<pfont-weight: 400″>Quintus had been right about the importance of stats. The next day, the Legion’s march had them closing in on Habersville before the sun even began to set.

Despite the blistering pace they’d set, he felt good—even better than he had on the way to Stonewake—well, Stonester now. He had slept for a whole five hours, which was significantly more than usual. As he’d aged, his need for sleep had dwindled to short catnaps a few times during the night. A solid block of five hours was practically unheard of. But his exhaustion had evidently been even greater than he’d realized.

The sleep and the increased stats together made the march feel like a casual evening stroll, despite having crossed what must have been several days worth of distance. It gave him less time than he’d expected to revise his proposal to Tiberius—especially considering that he’d also been checking on the various farms they’d visited on the way here. Fortunately, they all appeared to be in good order and showing no obvious signs of rebellion or aggression.

As the Legion’s steps thundered across the packed-earth roads of the plains—another thing that he was sure they’d remedy soon—his primary concern was one of tactics. Namely, he needed to figure out how to adapt the Legion’s tried-and-true shield wall for other situations. Singular large targets, for example, or smaller groups that didn’t require hundreds of men to be fielded.

He’d done it himself, of course, during the fights with that chimeric snake beast and the spiders and more. Those efforts had seen obvious success. However, that didn’t mean the execution had been perfect. He doubted that it would be as consistently replicable as he’d like. He’d been lucky to have seasoned and incredibly competent men at his side in those cases, but given that most weren’t trained for that particular fighting style, there was a real risk of sloppy execution if others attempted it.

Intentionally integrating small group tactics into their fighting style would require training—training and experimentation. There were certainly skills that would make it more viable and effective, but it would take many fights to determine the best ones.

The Legion favored the division of labor when it came to most general operations of the army, but when it came to combat, things were mostly standardized. It let people fill gaps left by their fallen brethren seamlessly, and he didn’t want to lose that effectiveness altogether. But there would certainly be tradeoffs.

Perhaps, rather than having entirely standardized skillsets, perhaps they could define a few general roles for combatants—overlapping enough that the loss of one wouldn’t render units useless, but specialized enough to leverage their advantages. That would also make it easier to split out smaller groups based on those roles. It was somewhat like the party of adventurers in concept, but far more in line with the Legion’s unique style.

There were more things to consider, of course. The role of auxiliaries in all of this, how archers and cavalry would function if and when they could be recruited, siege weapons and upgrades to their current equipment… There were all manner of things to consider. Quintus could see no area that wouldn’t benefit from a second look under the lens of skill-based combat. But much of this was not his concern. Rather, he wanted to be prepared if he was asked to consult.

His thoughts continued to develop those ideas all the way until the forest came into view. The Legion marched their way across the newly built bridge—which had been finished in their brief absence—an once more crossed into the dappled shade of the trees beyond.

The road was broader than it had been before, widened as the trunks to either side were felled and presumably used for building material. It meant that their column had a much easier time making it through. But those weren’t the only changes.

As the wooden walls of Habersville came into view, Quintus saw a new clearing had been cut nearby. There, studding the space, stood a collection of freshly hewn crosses, each adorned with a single unmoving body.

He blinked. Not at the display, necessarily—this was far from the first crucifixion that Quintus had seen. But more about what it meant.

Muttered conversations arose from the ranks. Someone whistled. “Someone stepped over the line. Didn’t expect to see that many bodies by this point.”

“I thought we were past the time where we needed to make examples. Think the Legatus is going soft?”

“Tiberius? Soft? You need your fuckin’ head checked. Stone will go soft first.”

“Not soft of course… he normally starts out with examples at the start, so softer maybe? Didn’t think Gaius would be the one to lay down the law here.”

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“Whatever. It’s mostly men up there. You know what that means?”

“Lots of lonely widows?”

“Nice.”

“What the fuck is wrong with your heads. I meant there’ll be more booze to go around, fools.”

“You think this many deaths will make a difference? The town isn’t that small, idiot. Besides, even if there is, I’d bet those who stayed have drank it all dry by now.”

“Still bet there are some more ladies around. Hey, you think there’s a seduction skill?”

“Fuck off… Only you would need it.”

