B3 Chapter 10: Performance Review

Tiberius watched the approach of the enemy’s main force on horizon, his expression stony and implacable. They’d known to expect them, of course. But their arrival was ill-timed nonetheless.

The dark cloud hanging above began to disperse. Blue skies above appeared once more as the hailstorm slowed, then ceased entirely, the last of its daggers falling upon the retreating vanguard.

Focusing only confirmed Tiberius’s suspicions. Tapping into one’s state with the crown revealed the beginnings of a headache afflicting him, a consequence of overtaxing one’s mana pool.The unit of the Legion’s half-mages were spent.

He’d been warned about this. Given the men’s inexperience with magic, their efficiency in using it apparently left much to be desired and resulted in a lot of waste for the moment. As they trained and improved, their control and capabilities would only grow.

This display had been impressive, to be sure. But not nearly as impressive as they would be given a bit more time.

But for now, considering the fact that the men’s mana pool was shared? They were right to stop when they did. Continuing to push things ran the risk of afflicting the whole Legion with debilitating pain.

Turning his attention back to the battle at large, Tiberius frowned. As impressive as the spell had been, it was also a single use resource, and its timing left much to be desired. Its barrage of innumerable and comparatively weak attacks had pinned the enemy down, but been rendered largely ineffective by their armor, shields, and protective magic. As was to be expected of an elite unit. The hail may have found more success against the more numerous and presumably weaker main force.

It was one of many missteps and questionable decisions that Tiberius took note of. Using [Keen Eye], he picked out the new Legatus from amidst the battlefield, safely behind the Legion’s fortifications. He looked up and down between a projected map and the battlefield itself. A flurry of messengers sprinted about him, some standing perfectly still as they relayed orders telepathically to others. Tension was written plain across his face.

Tiberius understood. It was the boy’s first battle leading the Legion, after all. His first real opportunity to earn the men’s trust—or lose it by displaying incompetence. He had reason to be tense.

Perhaps Gaius was so wrapped up in ensuring a victory here that he’d failed to account for the long term. The young were brash and always felt the need to prove themselves, after all. It would explain his premature use of the magic and sending the Legion to pursue the vanguard rather than just allowing the duke’s cavalry to mop up.

But his eagerness led to missteps. The incoming forces accelerated as they made to join the battle, and now the Legion was out of position. Though they still could rely on the unreasonable durability of [Coordinated Bulwark]

, an enemy charge wouldn’t have their numbers lessened by the field of traps and fortifications that the vanguard had needed to overcome.

Of course, they had other options. But it was a matter of winning the battle at risk of losing the war. They’d shown their hand and left fewer tools in reserve than Tiberius would have.

Overall… he was disappointed.

Tiberius shook his head. The situation was not irredeemable. After all, they still clearly had the upper hand. The vanguard had been routed successfully. But this could have been a rout of the entire enemy army instead.

One thing he did notice was Gaius’s support staff—or rather, a notable absence from it. Quintus. The Primus Pilus was fighting on the front lines, putting his efforts toward maintaining the shield wall alongside his brethren.

While that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary—he was doing a damn good job of it, as always—this was another decision that raised Tiberius’s eyebrows. Why hadn’t Gaius pulled the man back? He was the most seasoned Legionnaire they had, and his tactical knowledge and command experience were invaluable. Yet Gaius chose not to have the man at his side, giving him advice?

He wasn’t sure who he was going to reprimand about that decision. Had Gaius decided to send the centurion away, deciding that the battle was his to command on his own? Had he been so hot-headed as to think he didn’t need advice? Or had Quintus been the hot-headed one, rushing into battle without thinking about where else he might better serve the Legion?

Perhaps it was a matter of politics. He knew that Quintus had called the general muster and issued orders, exactly as he should have. Yet if the new Legatus had taken offense to that, seeing it as his place to do so…

Tiberius wanted to believe that Gaius was not so shortsighted. Yet at the same time, he could not deny the boy had pride appropriate for his young age. Quintus’s reactions would have been deemed perfectly appropriate had Tiberius been in charge, but with a new leader, it would take time for them both to adjust to their new dynamic. A decade’s worth of rapport was not so easily replicated, after all.

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Still, if Gaius continued to let his sharpest sword be used for chopping wood rather than keep it at his side, Tiberius would have to speak up. Unlike Gaius, Quintus already had experience commanding a force in the field. Not just a century or a single cohort, either. He’d proven his ability to command everything from a contubernium to half the legion.

It was a skill that not many could boast of. Even plenty of centurions found themselves faltering when their promotions saw them overseeing too many men. And while the man was considerably less talented when it came to the organization and logistics of the Legion, he understood that and had the humility to delegate such tasks.

