening the gates to mysteries jealously kept from mortal sight.”
Marcus’s eyebrows rose. That sounded… ominous. It made sense that the Grand Mage would be privy to some long-lost and powerful spells like that. Perhaps he’d even used such methods to train his new disciples more quickly and efficiently. That would certainly explain the figure before him.
“Why did it become lost?” The bard asked curiously. “In my experience, things that are swallowed up by the eddies of time generally have good reason to do so.”
“Foolishness,” the Legionnaire scoffed. “Those with strong minds would largely reap benefits from its use in the form of enlightenment and understanding, both of the world and their own abilities. Yet those without the proper mental fortitude would find themselves overwhelmed by such knowledge. Guidelines were established, then subsequently broken by those who thought they knew better. Nobles and wealthy merchants who sought to give their oh-so-special and intelligent children a boon found them broken in mind and spirit. As a result, the gods saw fit to purge the spell from the populace and ensure that such a fate never befell another.”
Claudius was listening, and Marcus started to see where he was going. A shiver ran up his spine. “That… sounds like a tragedy.”
The Legionnaire finally looked up to meet Marcus’s gaze. His eyes seemed to crackle with unexpected intensity. “They knew the risks. They knew the benefits as well. Everyone that strives for greatness stands atop the corpses of a hundred who fell in its pursuit. The real tragedy is the overreach of the old gods in the name of ‘mercy,’ as flimsy an excuse as that is.”
The man spoke with surprising harshness. It was quite clearly a cautionary tale against reaching too far in the pursuit of power. But this man clearly didn’t see it the same way. What Marcus read off of him was something more akin to…affront? Righteous indignation, perhaps.
Turning back to the page, the Legionnaire continued. “Nevertheless. Perhaps this spell can be put to better use now. Not for its intended purpose, but for a valuable one all the same.”
Claudius frowned. “What do you have in mind? As far as I can tell, the orcs have no proclivity toward magic. Nor would they agree to have such a spell cast upon them, even if it were framed as a boon.”
Marcus’s eyes widened. He recalled what the man had been muttering when he first approached. “He doesn’t mean for it to be consensual. He means to spread it like a disease.”
A wide grin split the mage’s face. “Precisely. Without their [Battle Lust] ‘protecting’ them, they will be susceptible to a spell such as this. And if combined with the proper incantations for replication…”
His heart stopped. He read over the spell and confirmed his fears. “That’s… that sounds alarmingly like a spell plague, friend.”
“As I said. A solution.”
The mage’s grin widened. Marcus simply stared at the madman in front of him in silence as Claudius looked between them. “Explain.”
He hesitated. The Legionnaires were new to this world. There was much they didn’t understand about its dangers and history. As such, they likely didn’t comprehend the severity of a spell plague such as this. A normal one, sure, but one infused with magic? Stories were filled with countless examples of their horrors. Entire countries had fallen to mages experimenting with such things—both their successes and failures.
It could work. Far too well. But that didn’t make it any less of a terrifying idea.
“We can’t.” Marcus couldn’t help but object. “If the plague spreads beyond its intended targets, it could wreak havoc. Not to mention the very casting of such a thing is sure to bring down the wrath of the gods.”
The mage snorted derisively. “Anywho, those who are stupid enough to be affected by such a thing deserve their fate. Regardless, we are at the edge of civilization, far from any other life that could take up the plague. Its cleansing flame will burn itself out rather than go dormant to infect later hosts. And I trust that no Legionnaire has managed to survive this far with such a low intelligence.”
Claudius nodded thoughtfully, running the calculations in his head. The lack of objection from him suggested that the mage was right on the money. But he didn’t stop there.
“As for the gods… I wouldn’t worry. I doubt they can spare the attention. They have their hands too full to bother, especially for an attack not directed at their followers. And if they do… Well, I don’t suspect that Mars would allow such an attack to go unanswered. Much less the rest of his family.”
“The emperor would not object,” Claudius said with conviction. “Not if such a measure preserved the lives of his men. And as for the wrath of these gods, I’d certainly like to see them try their hand against him.”
“I suspect that you are massively overestimating Tiberius’s abilities…” Marcus muttered quietly under his breath. The man was no god. Though he wouldn’t know it from the worship in Claudius’s expression. It seemed the men’s respect for their former Legatus had only intensified as of late.
Marcus looked between the two. He could feel Claudius’s opinion shifting as he leaned toward employing this attack, horrifying though it may be. The mage was right about one thing. It was a solution. Perhaps the only one they really had.
Closing his eyes, he breathed in. Marcus could bring his skills to bear, employ the full extent of his persuasion to win this debate, and keep a spell plague from being loosed on the land. But… then what? The Legionnaires would die a slow, painful death. They would be crushed over the course of days and weeks, hoping for more reinforcements that wouldn’t come. And the responsibility would fall squarely upon his own shoulders.
Marcus let the breath out. He hadn’t gone to all this trouble just to let the Legionnaires die anyway. But the decision wasn’t up to him. It was up to Claudius.
The Legionnaire mage simply smiled, his eyes seeming to flicker with inner light. He finished writing and ripped the page out of his spellbook, then offered it to Claudius. “You need a solution to the orc problem. I have one. Take it. Or do you believe that another answer will present itself? Before we take losses too great to recover from?”
With that ominous thought, the mage turned and left, disappearing into the mass of other Legionnaire half-mages. Marcus watched him go with a frown. Something had been bothering him this entire conversation, nagging at the back of his mind. He’d thought he’d met every man in the Legion, even spoken with most. His mind was filled with a seemingly endless roster of names and faces to match. And yet this man… he couldn’t place him. Not easily.
“What do you think?”
He turned his attention back to Claudius. “I think it’s a terrible idea. And possibly the only good option we have.”
Marcus looked again toward the Legionnaire, but could no longer make him out amongst the other men. He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Do you recall that man’s name? It seems to have slipped my mind.”
“Now that you mention it… I don’t.” Claudius’s expression clouded. “I don’t believe I’ve met that one before. Odd.
“Odd, indeed.” Marcus continued staring in the direction the man had disappeared.