The homestead was quiet, and Tormenos ached within it. The heirs of his household had both been called to duty, one to war and the other to its preparation, and that left the ancient estate of the Theodoroi quiet indeed, a vast estate for two old men.
One old man, of late. Shu had left on a journey several months ago in search of healing herbs, buoyed by his childrens' example, but Tormenos had no such liberty to wander like he did. As Patriarch, he had a responsibility to the family, and that meant tending to its estates, the most important one of them being the spirit stone mine that was all they had left. A thousand years ago they had managed Waycastles and grand fields, overseen hundreds of
li territory encompassing dozens of towns and cities, and boasted ten thousand servants to their name alone.
All of it, lost when Elder Nagaeon died and his heir faltered in Tribulation. After that the House splintered, every branch and member scattering to the corners of the Golden Devils' territories until all that remained was a dwindling main house that was never able to rise back to the heights it once stood at. It was all they could do to keep the ancestral estate and the ancient records.
The silence of the household was not an awful thing, though, far from it. It brought Tormenos peace and clarity, ample time to focus on his cultivation and on the affairs of the family. But the silence now was starker and harsher, and left Tormenos labouring beneath the gaze of his ancestors, venerable Elders every last one of them. And each of them seemed to be judging him for the way he managed the House and its standing, for his failures in restoring its glories.
Imperator, he tried so hard to change that, in his youth and in his dotage. But it was true, for he had failed and it was impossible to disagree. What was once a family famed as the Vanguard were now forgotten and destitute, left to rot in the sands even as other names began clawing their way back into the light. And ever since he rose to become Patriarch when his own father died, the family's fortunes have not changed. Even though his wife bore him two brilliant daughters, one of whom he had put all his hopes on. Who died, carrying all of his hopes for Clan and House alike. Riala was a genius, but she was not immortal. Perhaps he should have held tighter onto Saria after all.
Such were the thoughts he tried to keep at bay with a pot of Thrice-Boiled Century Jasmine Tea, spiced with medicinal herbs that aided the constitution of the body and firmed the resolve of the mind. He once sought these herbs in a bid to gather his resolve so he could face the lightning, before he found that his Dao pillars were simply too flawed to fuse, and he would die if he ever faced the lightning. Another failure, unable to form the Core.
Now, though, he just liked the taste. The tea one made from brewing such leaves tasted like death and bitterness, which suited him just well. Bitterness often soured into spite, which was half the reason he was even still alive at this point. Spite and ambition, a more iconic duo could not exist.
Ancestors, how unsightly.
Sighing, Tormenos' old bones creaked as he sat into a wooden couch carved five thousand years ago, trying to ignore the gazes of the ancestral portraits that lined the walls. Old and embittered by the thoughts of his failures, Tormenos's thoughts wandered briefly to his grandchildren as he picked up his cup of tea and considered the affairs he would manage today.
Until the door blew open and terror inexplicably filled his heart for perhaps the first time, but certainly not the last time, in many, many years.
----
The door to the Theodoroi Estate was a venerable one. An ancient construction which dated back to before the evacuation from the mountain territories, a miracle of storagecraft that enabled their home and crypt to be brought down into the newly-arisen desert.
Guarding the estate were Wrought-Iron Gates, strands of follicles woven into mighty banded cables lined with arrays that in better times had sparked with guarded intent. Now they stood inactive, an inherited legacy reduced to a mere historical bauble. At the very least, they were well-maintained - the two gates opening inward without a sound.
In comparison, the front door was simply that: A humble door, crafted of wood. Simple glyphs and characters lined it: These were far more recent, and at the very least active. The air rang with the tolling of a bell, and the faint light that filled those carved characters sputtered, blinking erratically.
A shrouded figure approached, great billowing clouds of fog emanating from beneath voluminous robes. And it was tall, taller than most Body Cultivators Tormenos had ever seen. The androgynous entity raised an armored limb, pushing it stiffly against the portal; it's locking mechanisms had long since been disabled.
Then, the door flew open before Tormenos' eyes. Not with speed or with violence, but with unhurried inevitability. Where the sun had once shone brightly, now came a dark and obscuring gray haze that choked out all light and hope.
Silently, the figure seemed to
float forward into the sitting room where the Theodoroi Patriarch now drank his tea. Taking no steps, but moving inexorably forward as the chill of the grave seemed to wash over him. The sound of a bell tolled, ringing in Tormenos' ears. A sound heralding that the time had come.
"
Tormenos Theodoros." The silver-armored figure intoned, their voice reverberating ominously, a clawed limb leveling upward to point it's bladed tip at him, "
Your Angel of Death Awaits."
It was like something out of a play, or a sick comedy. Standing in his living room, beneath the gaze of his ancestors, Tormenos was being threatened with death by a ghost of some import, clad in silverine and brandishing a claw for a hand. With an upraised eyebrow, Tormenos sipped slowly on piping hot tea, sighed as he swallowed and savoured its aftertaste, and set the cup lightly down on a table of frosted glass. "I always knew this day would come," the old man sighed. "Well, get it over with, I'm sure you have others to haunt."
They looked at one another, locked at an impasse. Though Tormenos found himself incapable of fusing a Core, he still stood as an old Foundation Building expert, once a Centurion feared for the barbs of his tongue and the burning steel of his fists, though he had not been at war in a long time. The old man craned his head, watching the spectre closely. "Well? What are you waiting for? My sins? My final testament? Should I invite my heirs back and divvy up the estate first?"
"Nothing so dramatic." The figure intoned, "I have already taken the liberty of getting your affairs in order." A character etched into the underside of the outstretched claw glowed, producing a thick vellum scroll. With another ominous ringing of a bell, the mysterious figure glided forward once more, offering the document for Tormenos to take.
"Take your time," The metallic voice intoned patiently.
The old man received the sheet carefully but roughly, taking care not to crumple the papyrus, and the moment he saw what was actually written his eyes bulged. In his hands was a contract, written in triplicate and stamped with the sigil of the Clan. Official business, this was, with one copy destined for the archives at the Dawn Fortress.
And actually
written on the contract was his entire household, grandson and granddaughter included, in exchange for… Actually, that was quite a substantial sum of
stavraton. He could invest it, refurbish the household, and urge back distant relatives into the fold. Such a trade might even be worth considering,
were it not for his grandchildren's names on the docket.
"I don't know which pit of Hell you came out of, ghost, but there is no way I'm going to agree to this!" Tormenos dearly,
dearly wanted to ball the documents up into a ball and burn them to cinders, but with the seal of the Clan on them to do so would actually incur a fairly hefty fine, so instead he put them down on the table instead. "This is tantamount to extortion! Daylight robbery! There isn't a power in this Sea that could make me sign away this family!"
"Isn't there?" The phantasm intoned calmly, "Perhaps an ancient force, beyond the reckoning of you and your blood?" Another toll of the bell rang out, the fog thickening as a singular light beneath the hood began brightening ominously, "Someone who…"
The other armored limb raised up, the hand awkwardly grasping for the gray hood of the figure before lifting it back to reveal platinum hair and silver skin. An eyebrow arched in a yet unspoken question.
"You've never won against in your entire life,
little Tormenos?" Aretaphila Myia asked, staring calmly at the Theodoroi Patriarch.
Almost immediately, bitterness gave way not to spite, but to terror unending. The memory of an immortal is long indeed, and those made in formative years can never truly be scrubbed away, even by the rigours of time. And unfortunately, Tormenos Theodoros had a particularly sharp memory, one that made him the envy of his peers when it came to memorising treatises and orders.
A fear, buried for nigh-on two hundred years, resurfaced as if it had never been forgotten. "Y-You… You! W-What do you want from me, y-you monster?!"
"Monster?" The soothing, bell-like voice of the Silver King rang out, an unseen fist bunching the cloth of the robe before casting it off theatrically, "What a rude thing to call a childhood friend, Little Tormenos." Beneath the layers of cloth were a cunning mechanism. A small, raised platform that had a great tread beneath it for locomotion, which further had two limbs connected to manipulators which leveraged the prosthetic limbs. Even now, heavy mist poured out from vents lined along the chassis, the arrays lining the construction seemingly powered by the Single Pillar Cultivators own Qi.
Effortlessly, Aretaphila Myia hopped off to stand before the Theodoroi Patriarch. Her diminutive height doing little to stop her from looming over the far taller individual.
"Just sign the paperwork, and it will all be over." A small, silver hand patted the Peak Expert consolingly, "It's all already taken care of, don't you worry about a thing." Silver skin stretched in a kind, matronly smile.
Trembling, his lips drawn into a long thin line, Tormenos sucked air between his teeth as he turned to Aretaphilla. "N-No… I can't! I won't! I will not surrender this family to you! You can defile me, Aretaphilla Myia, but you will not have my grandchildren!"
There was a knock on the door. Two pairs of eyes turned around, and saw a man with red and silver hair standing there, a sword slung from his waist as he hefted a large snake coiled around his torso. Blinking rapidly, Tormenos begged for his son in law to save him.
