B2 Chapter 72: Onward

Tiberius looked out over the assembled troops as they cheered, their eyes filled with fire. The fireworks overhead shook the air with each thunderous detonation, coloring the sky in fiery hues.

The System had caught him off guard with its offer of a new class. But considering what he hoped to achieve, refusing it would have been foolish. Even if it meant that he’d needed to move ahead with his plans much sooner than expected.

He spared a glance toward Gaius. The boy stood as ramrod straight as he’d ever seen, as though the effort would somehow make himself appear taller and older than he would otherwise. It was plain enough to Tiberius’s eye that he was doing his best to hide the mix of pride and sheer wide-eyed fear at the sudden and unexpected promotion he’d been handed. But some small amount of it still leaked into the boy’s expression.

Tiberius mentally chastised himself. He would have to curb that habit of referring to Gaius as a mere boy, even mentally. He was a Legatus now, after all. And while Tiberius was still his superior, there was a certain amount of respect he needed to demonstrate to Gaius—especially if he wanted the men to do the same.

Although perhaps this was a fortuitous development. It meant that Gaius would have the support of an experienced and trustworthy Primus Pilus to oversee the transition. At least, until the next human legion was deemed ready and Quintus took command as the third Legatus.

He turned his attention once again toward the massed forces. It was rare for multiple legions to operate together. A single one was usually more than enough to handle any situation, save in the most dire of times—such as the Punic Wars. Even in more peaceful times, they stayed together as a single unit on patrol, often in one of the provinces or as an occupying force in one of the more civilized areas.

Still, as he looked out across the sea of red and green before him, Tiberius couldn’t help but feel a little… exposed. Vulnerable. He had officially handed the reins of his Legion, the authority over his men, over to another. Combined with the fact that this new elven legion had yet to see battle under his command, he couldn’t help but worry. If they did decide to stage a coup…

Well, he didn’t think that they could hold a candle to his own men and their training. But the point still remained.

Of course, he didn’t show any of those misgivings on his face. He didn’t believe that he’d be betrayed by this Sylendor and his men, not based on the borderline reverential treatment he’d received from the elves thus far. And even if Gaius was Legatus now, the fact remained that the Legion had been his men under his command for almost two decades at this point. Loyalty like that didn’t simply vanish overnight—especially not when there were other foes to contend with.

He could only hope that the [Emperor] class would come with some sort of guard against treachery by his subjects, much like how [Legatus] had increased the effect of his skills and titles on his Legionnaires. Although he was no fool. He knew the history of the Empire, even in their world, had been rife with backstabbings and assassinations. Even if the class did

come with some sort of protection, he would need to watch his back even more from here on.

The matter was sent to the back of his mind for the moment. As eager as he was to find the nearest class stone and investigate the benefits of his new class, it would have to wait. Right now, he had other obligations to attend to.

As the celebration began to wind down, Tiberius saw a small group of figures crest the rise nearby. A group of Legionnaire scouts, with a lone figure at their center. One who appeared to be panting with exertion.

Tiberius glanced back at Lucius, who shook his head. The small motion told the emperor all he needed to know. It was not an attack or an obvious threat. But it seemed that the scouts had decided whatever this man was doing here, it warranted him being brought in.

One of the scouts broke off from the group and headed toward Tiberius. He offered the emperor a smart salute. “Sir. A messenger has arrived from the Duke of Redcliffe.”

Tiberius nodded. “Understood. Gaius?”

To his credit, the new Legatus sobered up almost instantly. “Yes, emperor?”

His expression turned serious as he awaited Tiberius’s command. For his part, Tiberius simply nodded toward the messenger. “Take care of it.”

“Understood, sir!”

Gaius wasted no time in taking the scout aside to speak with him. A few minutes later, Gaius had a letter in his hands. The young Legionnaire inspected the seal and edges for any concealed tricks before opening it. After scanning its contents, he approached Tiberius once again with a pleased expression.

“For you, emperor.” Gaius offered up the letter. “It seems that our efforts bore fruit. We will have more allies on our next campaign after all.”

As Tiberius read over the message himself, he smiled. The duke had chosen a side. The right one. All that remained to see was how useful his forces would end up proving.

Looking up at the messenger he made eye contact. “Convey to the duke that I am pleased by his choice. I look forward to our alliance.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The emperor lifted his gaze once more, folding the letter in his hands. He looked out over the expectant faces of the Legionnaires, who had fallen quiet once more as they awaited their orders. His

orders.

“Legionnaires!” Tiberius shouted, his words echoing in the silence. “March!”

***

The streets of Hausten bustled with an unexpected amount of life. At least, more than Marcus had thought to expect. It was a far cry from the people he’d seen cowering in their homes and hiding before. Truly, the place must have been recovering well.

He honestly couldn’t believe the completeness of the turnaround—or the speed with which it had occurred. The taking of the city had been bloody and terrible, and a large portion of their population had died in battle before the Legion even made it to the walls. Now, though? The majority of people seemed to have moved past it already. Sure, there were a lot more women and children than men walking on the streets, but everyone seemed comfortable and safe.