Gaius would need to do the same—at least until he learned enough to take on such responsibilities himself. For while logistics were the life and breath of an army, living and breathing didn’t automatically make one a capable fighter. Staying alive was not enough to win a battle. Well, most of them.

Tiberius looked over the camp. Even there, signs of Gaius’s inexperience showed. The fortifications and preparations they’d made had been rushed, started far too late to properly overlap them and create a truly unassailable position. There had been time for it. But Gaius had hesitated, taken too long to decide on a battle plan and react to the threat. He’d sought more information before committing rather than being proactive.

At least he’d recognized his mistake. Only, he’d overcompensated by being too decisive and aggressive shortly after. It was understandable, a fair reaction to being pressed hard, as hard as they’d ever been since arriving in this world. But understandable didn’t mean optimal.

The emperor watched as a few of the faster members of the vanguard hurried toward their advancing allies. Scouts, no doubt, or at least men with enough speed to take information back to the others. Information about their defenses, their weather magic, the elves’ archery, the [Osteomancy] specialists… All the capabilities they’d shown during this fight.

At least they hadn’t shown everything. They still held a number of specialist cohorts in reserve, and the siege weapons had yet to come into play. Something that would likely change soon, considering how the weaponry had been quietly repositioned behind hills and whatever cover was available.

That, he did approve of. Though the fact remained that utilizing the less flexible bombardments of the siege machines would have been a better choice before showing off any of their actual secrets.

All in all, despite Tiberius’s misgivings, things could have gone much worse. They had forced the enemy to retreat, made them take heavy losses without taking many of their own, and protected their allies successfully. Those victories, at least, he could grant Gaius.

His attention skimmed over the formation of elves and the duke’s cavalry as they regrouped, preparing for the next phase of the battle. He paid particular attention to the first group. This had been Tiberius’s first opportunity to truly see their forest dwelling brethren in action. True, some of their envoys had made demonstrations of their combat style and abilities during negotiations, but those were the best they had to offer. It didn’t compare to seeing the rank and file at scale.

They had performed adequately. Their discipline was rather respectable, and their archery skills certainly did not disappoint. Yet they had their own collection of shortcomings. Namely, their vulnerability to a charge was inexcusable for any true Legion. Clearly, the Elven Republic in the Great Ruthin Forest had drifted from its roots.

Much of that would be remedied with time and proper training. Yet it made Tiberius consider what form that training should take. He would have to decide whether they should remain as they were, an army with tactics and specializations different to their own, or have them retrained into a more traditional legion.

Such decisions were best saved for a later date, however. Today, there was still a war to be won.

Tiberius checked on the status of his men. The battle had noticeably depleted them. While they weren’t yet exhausted, it was far harder than they’d been pushed in any battle thus far.

Part of that was due to the delays in making tactical decisions. Even if Gaius waited a few seconds to consider each, those precious handfuls added up as his men were forced to endure longer and longer.

It also exposed one of the Legion’s bigger weaknesses. Though their stamina pool was far deeper than what any individual could feasibly use, it wasn’t limitless. And though all could draw on it, allowing them to fight far past a normal man, that very draw would necessarily take its toll on their brethren right alongside them.

Since the pool was shared, even a full cohort held in reserve to enter the battle fresh would find themselves exhausted by extended conflict. Resting on the backline could recover some of their energy, but it was a pittance compared to what the frontline fighters consumed.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that rest was entirely pointless—there was still the immediate tiredness of physical exertion that affected each individual. But the problem was clear when it came to skill use.

“Have the duke order his men to pull back for now.” Tiberius spoke to the empty air without turning his head. “Have the elves take up positions behind the first Legion as well. There is no sense in allowing them to be exposed if they cannot maintain the same level of defense.”

“Sir.” He heard Lucius acknowledge the orders before going silent to communicate them. Each force’s commander had a Legionnaire with him for just such communications, though the majority of the messages passed still were communicated through messengers. Old habits died hard, and given how hard they were taxing their stamina pool, conserving it wherever possible seemed prudent.

As his orders were passed down, Tiberius considered that he himself may have also made a mistake. He had been content to allow his commanders free rein, to see what they would do and observe their tactics from afar. But such an arrangement left a vacuum at the top of the hierarchy. Gaius had taken charge for now, fortuitously enough, but such a gap could have led to discord, infighting, and even more tactical slip-ups.

He would have to thank the elven Legatus for his tact and understanding. And ensure that he did not make the same mistake again. But right now, perhaps it was time to take a bit more active role in commanding Rome’s forces.

Tiberius began to relay additional orders to Lucius, trying to keep from micromanaging too much. It seemed that this battle was proving to be a learning experience for all of them. He just had to make sure these mistakes didn’t come at the cost of men’s lives.

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