"...Right," the crippled father of two sighed, before turning right on his heels. "If you need me, I'll be draining this snake of its blood in the servant kitchen."
"SHU ENYA YOU INSOLENT FOOL, I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW!"
Such words fell on deaf ears as Tormenos' only hope of relief left the same way he came, and he was once again left in the tender mercies of the Silver King herself.
Single eye blinking in surprise, Aretaphila looked away from her intended victim as a hiss of static filled the air. The Silver King fished around in her pockets before withdrawing a faintly glowing token. She turns an apologetic look towards Tormenos before bringing the inscribed jade to her ear.
"Report, Pilum."
"
Ah, Legatus! Apologies, but it looks like one of the targets extended family members is en route to return ahead of schedule!"
The Myia Expert sighed in apparent exasperation, "Thank you for the warning, Li Wei."
Sound crackles from the inscribed token before it shatters within the woman's silver grip.
"...Where were we-Right," Aretaphila muttered to herself before turning her baleful gaze once more upon Tormenos, "You can't sign over both your grandchildren to me." A hand pat the Theodoroi's knee consolingly, "I
respect that, Little Tormenos." With her other hand, the Silver King gestures towards the machine behind her, which promptly places another roll of Papyrus within her grasp, "That's why I've prepared a compromise."
The unbroken wax seal is placed in the taller cultivators lap, "Give me your granddaughter, and you can keep everything else. I have need of her services in my revival of the 501st Legion, so that part is non-negotiable, but I'll even make it worth your while!"
"I'll never sign your - wait, that's it?" Tormenos blinked, his fear momentarily forgotten. "You broke into my house, scared me half to death, and tried to fleece me for all I owned and loved… All just so you could scout my granddaughter for your Legion?" He blinked again, twice this time. "Wait,
when did you make Legatus?
How did
you make Legatus?"
The Silver King grinned, a frighteningly predatory thing. "Now now
now, Little Tormenos. Are you trying to imply that your granddaughter
isn't worth going to such ends to protect?" A silver head shakes in affected sadness, "Perhaps it would be more fair if I tried to recruit
both of your grandchildren?" Aretaphila grasped her chin in faux-contemplation - notably ignoring the second question he had asked, "I'm sure that the Hero of Thousand Song and member of the Indomitable Thirteen might be able to receive special dispensation for recruiting a promising young
Mechanikos for her Legion. Don't you?"
"N-No, mercy." The old man begged, white as a sheet. "Please continue."
Two small hands clap together with a chiming sound. "Great! Now, this may surprise you but it turns out that by total coincidence it turns out your darling little genius owes her success to my humble self, Tormenos'er." The old man's breath hitches. One palm presses against her flat chest. "By the hand of the Imperator, I had been the one to provide young Katha with a ticket into the Yuan Man-As-Mountain Array, and the Clan's collective efforts at Thousand Song City enabled a breakthrough so that the Noble Demon Alliance could not put her at further risk as their siege was broken."
Aretaphila locked her cyclopean gaze with the taller cultivator, "So in acknowledgement of that debt, I wish to have her serve as a senior officer within the Legion I have graciously negotiated with the Grand Elder for." The Single Pillar within her cultivation base rotated, churning the inner sea of her qi, releasing a mild pressure on the other Expert.
"Surely you can see that nothing but benefits exist for you here, should you be willing to take them."
Before such pressure, Tormenos could do little but nod. Ancestors preserve him, he might even delude himself into agreeing that this was to the mutual benefit of all parties involved, little Katha.
Bless her, the poor girl couldn't possibly know what manner of snake was coming to claim her, fangs and all.
----
Shu Enya heard his father in law scream as he sharpened a ritual knife against a whetstone. It was a real scream too, the high and powerful kind one could only gather from their lungs when they were feeling
real terror. He shook his head, closed his senses, and returned to the whetstone.
"Riala, your father is such a glass cannon, just like you," he murmured and sighed. Then, Shu looked up. "Should I ever let him live it down?"
The wind slammed the door shut behind him abruptly and loudly. He promptly put his nose back to the grindstone and continued his work.
"...Duly noted, dear."
----
Katha sighed as she beheld the gates of her home once more. Years spent away from home, fighting on the outskirts of the Thousand Song Siege and ensuring that the evacuation proceeded as smoothly as possible took its toll even on the most spirited of Legionnaires, and she was definitely not a spirited Legionnaire. In fact she felt more like a pack mule than a
Principales half the time, torn between patrols, training, and those
damn lessons. Katha could probably count the number of hours of sleep she actually got on
one hand.
Granted that was probably because her vision got blurry enough at times that one hand looked like one hundred after a while, but that really should be indicative of just what kind of fresh hell Yangchen put her through. Even if it did all pay off in the end; blooded by a campaign and proven in the crucible of war, she had graduated from the post of 'Principales', and with the exigencies of war in mind was likely to earn a Centurion's billet.
"In fact, don't be surprised if you have a line of Legates waiting in front of your house by the time you get back!" The old bird laughed as she saw Katha off; Centurion Yangchen had volunteered to stay behind and 'mind the camp' while the Legions were being drawn back, to be the literal last one out. Katha shuddered as she recalled those words. Almost a decade of learning to be a Centurion has taught her that being Centurion might actually be the most thankless job in the Legion.
Things were gruelling enough that, Imperator above, she might actually be looking forward to being surrounded by sand again.
...Actually, nevermind, she was already getting abrasions and heat rash. The desert still sucks. She missed the plains already, even if they are drowning with Blood Path cannibals and other assorted psychopaths.
Eurgh.
Standing at the iron gates, however, Katha saw that the main door was already open. That was strange; the doors were usually closed. She could still remember grandfather nagging her about leaving it open when she and Rathos came back in after a day of play; she could even feel the cane lines on her wrist right now, though the cane would probably break if it hit her at this point. No one else should be home, so… Why did grandpa leave the door open?
The other thing, then, was when her father came out of the servant dorms - which was funny in its own way considering they didn't
have servants - and, spotting her immediately, walked right up to the gate until he could wrap his hands around the bars. Shu Enya looked a lot better compared to the last time she'd seen him; in fact, her senses told her that…
"Ah, father. Good afternoon." Katha nodded furtively, bowing her head and averting her eyes. "I'm… I'm home."
"So you are," he replied, quietly proud of his little Legionnaire. "Rathos is out somewhere tending to a Fort Array but he should be back in a week or so. You've done well, I heard."
"...Yeah, I guess I did. You, ah, look better. Did you repair your meridians?"
"One or two of them," Shu replied with a nod. "With you and your brother doing so well, I decided dying at home wasn't a good look after all. Might even consider attempting Expert in thirty or forty years."
Katha nodded and smiled momentarily at that. It would be nice to have her father around just a bit longer. But the two of them got the small talk out of the way quickly, even though it was tradition on how to receive a daughter or son from war. There was something far more important at stake. "So, ah… Who's visiting grandfather, father?"
"A friend of your grandfather's, another Expert. You should go in and introduce yourself," Enya said, though his tone made it clear that he would prefer she do anything but. "Be careful when you do, though. Your grandfather screamed earlier."
This made Katha's eyes widen sharply. "W-Wait, scream? Grandfather screamed? You mean, like, out loud?"
"He screamed like Rathos, Katha."
"Like a
girl?"
Enya's expression grew pained. "Katha, your brother does not scream like a girl, so stop saying he does. But yes, your grandfather made that kind of noise. Whoever he's entertaining is not someone to be trifled with. Be on your guard; you're not off the battlefield yet."
"Alright, thanks father." He was not offering to join her, which meant that she was on her own. That was fair; this is not his fight. Then, Katha clenched her jaw and reached in her travelling satchel, pulling out a shattered sword hilt. "Also… I broke it. Sorry."
"I heard the story already, Katha," Shu Enya replied. Then he reached through the bars and patted her on the head. "You did well fighting an Expert, and you did even better by not getting hurt while doing it. Now go save your grandfather from another, more frightening Expert."
"With your help?" Katha asked hopefully. Her father smiled wider, then returned to the servant quarters without another word. Drat. She still had one chance, though. Flee, go find a room in some nearby inn, maybe sound out Rathos or his girlfriend, and whatever horrible terrifying god-beast that had her ornery grandfather spooked will be gone before she got back.
But that would mean never acknowledging that Rathos does, in fact, scream like a terrified baby rattlesnake. So honour demanded she do the other thing, which promised certain death.
Bravely, foolishly, she pushed open the gates to her home and strode boldly through the front door.
Well, what kind of fresh nightmare was she about to walk into?
----
The atmosphere within Katha's childhood home was as still as a grave. A faint, cloying mist clung to the floor despite the sun's blazing heat. Drowned in shadow, an almost clammy chill assaulted the
Principales as she entered the familiar place, now warped into uncanny strangeness.
As the pale granddaughter of Tormenos entered the building, the formerly opened door swung closed with an ominous creaking, plunging the domicile into darkness. As her eyes adjusted to the shadow, a familiar silhouette resolved itself in her vision - that of her family's patriarch.