Part of that was likely due to the work the Legion had done. The infrastructure had been improved to an unprecedented degree. Honestly, not even the capital could compare to the average standard of living here at this point. The streets were clean. Everything was well-maintained. All the new amenities, such as running water and the sewer system, worked. The latter was an incredible innovation that kept the whole place more pristine than Marcus could have ever imagined a city being. In fact, this was the first one Marcus had ever been to that didn’t smell. Small towns like Habersville were one thing, but a mass of people this large? It was inconceivable.

He strode down toward one of the districts that had seen the most overhaul in recent weeks—the temple district.

Temples to all sorts of gods dominated a large plaza. Many of them bore familiar emblems and statues, ones that Marcus had seen countless times throughout his life. Yet these were often dwarfed by the incredible feats of construction that characterized the new temples of Roman gods around them.

But what really surprised him wasn’t the temples themselves. It was how busy they were. Several priests manned bronze braziers in front of each temple, many of them locals, as a steady stream of offerings was poured into them by passerby. Whether it was food, wares, or simply money, whatever was set into them melted or burned to ash, replaced by a stream of shining smoke that rose toward the heavens as divine power.

Marcus watched one of the streams go with interest. According to the Legionnaires he’d talked to, it wasn’t uncommon for new populations to adopt the Roman gods rather quickly. And given how easily the Legion had taken the city, well… The locals had plenty of reason to believe that their forces must be blessed in some capacity. So why not try and worship these obviously powerful entities?

Notably, despite their relative prevalence in the pantheon, there were no temples to Arashim, Kyraz, or Kona to be found. It was possible that they just lacked a follower base in Hausten. But Marcus rather doubted it. Far more likely that the rebellion of those gods’ adherents back in Habersville had left the Legion with a bit of a grudge. He hadn’t exactly expected them to forget about the episode, but still…

The observation made him shudder slightly. These Romans certainly were serious about their grudges. Yet another reason for Marcus to be wary of crossing them. As if he needed any more.

As he walked, Marcus suddenly froze mid-step. He felt something. A tingling sensation that prickled across his skin. It was a familiar feeling, similar to what he might experience when [Appraisal]

was used on him by someone who wasn’t particularly sneaky. Yet this time, it felt… weightier. Like something more powerful had set its eyes upon him.

Marcus turned and looked at the temple he had been standing in front of. It was a Roman one, of course, yet not one that he recognized. The statue out front depicted a young man drawing a massive bow aimed skyward. Strapped to his back was a stringed instrument, though one that Marcus had never particularly favored. A lyre.

“Pardon me.” He addressed one of the priests standing out front. “Might I inquire about whose temple this is?”

“Of course, sir.” The boy, who couldn’t have been older than fourteen, answered formally. He was practically swimming in the white toga that draped over him. “Within this temple, we worship the god Apollo—god of the sun.”

Marcus frowned. He didn’t know of many Roman gods beyond Mars, as the war god was practically the only one the Legionnaires talked about. But he did have to admit that the aesthetics of this one did strike his fancy.

“Is he the god of anything else?”

The boy frowned with obvious confusion. “Well, yes, but does it matter? The sun is the coolest one. If a god controls the bloody sun, then all that other stuff is kind of secondary, now isn’t it?”

Marcus sighed. Evidently, not all of these “priests” were the most well-versed about their new gods. Or in how to appear as aloof and formal as the station usually demanded. He supposed he couldn’t complain too much, though. At least he was straightforward.

“What is the ‘other stuff’, as you so eloquently put it?”

He saw the boy make an effort to avoid rolling his eyes. By this point, the priest had dropped all pretense of formality. “Archery’s the other big one. There’s also healing and protection, which are admittedly pretty cool. And then there’s the other stuff, like prophecy, dancing, music, poetry… Artsy stuff like that.”

The priest rushed through the last few, even as Marcus’s eyebrows rose with interest. He glanced again at the temple. He’d never been one much for Jacquere, god of the fine arts. He gave Marcus the impression of a rather haughty god who would sneer at some of the baser forms of entertainment that Marcus himself valued. But perhaps he’d be willing to give this one a chance.

Reaching into his pocket, Marcus fished out a gold coin and flipped it into the brazier. It melted in moments, replaced by a golden wisp that curled skyward. In the distance, underneath the sound of the bustling plaza, he thought he heard the faint strumming of a lyre.

A slow smile spread over his face. It seemed that Mars really wasn’t the only god these Romans had brought with them.

The moment was interrupted by a sudden notification appearing before his eyes. Given the circumstances, he half expected it to be related to Apollo somehow. But as he skimmed over the text, his eyes practically bulged out of his head.

[System-wide announcement: The mythical class of Emperor has been claimed by Tiberius Rufius Maro. All glory to the Emperor!]

Marcus swore loudly. Turning on his heel, he set out at a dead sprint, pushing his [Running] skill as far as it would go. All he’d wanted was a little time to himself, and now he risked missing the most monumental event of his lifetime. Well, he wouldn’t have it. Whatever the Legion were doing, he’d be damned if he let them leave him behind.

“Wait for me!”

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