“What do you think happened?” One of the centurions muttered to Quintus as they marched.

He shook his head. “No idea. But I suppose we’ll find out soon.”

He took a closer look at the spot. Every one of the people hanging there was already dead. As he started scanning the faces, he found that he actually recognized a few. The first was the pot-bellied former mayor of Habersville. The second was one of the adventurers he’d rescued—the foolish, hotheaded one that had tried to attack him.

Quintus clucked his tongue in disappointment. Neither figure was a particular surprise. He’d figured they’d each find their way into trouble somehow. Still, it was disappointing. Sparing their lives had evidently been a waste of time.

Looking over the rest of the faces, he noted that the other two adventurers—the [Ranger] and [Healer]

— weren’t present. Perhaps they weren’t involved in whatever foolishness had led to this. Or perhaps they’d simply died by different means.

There was one other noteworthy feature of the display. Unless Quintus missed his mark, most of the people up there—aside from the two individuals he recognized— were Habersville guards. He chose to take that as a good sign. Perhaps the trouble had been limited in scope, then. Still, it spoke volumes that Gaius had needed to make such an example.

Since arriving, the Legion had been fairly lenient with Habersville’s civilians. Leadership had agreed that they needed to build up a populace loyal to them more than they needed to instill absolute obedience. Rome’s reputation didn’t precede them here, which certainly didn’t help—but so far, the decision had proven to be a successful one. The citizens had been nearly model, with a few small exceptions.

Of course, they still lacked an understanding of Rome’s ways, but that would come in time.

He shook his head and fell back in the column. Many of the other men were looking as they walked past, clearly wondering what had happened. But no one broke rank, which he was quite satisfied with. It didn’t take long for Quintus to fall in next to Tiberius, whose expression had darkened at the display.

“…I don’t know the situation,” Quintus said after a brief salute, “But I suspect this could change our approach to the citizenry.”

“A rebellion, I assume,” Tiberius informed him. “I received a notification that it was contested back in Stonester. I expect Gaius will give a full report when we meet. Although…” Tiberius turned to look at the camp. “Something strikes me as odd.”

“Odd, sir?”

“I’m not sure I understand what happened here. It doesn’t seem so simple as a revolt. If it was, then it was handled quite cleanly—even more so than our initial assault. There is hardly a disturbance around the camp at all.”

Quintus followed Tiberius’s gaze and saw that he was right. The camp looked completely unchanged. There weren’t any signs of a battle or commotion, not so much as a sword scar on one of the fortifications. The palisades looked as fresh as they had when they were built several weeks ago. The same went for Habersville’s walls.

“Maybe this revolt was as ineffective as the resistance when we arrived?” Quintus suggested. “If it was perpetrated by the guards, then it wouldn’t be surprising.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps there’s something else at play.”

Quintus looked over. The Legatus’s expression remained hard and unreadable.

“Is something wrong, sir? Do you disapprove?”

Tiberius shook his head. “No. I will expect a report of course, but I trust that Gaius had good reason to do what he did. I simply do not appreciate the implications.”

Quintus had to agree. It wasn’t just about what this meant for Habersville’s people. It was also an uncomfortable reminder of the possibility of rebellion from within.

Roman politics and the Senate were known for being cutthroat–often literally. Emperors knew that better than anyone. Many a Roman emperor had been assassinated by his own men over anything from misunderstandings to pure greed. And now that Tiberius held that position, he was also subject to its many dangers.

However, the Legatus seemed calm. Perhaps it was because they were among brothers, away from the worst of the empire’s political machinations. But that didn’t mean such things had been left behind entirely.

Quintus wasn’t sure where the man’s trust in Gaius had come from. The boy was young and untested, and in order to be in his position, he had to be relatively ambitious—especially at such a young age. That Tiberius didn’t think Gaius would try to claim power in his absence… Or perhaps he did suspect such a thing, and merely kept it to himself.

Quintus shook his head, dispelling the thoughts of distrust from his mind. This was exactly why he wanted to avoid politics. He loved the simple life of a soldier, where he could trust his brothers to stand by their side, rather than behind his back with a knife. As their empire grew, so too would the role of politics. But the longer they could put that day off, the better.

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