Now hunched over a glass table, head staring blankly at a sheet of papyrus that faintly radiated Qi to her senses.
She stepped forward, her senses alert with her father's warning in mind. If there was something capable of reducing her stern grandfather to
this, then…
A floorboard creaked beneath Katha's foot, drawing her attention all to a single point.
There is a muffled
boom as a closet door slams open, a diminutive, yet imposing cloaked figure revealing itself as fog billowed out from around it.
"Hello, Junior." A familiar voice emanates from it, reminding Katha of a moment nearly twenty years past.
"I've come to collect on that favor you owe me."
For a moment, Katha wondered just who this strange figure was, even as she was struck with an ineffable sense of familiarity. They met twenty years ago, that was certain, but Katha met a
lot of people twenty years ago; that was when her Path to Immortality even began. She put her mind to work, trying to link every detail she could. The cloak was familiar, the height was
vaguely familiar, the fog was new, but the way she said Junior was--
"Holy shit you're the Silver Senior," Katha gasped. "I knew it. I knew you were testing me. You're a Centurion after all - wait, no, a Legatus! Definitely a Legatus!"
"She's Aretaphilla Myia," Tormenos said bitterly by his place at the table, scowling at the contract. "Head of the Myia Family and our Clan's second Single Pillar King. Imperator have mercy on us all…"
Katha blanched. Aretaphilla Myia?
The Aretaphilla Myia? The one from the
Miracle at Pleuron? The same person who single handedly held the Thousand Song Siege? "T-The Aretaphilla Myia? The Thousand Songstress?" Her gaze shifted back to the Silver King. "You gave me the Yuan token? You, of all people, gave it to
me of all people?!"
"Hmph," Aretaphila exhaled smugly, before tearing off her disguising cloak flamboyantly once again, "The one and only!" Arms crossed over her chest, the Myia tilted her nose up and looked up at the Junior who she had drunkenly assisted two decades prior.
"Why are you surprised, Junior? Of
course I knew you would use my gift to the utmost!"
"She definitely did not, it just
happened to work out," the old man groused.
A blazing electric eye quickly glanced at Tormenos,
daring him to contradict her again before turning back to the Theodoros scion, "I sensed your potential from the moment we met and I've looked into your service record since. Twelfth Heavenstage in a decade! Another decade of highly meritorious service at One-River, One-Town Pass! Killing a Foundation Establishment Blood Path in your very first battle!"
A swift ringing sound filled the air as she laughed, "
I didn't even manage to kill the first Foundation Establishment bandit I encountered!" Almost nostalgic memories of the deep places of the desert, and a nearly fatal wound in the dark flit past her mind before returning to the present, "So I'd like to formally extend an invitation for you to join my 501st Legion!"
Silver cheeks were spread in a cherubic smile, all kindness and cheer and invitation, but the light within the building was dim. And Foundation Establishment move and think so very much more quickly than Qi Condensation. A single glance towards the girls grandfather reminds him to hold to his end of the deal.
"In recognition of your potential, I'm more than willing to sign you on as a proper
Centurion from the start. And in recognition of my history with Little Tormenos, inducting you into my senior staff with appropriate pay is only natural." A silver hand raises to catch Katha's attention, fingers rubbing together to make very clear she could pay Katha well.
"How do you feel about meeting your future colleagues?" The shorter woman says conversationally, veering the discussion away from whether or not Katha would refuse to join.
Katha blinked. Then blinked again. Then, a noise not unlike a kettle boiling over steamed out between tightly drawn lips. This, ah, happened basically exactly like Yangchen said it would. Literally the moment she got back, someone was offering her a Centurion's billet.
"Ah… Do I
have to be Centurion?" Katha shrugged numbly; the weight on her shoulders reminded her that she was actually, in fact, still in armour. Her helmet was even still dangling from her travelling satchel on her hip. "I mean… Do I get to choose?" Probably not, but it was worth asking.
"I'm very sorry," Aretaphila said consolingly, "You see, I know better than most how much it costs for us to fuel cultivation through the Olympian Keystones." A hand passed over herself, "And a regular
Principales would never be able to afford the pace which you'd burn through resources." Her one eye winked, "But don't worry! You being a Centurion will be in name only! You won't even have to worry about any subordinates off the bat while you acclimate to your role, and I doubt you won't reach Expert level soon enough." Two hands place themselves on diminutive hips, and the Silver King lets out a cheerful laugh once again.
"So yes, you get to choose. But I'm afraid that I wouldn't be able to justify the cultivation budget you deserve unless you
are a Centurion, Junior." Aretaphila holds her hands up, imitating the act of balancing a scale, "And I wouldn't want to do anything less than help you reach your full potential."
Ah, of course. That was the downside of rising so quickly, if it could even be called a downside at all; Katha had little idea as to the
cost of maintaining her cultivation now, let alone advancing it. And even now, she was torn between preparing to face the lightning, or even taking the fourth Olympian Keystone and walking… Well, walking Aretaphilla Myia's path.
Sighing, Katha nodded. "Well, I didn't expect to have much of a choice either. Sure, I'll be your Centurion." Glancing at her grandfather, she noticed that his expression had become more resigned. "So… Who else have you scouted for the 501st?"
"Only the best," Aretaphila said, her lips twitching ever so slightly. Threatening to bloom into a full blown smirk as the Theodoros household became filled with what could only be described as white noise of unintelligible chanting.
The Theodoroi Patriarch looked up from his stupor, looking at the Silver King with a mix of amazement and disbelief. "The Old Tongue…?"
The Silver King glared at Tormenos once again. "Here," she said, before withdrawing from a storage ring a sheet of papyrus. "Once you confirm the transfer, we can get started."
With a grunt, Tormenos raised his hand over the parchment, ready to stamp it with the family's seal. For a moment he hesitated, his expression tense. But then he sighed, and the seal fell, the triple-brand of the Theodoroi searing into the contract and concluding the negotiations. Katha followed quickly, signing her own name as she confirmed her own acknowledgement.
And just like that, her fate was sealed. She would be Centurion of a new Legion under a hero of the Clan, likely destined for great battles and epic conflicts. It promised to be a greater struggle than her skirmishes at One-Boat, One-River Pass. And yet... Katha couldn't help but feel a little excited.
This would be how she would prove herself. This is how she would temper the Dao and answer the question of Judgement.
This would be how she would face the Heavens and denounce their excesses, in the pursuit of a fair world.
----
It was near the end of the day that the carriage the two were riding arrived at the outskirts of Waycastle Myia.
A newly raised barracks, bronze gleaming brightly with the reflected light of the setting sun. Spacious by the standards that Katha was likely familiar with (Which was to say, not at all). Several laborers even took the time to wave at Aretaphila, Qi Condensation Juniors who were employed by the Myia to maintain and build infrastructure to keep the Waycastle running. Freshly hired by the material wealth brought by the Clan's eastern expansion.
"It's freshly renovated, in honor of my return from Thousand Song." The
de facto Matriarch of the Myia declared proudly, still leading the largely oblivious Katha into the building. Aretaphila took a deep breath, her single eye closed, "Love that fresh paint smell." She declared with her voice filled with pride.
The barracks themselves were largely complete, workers still shuffling in and about carrying in furniture and provisions. It was a veritable hive of activity, but mysteriously none of it seemed to be from any Legionnaires. Still, Katha was given no room to consider any such rising doubts before the Silver King dragged her into a larger room in which two more Experts stood idly. Both appearing impatient and ill at ease with one another.
"Right," Aretaphila nodded, "Introductions are in order-" A silver hand gestured towards the first Foundation Establishment Cultivator. Towering over the other three, this man carried an impressive beard, and was well into the upper ranges of Foundation Establishment. Even as the Legatus' introduction began, sky-blue eyes merely turned to regard Katha and her commander as he meticulously groomed his beard with a white-bone comb.
"First, let me introduce one of our Pilus Priori: Lampo Vatatzes!" At the lack of recognition on Kathas features the man's eyes narrowed, lips beginning to open, "This happened a while before your mother was born, but his grandfather used to be the Protastor for the Clan some centuries back!" Aretaphila continued, seemingly obvious to cutting him off, "We were part of the same
Contuburnium way back when, and it's why I recruited him as our Tactical Officer."
The taller figure shot a glare at the Silver King before turning to look once again at Katha, "A pleasure to meet you
Centurion. As the Legatus stated, I am Vatatzes, though my
technical rank is
Primi Ordines Immunes."
"That's right," Aretaphila continued cheerfully, "Don't let his huge build fool you! He's basically useless on the front lines save as part of a Formation!"
"Damn you,
Myia…" The larger man muttered balefully at the diminutive Single Pillar King.
"Ah…" Reflexively Katha bowed, bringing her palm and fist together. "A pleasure to meet you, senior."
Vatatzes sniffed, then crossed his arms. "The hell did you do to get wrapped up with her of all people? Your grandfather's scared shitless of the Myia."
"She's the reason I got into the Yuan Contest," the taller redhead replied sheepishly, which Vatatzes responded with a piteous grimace. "I don't see the problem, though?"
"Neither can she, half the time, but that doesn't mean you're not in the shit. Good luck, Theodoros."
Aretaphila clapped her hands together, releasing a calming ringing sound, "Right! And next we have our very own
Auxilia! Let me introduce the other active member of Senior Staff," A free hand gestured to the shorter man, but only slightly. Pale of skin, but blond of hair. Wearing a massive hammer on his back easily, two pale blue eyes stared intently at Katha, evaluating. "This is Li Wei!"
"Charmed," The foreign man drawled, his voice arrogant in an easy way that Vatatzes simply
wasn't, "I am the
Auxilia Centurio Princeps as you desert devils like to refer to the position," A hand gestured towards his forehead, where a tiny three-pointed star was tattooed into the center of it, "Though more importantly,
I am a Three-Star Blacksmith of the Sorrowful Blacksmiths, invited along by your Legatus in exchange for…" Two eyes roamed hungrily over Aretaphila's diminutive form, eliciting confusion from Katha, "Certain benefits of a physical nature, one might say."
"He just wants me for my body." Aretaphila whispers to Katha, giving her a surreptitious wink.
With a flash of movement Vatatzes moved to Katha's side.
"It's best to just get this out of the way immediately," He whispered directly into her ear, "But it's not actually what you think it is." Eyes shift from side to side suspiciously, "Despite all the evidence otherwise. Do you understand?"
Katha looked up at the
Ordines Immunes with a start, her hands already hugged around herself. "Wuh? Oh, r-right… I knew that…"
"Good," Vatatzes nodded, clearly not believing her, "If you'll excuse me then." Just as swiftly, he retreated back to standing side by side with Wei.
"Now now,
Lampo no creeping on the poor girl, she's only a few decades old!" Aretaphila giggled.
"I'm thirty six…"
"Practically a baby then," The Silver King tutted, "Would you get with someone older than your grandfather and myself, truly?" Aretaphila gestured towards the other man, "That beard of his predates your family by three generations!"
"...Only three?" Katha shook her head quickly. "T-That wasn't on the table to begin with! What even is this?!"
"An introduction, my dear."
She turned sharply to the
Auxilia, lip pointedly not trembling. "...W-Well, I wouldn't! It's too soon!"
The Legatus merely cackled, while Vatatzes shook his head sadly. The Blacksmith, bemused, kept an eye on the young Centurion.
"Winter and Summer Romance aside, I hope you two can keep things professional for now." Aretaphila finally said after calming down, "But these are your two fellow senior staff for the moment." The Silver King paused, "Now I know you have some questions-" Aretaphila paused, as if waiting for Katha to speak up before abruptly bulldozing along, "But the most important one is likely "How did you get clearance to pay me with an Expert's Salary, Legatus?" And while the obvious answer is that I am simply amazing," Vatatzes snorted, "The longer answer is that
because I am amazing, I found a way to have you declared as an Expert despite not actually being one."
With a slight bow, the
Auxilia stepped forward, holding up a freshly polished bronze helm, complete even with horse-hair sprouting from above in a distinctive mohawk. Emblazoned on the side, cast in dark iron were the numerals
XXI.
"Tell me, Theodoros," Aretaphila said with her eye on the piece of equipment, "Have you heard the legend of
Centurion XXI?"
The Centurion reached out to touch the helm, fingers tracing the contours of its nose guard. Centurion XXI… She had heard nothing about this story, from the old bird or any of the other old timers. This was something new, or… Well, let it not be said that Katha lacked pattern recognition. "Is it another of your introductions, Legatus?"
"Of a sort," Said Legatus replied with a smirk, "Centurion XXI is a designation for a Legendary Expert of the times. Never someone specific, but rather a pseudonym used by exemplars of the Clan during times of great success, dating back to the Clan's own origins in the Third Sea. At times it was said to be multiple Experts acting in concert, sometimes it was given to a great hero of the clan before they nobly sacrificed themselves, and other times it was the name of individuals who would later go on to become venerated Elders of the Clan under their own true identities." Aretaphila motioned towards the helmet, "That mantle has been left abandoned for centuries before now, much like the
Aquila of a lost Legion, the original Centurion XXI helmet has been lost since long before I was born."
Li Wei cleared his throat, "Though don't let the newness fool you,
Centurion. My work would hardly
lose to the craft worked by your Ancestors, and this helmet will not merely protect your fragile brain-meats but also your
identity, allowing you to act without fear of censure or even identification."
"That is," Vatatzes added, resigned, "Until you break through to Foundation Establishment, and such games are no longer necessary to provide you your due stipend."
"Now then," Aretaphila spoke up, "For my first order to you, Katha Theodoro: You are to take up the mantle of Centurion XXI and do it justice, in a way that would make your ancestors proud."
The young Cultivator blinked as she looked into the eye sockets of the bronzed helmet, polished to a mirror shine in ways that
dared one to give it their fullest attention. The fullness of the responsibility was impossibly weighty, precisely the thing she was
not looking forward to in taking the mantle of Centurion. She was simply too young, too green, and too new to the matters of chasing Immortality.
Just twenty years ago she was still trying to figure out where her Meridians actually
were, because she simply could not feel them. Just ten years ago she was still getting used to the idea that maybe,
just maybe, she could not afford to assume she was slower and weaker than everyone on her level because that just made her sloppy in a world where sloppy meant dead.
But running away was beneath her at this point. Opportunity had fallen into her lap and what was once a hopeless dream was now in her grasp. If she was not ready to carry the hopes of a generation, how dare she have the temerity to judge the Heavens? So instead, Katha donned the helmet of Centurion XXI and turned to face her Legatus, the Silver King of Thousand Song City. "I'm not sure about making them proud. But I'll show them
something. By your leave, Legatus."
"A pleasure to have you,
Pilus Theodoros." Aretaphila said with a smirk, "Once more, I welcome you to the
DI Legio!"
With this declaration, a great clamor filled the barracks. The ringing of many bells suffused the bodies of those who could hear, and waves of Qi and strength entered Katha's body, filling her with strength approaching the peak of the 13th Heavenstage. Something even headier than she had grasped upon leaving the Yuan Man-As-Mountain Array, a strength that was far beyond the limits she had felt at One-Boat, One River Pass.
After a few moments the Song died down, and the additional strength left Katha feeling refreshed.
"Now then my
Primus Pilus," The Legatus rubbed her hands together eagerly, "For our first order of business!"
"Uh, before that!" Katha pulled the helmet off her head and ran a hand through her hair, untangling the knots that had already formed from just literally putting it on for a moment. "I know I need to do the whole Legendary Centurion thing when we are out on campaign or in battle, but do I need to keep up the act when I'm doing regular work? It was enough of a pain in the ass counting pay and writing treatises in half-plate, so I really don't think I should be doing that with this helmet on too!"
"Are you fucking serious," murmured Vatatvzes as he ran a palm down his face.
"You sure she's a Golden Devil?" Li Wei asked with an eyebrow raised. "Because she whines a lot for someone who should have near-infinite stamina."
"No, this is normal. We just usually beat the whining out of them by the time they turn fifty."
"I'm not whining!" Katha whined.
"We will begin recruiting to fill the spots of the
other two
Primus Pilus and from there begin filling out the ranks of our first five Centuries!" Aretaphila continued, ignoring the byplay for the moment of her dramatic declaration.
Hearing that, Katha broke from her sulking and turned to her Legate. "Oh, well, if you're looking for a potential Centurion, I actually know someone who might make the grade, I think. It was another Principales from my Legion at One-Boat, One-River Pass. Different Century, but I heard he broke through to Expert recently. His name's Aegus Sideros, if you've heard of him."
"Interesting,
Pilus." The Silver King nodded, before walking towards a freshly installed Legion Contribution Board terminal, "Aegus Sideros, Sideros, Sideros…" She muttered to herself, "Hooo! This one is a
very affordable pickup XXI!" Aretaphila nodded before inputting several commands in, "And with that, we've got Sideros lined up to become our fourth Pilus. For now we'll adjourn and meet back here at 0700 in order to meet the new recruit and induct him personally into the DI! Dismissed!"
"Ma'am!" The two taller men salute, before leaving the room to tend to their own projects. Katha did the same, reforged helmet of the Twenty-First Centurion under her armpit as she did so, before her thoughts caught up with her brain and a very,
very important factoid lodged itself firmly in her thoughts.
"Wait, Legatus." Aretaphilla, halfway turned around, glanced back at her taller Centurion. "I missed something earlier, so forgive me if I'm repeating something, but… Is the 501st Legion only four people right now?"
The Silver King nodded firmly. "Yes, for the moment. But this is only the start,
Pilus."
"...You scared my grandfather half to death to recruit me into an empty Legion."
Aretaphila stilled, now turning around fully to look her newest subordinate in the eye. "I'm sorry?" The ringing returned, now, once more joined by the ominous buzzing and susurrus of the Old Tongue, "
Only half way to death?" The Silver King's head shook in confusion, "Fool girl, I am not so rusty as to leave a job half done. Your dear grandfather was nearly at death's door by the time I was through with him." She snorted, turning away from Katha to begin walking away.
It was difficult to resist the urge to cover her face. "Legatus, did I just get suckered into joining an empty Legion?"
The tension that had filled her diminutive frame melted away as Aretaphilla laughed. "With real pay,
Pilus!"
Katha held up one finger. Then, she lowered it and nodded sharply. "Y'know what, Legatus? That's fair. I'll see you tomorrow."
----
It's bright and early the next day as the fully assembled 501st Legion assemble at their barracks. Thankfully, the briefing had been simplicity itself:
"Get in the carriage!"
The Legatus had commanded, and what a carriage it was: Sized and balanced to carry at least ten baseline humanoid Golden Devils easily, it was drawn by a quartet of Bronze Aurochs in the middle stages of Foundation Establishment explicitly for this task. The carriage itself was a slab of carved black granite, lined with weight-lowering and durability increasing Array Script. Emblazoned on the sides were an extremely tacky
DI in bronzed lettering, standing out with their own freshness.
It was more than a little unnerving to have one's carriage be drawn by beasts who were technically seniors to Katha in the Cultivation Arts, but that was akin to a light unnerving buzz as compared to the searing, blinding nightmare of wasted
stavraton and awful taste that was the bronze lettering on the side. It was one thing to be part of the 501st Legion; it was another thing to have to ride around with a giant bronze 'D' on the side of the Legatus' personal transport.
"Low profile today, Legatus?" Asked Li Wei in tones dryer than the desert as he got in, which was different from the usual dripping sarcasm because there was actually a note of sincerity in his voice. "What else do you have planned? Giant silver bell on the top that you can ring to broadcast our approach to all who would bask in the chimes of the Silver Bell King?"
That drew Legatus Aretaphilla Myia's attention, and her head turned slowly and revealed a rictus grin. "That sounds like a
great idea,
Principes! Tell you what, next time we have some lax in the budget, we'll do just that!"
Katha paled, and even Vatatzves had to suppress a shudder that shook him down to the wrists. Li Wei, who seemed verifiably dead inside, did not so much as crack a smile or beg for the sweet release of death. "If you're willing to afford my rates I'll make the damn bell myself."
"Sounds like a deal, Li Wei~"
"What do we do," Katha whispered to her snow-bearded senior. "There's no way I'm getting caught dead riding in this carriage as is; if there's a bell on top I might just bleed to death on the Dawn Fortress and get it over with!" For good measure she wore her Centurion's Helmet, its charms now masking her identity. "I mean seriously, it's just so
weird!"
Lampo Vatatzves chortled. "There is nothing to be done, kid. Should've read the contract before you signed."
"It was a lot of contribution points, though…" Katha murmured as the two of them slid into the carriage.
Vatatzves nodded. "That's how they get you. Centurion pay isn't actually that high, by the way."
"Really? Because the number I got quoted was actually really generous!"
The older Expert scoffed. "Is it? Because it only ever seems like a lot."
----
"What the actual hell."
"Right?!"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lampo Vatatzves wondered if it was too late to request a transfer back to the Dawn Fortress. Opposite the two of them, Aretaphilla Myia chuckled.
"Yes, by the way," the Silver Bell said, her teeth shimmering as a ray of light past the curtains caught them. "But if you're good, I might consider a bonus."
"...Good at my job, or obedient to your whims?" Vatatzves asked.
Aretaphilla's smile grew wider. "Surprise me,
Primi Ordines Immunes."
----
The trip itself was uneventful: As Katha had reported, Sideros had been returned from the frontlines upon his ascendence into Foundation Establishment, and was waiting in Waycastle Thrake for redeployment orders.
Orders which Aretaphila had just filed the previous day, at a premium cost in Legion points.
"So," Li Wei spoke up as they entered the Waycastle, "What
exactly did you hear about the Centurion, Theodoros? I'm afraid he wasn't so exceptional that rumors of him reached our ears in Thousand Song City." Pale blue eyes twitched towards Katha, "Not like
you, at least."
"Well…" Hemming, still wearing her helmet, Katha pinched her chin and let her gaze trail off into the distance. "I wasn't there when it happened, so I couldn't tell you the details either… But from what I heard, during one of the patrols along One-Boat, One-River Pass, he and his
Conterbernum were caught in an ambush along a pass, with the mountains along one side and the river along the other. Behind him were five hundred refugees and in front of him were two hundred Blood Path."
"And he had just ten guys with him?" Li Wei asked, and Katha nodded. "Well, he obviously got out, so how'd he do it? Let me guess, he held the pass until reinforcements showed up and the cannibal bastards fled?"
"Ah, no. They ceded the pass almost immediately and spent the season leading his hunters along merry hell through the foothills of Turtlebone Mountain while he ordered his wounded Legionnaires to lead the refugees out in small groups and keep the rest alive and hidden. He almost died to a Core Formation Lion, too, if not for the Legatus who showed up in the nick of time to save him. Apparently the Legionnaire managed to pass word up the chain."
Looking up at Waycastle Thrake, Katha wondered if this was one of the territories that the Theodoroi once administered. Probably not, she never paid attention in those histories but from what she knew they controlled lands closer to Colossus Foot Pass. "Anyways, they only
almost immediately ceded the pass. They held it for two days, breaking at dawn on the second day, but in that one day his Bronze Hoplite killed twenty Blood Path and crippled thirty-odd of them, which held them back until they finally bulled through on sheer numbers."
The Sorrowful Blacksmith whistled, though he was not overly impressed either, though Katha wasn't either. She'd grown up on stories of what a true Hoplite Formation was capable of, after all, and holding barely two days against ten times your number in enemies on extremely favourable terrain was not something for the annals of the clan. It was
impressive, but not
that impressive. Except for the fact that the ones who did it were all in Qi Condensation, that is. "That's not bad, not bad at all. Just goes to show what fancy bullshit your Clan Formations are."
Katha shrugged and waggled her hands. "I mean, yes and no? I'm pretty sure the two hundred he fought weren't a single group, and the number might have been inflated anyways. But from what I can tell, he spent most of his time punching down against Cultivators at least three small realms lower. Things got worse once they ran into actual peers, and when their Experts ran down the Hoplite that's when they broke for real. But saving five hundred people and making it out with his entire unit is pretty good, don't you think?"
"It's fine enough," Aretaphila drawled, "Though I guess I'm not surprised you'd look for stamina in a potential partner,
XXI." A tinged blue eye turned to look at Katha, "Holding out for days on end? Multiple...sessions without becoming exhausted? Yes, he's certainly someone worth asking to be the tip of the spear."
Katha sputtered and was overcome by a coughing fit so strong she nearly fumbled her canteen out of her hands instead of into them. Vatatzes looked at his diminutive superior in abject disgust, "You're a few centuries too old to be speaking like an Aspirant freshly awakened,
Legatus,"
"What's wrong with making a few jokes?" The Silver King harrumphed, "We're all adults here."
"
Centurion XXI most certainly
isn't."
"Hear that, Centurion?" Aretaphila said, staring challengingly at her
Primi Ordines Immunes, "Your fellow officer thinks that you're a child."
Still drinking furiously the desert nectar that was water, Katha had little response besides an extended finger for her Legatus. A moment's consideration, and then that finger swept over to the
Primi Ordines Immunes as well.
Aretaphila nodded, satisfied with that response before turning her gaze back towards the Waycastle itself, it's environment passing them by. "It's convenient isn't it, that even here so close to the border the citizens make way for traffic."
The last time the Silver King had been in Thrake had, unsurprisingly, been the most recent trials. Memories of fighting off Trial Hunters, all by her lonesome. Desperate attempts to evacuate the city even as it had fallen. The Fifth Sea citizens always seemingly on the hunt for her. Aware of her. Where before her Song had been a rallying point, a sign of strength and unity for the Legionnares...It had swiftly become call for death. Something familiar. And so once again, she had left on her own to draw away a stronger foe that had only ever been interested in her.
An electric blue eye gazed at her changed physique. Not even a slight tremble. It was the nature of the world to be cruel. To be unfair. But Aretaphila had struggled against it. Had saved lives, even if it had been a near thing. The sacrifice of her eye to shatter three dozen tokens in exchange for however many hundreds of lives would have been worthwhile.
"The place has rebuilt quickly, hasn't it?" The Myia mused aloud.
"Apparently, from what I heard," Katha said. Anything to move on from that topic, she thought, too caught up in her own thoughts to catch the sudden melancholy that had taken her Legatus. "Well, I haven't seen Aegus in a while - honestly I didn't see him that much at the Great Battlefield either - but if I were a muscle-headed idiot with more muscles than brains, where would I be…"
"You're describing everyone in your Legions," scoffed Li Wei. "By your logic, he could be everywhere."
"Fair, but Aegus is dumb by our standards, so you have to lower your standards even more. Let me try to kill some braincells--"
"Don't bother," said Lampo Vatatzves. He pointed to the distance, at one of the mustering grounds. The one with all the Legionnaires on the grass, either face-down or sitting and awaiting their turn on the wrestling mats. And the on-going match with the Expert fighting ten juniors at a time, barehanded, bare chested, muscles rippling and glistening with sweat.
Katha's hands were already covering the visor slits in her helmet.
"Hmm, I owe you an apology Centurion," Li Wei observed. "I
did have to lower my standards even more.
Significantly more." With a mix of consolation and appreciation, he clapped the Iron Devil on the back. "There there, Centurion. Your brain cells will be honoured, probably by being melted down into brain food for the next generation. Think of it as a noble sacrifice."
"Let's just go sucker him into the Legion already," Katha said in a small voice.
----
The carriage came to a halt upon the bare edges of the grassy field, where the fired sandstone ceased.
Aretaphila Myia glanced around, attempting to find some
sign of a superior officer to greet and avoid offending anyone. But there were none in sight, and as much as the browbeating of the Thedoros family had been over the top, it was an interaction which the Legatus had felt positive of her ability to contain the negative blowback from.
Still, she needed to fill out her Senior Staff. And the
Priori were still two short. At least Aegus had been cheap to get reassigned with Legion Points. She had seen an indication of a number of potential candidates going up in price, and while it was true that there had been a number of new
Centuries being risen since her return from Thousand Song...The trend had still been worrisome.
Especially in the long term. Even if a war had been on the horizon, new and unproven Experts shouldn't be so highly in demand. What had been the cause there?
Aretaphila approached the training ring, beaten down by the thunderous footsteps of scores of Legionnaires refining their Pankration against her intended target. Ten to one, the various Aspirants were an eclectic mix of the fifth through the ninth Heavenstages, each eagerly attempting to take down the gregarious and brutally physical Expert before them.
Dispensing with fists, he seemed to favor broader sweeps of his limbs to cast his victims backward or as a precursor to entangling their own limbs in submission holds or throws. The man was glistening, not in sweat...But as the Silver King approached, her own senses realized he was covered in
oil of all things.
And yet, still, through sheer force of muscle and despite the numerous handicaps the man had piled upon himself, he was utterly
dominating the Legionnaires that surrounded him on all sides as he systematically drove them one by one to yield. Quickly replaced by a new face from the crowd; never exceeding nor going beneath ten in number.
Interesting.
Aretaphila elected to not show off
too soon. With a hum her Qi was cast through the air as a wave, the Mountain Bell Song sinking into the flesh of her Juniors, suddenly empowering them to the absolute limits of Qi Condensation. Time to see what Centurion XXI's recommendation was capable of.
Where before the actions of the
Conteburnium's worth of fighters had been a loose sort of coordination - born of long familiarity and training rather than unity of purpose and intent - as Qi filled their bodies and artificially raised their strength so too did the unique harmony that equalized their strength unite them. The air shifted just as the sparring did; where before stood ten mismatched Legionnaires who fought an Expert as little more than a coordinated mob, now there was a single unified individual in ten bodies, the ideals of the Bronze Hoplite if not the intent.
The next series of blows took Aegus off-guard with the sudden shift, the red-haired Expert's footwork stuttering under the abrupt change in tempo. Equivalent to the Ninth Heavenstage, ten limbs moved to interfere and tie him up, a flurry of blows that wasted no space and filled every gap that he could exploit. A breadth of bodies obscured the Centurion's vision as he simply reacted on instinct, lowered his center of gravity and brought his arms close in preparation for a great sweep of his legs.
His limb lashed out, a cord of bronzed muscle whipping towards the outermost Legionnaire. Aimed at his knee, it would let Aegus hook the back of it with his foot - knocking the Junior off balance and giving him leverage to side step past the obstruction in the second that it had been intended to be effective. It was textbook; when outnumbered against enemies who were each inferior in strength but most of all speed, one had to make that numerical advantage a millstone about their necks, and gravity worked the hardest on those who were not quick enough to keep up.
Impact, warmth radiated. The Centurion's foot caught the back of the knee, yet there was no yielding flesh. Instead, the oil applied to the limb caused the diffusion of force and grip and friction. What would have been a hook instead simply slid apart and contact was immediately broken. For an instant Aegus was off balance, and in that moment the other five Legionnaires dove at him in a coordinated tackle. Five bodies gripping his superior musculature, three fists went for his throat and two bronze-cast feet kicked at his shins, an attempt to turn gravity against him in ways only numbers and leverage could, lifting him into the air in preparation to carry the Foundation Establishment cultivator beyond the bounds of the ring.
In an instant, that singular moment when gravity lost its grip on Aegus Sideros, surprise had become a moment of contemplation. Then, it had become something else.
A feral grin.
Aegus Sideros retracted his extended leg before the momentum became too great and instead
planted it. His grin turned into a mirthful groan of effort as muscles
flexed and with core strength alone the tackle carry was halted. Ten bodies moved to overpower their Senior, locking rippling oiled and glistening muscle into a contest of weight and power, for surely even an Expert could not overcome ten who stood in sight of the Olympian Keystones, but a Foundation Expert is not merely
stronger than Qi Condensation - he is
faster.
Friction, the oil that had once given the ten an advantage, was now his friend. The gripped leg is snatched from the grip of four arms, slammed into the earth and scattering grass and loam. Aegus howled, a sharp wolfish cry, and knocked his head against that of the closest junior.
Contact, impact again. An arm breaks free of six limbs with a pump and flex, before sweeping across a glistening barrel chest, oily fingers tracing corded pectorals, and sending a body through the air into the arms of his brothers, their feet slipping as sudden force and weight throws their center of balance ajar. Aegus sucks in air in a great breath of exertion, his other arm outstretched in a solid bar of muscle and bone.
Then he launches himself, the limb
slamming into the four that had been upon him, knocking them to the ground still carrying their fifth brother like a flower garland.
Silence. Aegus looked skyward, chest heaving, shoulders rippling with exertion, then back at his brothers on the edge of the ring, already pulling themselves back onto their feet, the ground slick with oil.
Then, a barked laugh.
He may not know the cause of this change in the game, but he's aware of it now. With an actual challenge being presented, it was time to finally
exert himself.
Once again the impromptu
Contubernium fell upon Aegus. Strikes into body slams into snaking attempts to grapple and impede his movement flowed endlessly around the Centurion. His Foundation Expert speed was finally forced to be exerted constantly, a true workout at last on the very limit of his newly earned physique. Even as punches still flowed out, about and around, Aegus did not meet them in kind. Instead his movements accelerated, putting to truth the natural gulf between he and his sparring partners. Against ten Cultivators of exceptional martial skill, this would be more than sufficient. The gap between Great Realms simply is not easily crossed.
But these were not merely ten Cultivators. These were Qi Condensation Juniors empowered - even slightly - by the Silver King, Aretaphila Myia. Strikes with the power of the very limits of their realm flew towards Aegus Sideros, rending the very air in their passage. Moving as one mind in many bodies, their forms boxed him into a single space, denying the man his advantages of speed. Glancing blows became fully bodied ones, even as the battle guided itself ever so slowly to the edges of the sparring ring.
The Legatus scoffed, wondering if the demonstration would end here.
A meaty
thwack filled the air; a serious blow had finally landed upon one of the participants. Blood ran down a closed, bronze fist, shimmering and smelling of iron and bronze and scented oils.
Staring in confusion, two of the Qi Condensation Legionnaires were caught off-guard, looked about to their brothers skidding backwards. One who had been injured. Another who had inflicted the injury. The delay was not a fatal one, the arrangement of bodies still moving to hem and harry the Centurion towards their victory condition as one.
The sound of a strike echoed again, hearty and chesty like a gong.
One more Junior bent over and gagged; a fist buried in his guts courtesy of one of his fellows. He was pulled back in, yet the question remained:
How?
The as match continued, the Centurion's eyes took on a savage and joyous gleam. He had not changed his approach at all, previous limitations remained. But where his sweeps and grapples before had been setups for his own debilitating strikes, now Aegus Sideros used his own bulk and speed to obscure his bodies movements, laughter punctuating every flowing strike and snaking fist. Subtly shepherding his sparring partners into position where their strikes would miss him and hit themselves.
It was the third such attempt which finally caused the Legionnares to adapt, insight lighting the path to blocking a misdirected strike, and aborting their own attack to do so. From there the fight shifted once more; the mass of bodies desperately attempting to regain control of the tempo against the superior foe as the Centurion gleefully continued to lord it over them, the struggle of the Golden Devils encapsulated to a single ring filled with sweaty men and oily muscle; the strength of many against the tyranny of one. Gradually and subtly, the ad hoc
Conterbernum reshaped the impromptu cordon, struggling against an Expert on even footing even as Aegus got closer and closer to the edge of the ring.
Until at last, Aegus' unguarded back faced the border of the sparring ground.
And with a knowing smirk he swept out a leg once more, swiftly and with strength enough to flick droplets of oil across the grass.
United in purpose and in struggle, each and all of the Juniors fell for the bait, limbs locked as they attempted to mass tackle their Senior over the edge, a glorious strike that risked everything for everything.
For they lacked eyes, even when united in purpose and action, and the blindness of one would prove the blindness of all. As they stepped forward,
so did Aegus to meet them.
Their bodies fell within the range of his vast arms, eleven men locked together in sweaty embrace, the Centurion's feet now firmly planted on the earth. Ten Qi Condensation Legionnaires had leapt upon the fulcrum that was Aegus Sideros, and so with weight and purpose he acquiesced to the tyranny of gravity, heeded the wisdom of nature,
heaved with a great laugh and tossed them all behind him in a magnificent reverse over head throw.
As one, the ten-strong formation of Legionnaires, fighting with the unity and strength of a Hoplite if not with the true Formation, fell apart like pins, men falling upon one another and sliding onto the ground where their faces met the oil-stained glass.
And alone, standing and triumphant, Aegus Sideros laughed and hollered, pulling each and every one of those juniors to their feet to be met with a slap to the back and a shake of the hand.
"Holy shit." Li Wei muttered.
"That's about right." Aretaphila muttered, ending the Song now that the match was over.
Katha took a breath to calm herself, a hand over her chest as if she could squeeze her heart and force it to stop beating so quickly. Counting to ten and back again, she let out a held breath as if it were an exasperated sigh. "Yeah… Yeah that's definitely him. Now you wouldn't know it, but he actually likes getting the crap beaten out of him."
The Silver King approached the red haired Centurion, her diminutive form reflecting the sunlight from the sign of her own Physique.
"
Centurion Aegus Sideros." She spoke to the taller man, every ounce the responsible Legatus. Her three existing
Priori turned to stare at her like she was some stranger that had wandered into their midst, "Do you know who I am?"
Still slick with oil and sweat, and sending the last of his sparring partners packing with a smack to the biceps, the towering pillar of bronzed flesh and wild red hair looked down at the diminutive King with a wide grin. "Aye, you're the Silver King of Thousand Song! A true hero if there was ever one! I don't know how you did it, but I'm guessing you're responsible for all of these Juniors becoming a proper challenge!"
"
Wrong," A silver hammer manifested behind Aretaphila, the weight of the
[Heaven-Shaking Song] beginning the emanate over the sparring field, "I am your new commanding officer,
Centurion." She smiled, handing over a papyrus scroll sealed with a waxen
DI. "Your orders."
Face frozen, still wearing that genial grin but for the eyebrow that he raised, Aegus collected the scroll from her hands and swiftly broke the seal. He read through them quickly, a single sweep of the eyes catching all pertinent information in the fashion all Principales quickly learned in the field in the company of hungry and bold men. Then he quickly rolled the paper up again once more and saluted the Legatus smartly. "So they are! I find myself at your discretion, Legatus!"
"Indeed you are," Aretaphilla replied with an unreadable smirk. "I'll let you settle your affairs here, Centurion. Join us at dawn at the nearest inn with your things packed and your body washed."
"Of course, Legatus." Aegus looked down at himself, chest exposed and still wearing little more than small clothes, then suddenly realised that he stood in the presence of two of the fairer sex. "Though, if protocol allows, I would be happy to depart as I am, right now."
"Go wash up you shameless pervert!" Katha cried at him. Aegus looked back at her, then craned his head as the enchantment on the helmet kept her identity a secret, as designed. Katha sputtered, grasping for justifications. "What sort of Centurion struts about the Waycastle with his chest exposed? The dignity of the Legion rests on your shoulders, Aegus Sideros!"
Another laugh, barked to the heavens. "Quite right, fellow Centurion! Well then, I will beg my leave, Legatus."
Aretaphilla nodded and so did Aegus leave, joining the Juniors as they departed from the fields and towards the showers, clapping each of them on the small of their backs as they caroused and cheered for a match well fought. Finally out of range, both Li Wei and Vatatzves turned to their Centurion, quivering in her boots.
"Charming fellow," said Lampo Vatatzves.
"I'll be honest, I had not expected to need to adjust my expectations lower again so soon," said the Sorrowful Blacksmith, almost impressed in his disgust. "Keep up the carnival of idiots and I might have to praise you, Theoodoros."
Katha remained silent, too distraught to protest.
"Alright folks," Aretaphila stared at the other three, "Let's head to an inn and discuss our next move."
---
"Let's begin by settling a few issues," Aretaphila continued later at the dining area of said inn, "We have four of the required five
Priori positions filled now." Gone were her normal affectations, deep in the demeanor of a
Legatus as her cyclopean gaze roamed over her assembled subordinates. A silver finger jabbed first at the Blacksmith, "Research and Development, Covert Operations." A second finger extended, the hand moving to Vatatzes, "Overall Operations, Tactical Officer." A third finger pointed next at Katha, "Offensive operations. Frontline Commander." The Silver King paused, "I know you're not ready for the role quite yet XXI, but you're going to be getting there more quickly than most."
"No comment," said the enigmatic Centurion, drumming her fingers in place. She glanced, saw Vatatzves' disapproving stare, then stopped. "So… Who's left for what?"
Her arm curled up, a fourth finger joining the first three, "Aegus Sideros - I intend to have him handle defensive operations and act as XXI's second on the field." Aretaphila's second arm gestured towards herself, "Due to my own abilities, I'm most likely going to spend my time in a purely support capacity once the DI takes the field, handling the coordination of the Legion and suppression of enemy supercombatants."
The Thousand Songstress paused then, her extended hand wiggling its thumb, "That leaves us someone to handle Procurement as well as rearline operations. We need a dedicated Quartermaster or at least a talented medic who doesn't mind having to handle paperwork when the rest of us are in the field."
"I'm open to suggestions."
That would be easier said than done in such a time of expansion. Quartermasters and medics were a dime a dozen in the Clan, for the Legions were eternally ravenous for resources and ways to make more with less. The issue was finding talent; Silver King or not, despite the name she bore the 501st Legion was simply one amongst many, and one lead by a Legatus that had only just begun playing the grand game of bureaucracy.
'My brother against my family, my family against my clan, my clan against the world.' Such was the common refrain, and it was certainly the case in the Legions; the discovery and retention of talent was very much an internal affair, the sort of thing Legions went to war with one another for. Aretaphilla Myia had gotten lucky twice over already by ingratiating herself before one's star rose and discovering the other while he was still obscure.
But it simply would not
do for a King to have anything less than the best. Which overall lead to a testy situation amongst her Priorii, excepting the fourth who was still scrubbing the oil out of his skin from a long day of working up a sweat in situations that rapidly became less than acceptable off the fields.
"I mean," Katha began, for the young officer had the most to prove, "We could narrow it down first? If it is a quartermaster we are looking for, then the offices of the Dawn Fortress should be the first place to look. Imperator knows there should be plenty of desk jockeys looking to join a Legion in a more senior position. As for healers, there were plenty that I saw at the Grand Battlefield, so we could just get a recommendation for a junior officer ready to reach the next realm--"
"Not a chance," said Lampo Vatatzves, with all the authority and irritation of a veteran of war. "By this point all the
good desk monkeys have been bled loose from the Dawn Fortress. Everyone left will be jealously hoarded by department heads and clan Elders, or are incompetent. And the other Legions will never let someone as valuable as a junior healer with talent out of their grasp." War was not merely fought by two sides, as any seasoned campaigner would tell. It was a patchwork of internecine conflict, fought over supplies, treatment, glory, sleeping quarters and most of all, food. The only thing more valued than a good healer was a good cook. And the only thing a good cook valued more was good supplies.
All three needed a good logistician. Which lead them back to square one.
"...Can we seriously not rely on the recommendation of another Legion?" Katha asked bitterly. "We're supposed to be on the same side, aren't we?"
"Yangchen must have forgotten a lesson or two if you haven't learned that lesson by now," sighed Vatatzves.
Li Wei shrugged. "Mind you, this is still better than everywhere else. At least eventually you'll get
someone. Though," he added, "Your Clan's love for procedure probably punishes perfectly competent officers for going against the grain. Why not find those?"
"Because all the ones with minor infractions have already been swept up by now, or soon will be," said Vatatzves. "We might be able to compete for either the Quartermaster or our Chirurgeon, but not both. And we will
need both. Especially for the Quartermaster. Because Centurion XXI here is too young, Sideros is too dumb, and I categorically
refuse."
Katha could not even protest, because her job as a
Principales had been to issue pay to the Century, and she absolutely hated the job. Everyone kept moaning about their share and wanted to look for a bigger piece. Bring food and drink into the equation and she'd fall on the
Hornsword right here and now.
Li Wei chuckled. "Am I not even up for consideration,
Primi Ordines Immunes?"
"You're an outsider." It was not said with derision, simply a matter of fact. "You are fine enough and held in the confidence of our Legatus. But I am
not giving you our money."
"Fair enough," said the blacksmith. "Besides, I'd rather die than be caught dead counting pay and crates."
"Exactly. No one wants the job. So whoever
will want the job will need to either be the self-sacrificing sort or a numbers-obsessed sociopath. And all the ones that work well with the Legions will have been collected by now, leaving us the incompetents and the
actual sociopaths. No doubt any other Legate's recommendation will only be done to rid themselves of the chaff," huffed the seasoned campaigner.Then, he slammed a jade slip onto the table, casting a name into the forefront of the minds of everyone present with a pulse of Qi.
"To that end," said the old Legionnaire, "I have a candidate in mind for the Legatus to consider."
"...Did you just lead us around by the nose, just so you could solve our problems in a more dramatic fashion?" Asked the Sorrowful Blacksmith.
Lampo Vatatzves looked straight at him, steel in his eyes. Then, the slightest ghost of a smirk. "Yes."
Li Wei laughed. Katha looked aghast. And Legate Aretaphilla, who remained silent thus far, did the most frightening thing a Legate could do.
She smiled.
"I see you've been working on this for some time, Vatatzes," The Legatus said, satisfied, "Holding out on us is certainly new."
"When dealing with the likes of you, Legatus Myia, I've come to realize that if I can not
avoid being swept up in your nonsense then the only way to maintain my sanity is wrap you all up in my own."
"Well said,
Primi Ordines Immunes." Aretaphila replied, her single eye turning back towards the jade token, "By this time tomorrow we'll be on our way to the Camp of the 353rd Legion, where our final
Priorii awaits!."
---
The sound of creaking wheels played against the gentle blowing of wind as the DI Carriage traveled east, over fired and fused sand blocks. The near-white stone that comprised the most basic building blocks of the Scorpion Road. Three days after departing Waycastle Thrake, the great artery of the Clan had widened once again, the traffic of caravans finally growing enough to justify the change; the sign of increased trade as vehicles carrying the markings of the Jingshen and Golden Devils flew westward and eastward.
On the fourth day after departing Thrake, traffic swelled to where even the expanded width of the Scorpion Road found itself crowded, the path more congested than even the enriching flow of trade that had filled Waycastle Myia since the defeat of the Battle Blood Cannibals.
Like a trail of ants, caravans from all the Great Powers flowed from east and west to the North, heading to trade goods at Seven Heavens Trade City. What might have once, a long time ago, been Waycastle Theodoros, until the old fortress was shattered and Clan Theodoros with it.
Not that Katha really knew where Waycastle Theodoros ever was. All she knew was that it once overlooked the Colossus Footstep Pass, an indication of the high esteem her family was once held in. Frankly, it was all greek to her; looking at the sheer density of traffic, it occurred to her that maybe being born into a thriving clan instead of a withering one would have just made things worse for her.
...She should send a message to Constantine one of these days. He was definitely living out that nightmare right now.
"So!" Aegus suddenly and loudly declared, his eyes firmly shut. "I spy, with my little eye, something with too much money!"
Vatatzves and Li Wei both remained quiet; they had lost their patience with their fourth Priorii's attempts to break up the monotony before he even started this stupid game. Katha, who was at least nominally friends with Aegus, obliged him with a response. "You'll have to be more specific. We're
surrounded by Jingshen caravans."
Aegus nodded, still smiling. Silence ensured. Then, he opened one eye. "Your turn, Theodoros."
"I spy with my little eye someone about to get decked in the face, Sideros."
"Someone who would oblige?" Aegus asked hopefully.
"Someone I'm becoming more obligated to hit," Katha said dangerously.
"Hoho! Then hit as hard as you'd like!"
"How old is he again?" Li Wei whispered.
"She's not even forty and he's not even seventy," sighed Vatatzves. Clever man and seasoned campaigner he is, he already had a shawl laid over his face, though his naps have long since been interrupted by internecine pop quizzes. "Basically, shut up I'm trying to sleep."
"Only old men sleep,
Primi Ordines Immunes," Li Wei said.
"If only I was," the old man grumbled. "I only feel like it."
"That's the spirit," Aretaphila chuckled, "We're all still young yet."
---
It was another two days before the tall walls of the "Giant-Slayer's Bulwark" of the 353rd Legion came into view; one of the few deliberate deviations from the standardized arrangement of the Waycastles. Rising over a dozen meters tall, the numerous towers dotting its parapets presented a perpetually bristling profile to all comers. As the garrison intended to secure the continuity of trade along the Scorpion Road, it's ability to function as a continuous bulwark was prioritized by the clan above all else related to it.
Holding a hundred thousand mortals and twenty-thousand Legionnaires, the Bulwark was evacuated once a century in its entirety - and all Clansmen were forbidden from re-entry until the end of the Hundred Year Trials. That fact alone was why the "Encampment" had remained proud and standing even as its three sister Waycastles had been laid low over the past number of centuries.
Even the 353rd Legion was considered an elite posting - sent to reinforce other garrisons when it was dispersed every century, the demands on mobility and skill required in both filling the role of vital reinforcements as well as reliable guards against trespass into Clan territories meant the appellate of "Slayers of Giants" was as much an expectation as it was a sobriquet.
Truthfully, Aretaphila had been surprised at Vatatzes recommendation. The CCCLIII were notorious for being closed fisted - especially after the Trials over a hundred years ago when the Legions Legate had perished along with the majority of Core Formation Elders at the hands of Bhrigu. Yet, much like the Clan at large, a new Legatus had been found for them. A Foundation Establishment Expert rising to the challenge, and common rumor held that shockingly he had brought the Western Stretches of the Scorpion Road to heel even as Thrace, Acrocorinth, and even storied Pleuron had laid in ruins.
Out west, the Legatus could see the faint signs of the accompanying Shantytown to the Waycastle, but the DI were not there for that. Rather, they carried a heavy atmosphere of discipline and power, arriving at the front gates to the Bulwark itself.
Yet, despite the prestigious reputation for the Legion only staffing the best and most promising of the Clan's defensive Experts, something appeared off to the eyes of the Foundation Establishment
Priorii and
Legatus within that Carriage. Even the relatively inexperienced Theodoros could tell. But there was no point in being concerned. Whatever the cause of the oddity, it was one which enabled the DI to accomplish their objective, and so Aretaphila let her curiosity pass with only an unvoiced gratitude that she had managed to save enough Legion Points to afford the candidate they were presently there for.
Trundling through the Waycastle, a singular structure stood out: A jet black obsidian construction jutted into the air - weathered and ancient compared to everything else surrounding it, the Keep of the Bulwark rose high, casting a slender and deep shadow beyond the castle's walls. Streams of bronzed Cultivators moved back and forth from its many entrances, each of them gold-haired and blue-eyed, signs of their rich and thick Blood of Bronze.
The DI Carriage parked before one of the less trafficked entrances to the keep, the Aurochs pulling it snorting and pawing as they took a rest. With uncanny precision of timing, a Centurion stepped out from the shadowed portal, a simple leather jerkin emblazoned with fine bronzed filigree, depicting a great and massive foot with a smaller hand gripped at the ankle from beneath it.
"State your business," The Centurion stated, arms folded behind his back, posture ramrod straight.
"
Legatus Aretaphila Myia, DI
Legio." Aretaphila's voice rang out authoritatively, "I'm here to complete a transfer of personnel into my senior staff."
The Expert's eyes narrowed slightly before returning to their previous placid guardedness, "Apologies
Legatus, but I'll need to see some proof of identity."
With a ringing sound the door to the onyx carriage slammed open, revealing the defiant stance of the Silver King, flecked blue eye staring the
Centurion in the face.
"Proof enough?" She asked, eyebrow raised.
The taller man saluted smartly, "May I ask who you're here for, Ma'am?"
"
Immunes Drakos." Aretaphila replied as the Expert twitched ever so slightly, "Can you take us to her?"
"Right away."
----
Passing through the threshold of the keep had been like stepping into a different world; not just the change in light - the atmosphere itself became thinner, colder. It reminded Aretaphila of the highest places in the world, the sensations of the air in the midst of her tribulation, or the underground grotto she had encountered in her youth. A place that was both hostile, yet all too healthy for a cultivator due to rich qi suffusing the air.
Two sets of torches lined the walls as far as the eye could see. Aretaphila's sense of distance is easily fooled by yet another aspect of the keep's odd construction.
But the Centurion does not lead her down the proverbial rabbit hole, instead guiding the Legatus through a series of side passages through which the number of strangely common Aspirants seem able to find their way casually, numbers of CCCLIII Legionnaires passing them by as they penetrate ever deeper into the facility.
"Is there anything…
special" the Legatus says playfully, "About the
Immunes by any chance?"
The taller soldier only walks forward, making no sign of having heard her.
"I saw you hesitate when I asked for her,
Centurion." Aretaphila continues, "One of my
Priorii said something interesting to me when we settled on requesting the
Immunes for transfer," Her voice grows rich, flows more easily.
The Foundation Building Expert replies, almost in spite of himself, "What did he say, exactly.?
"That with the times being what they are, almost all good free Experts and potential subordinates have been snatched up by other enterprising Legatii." She turned a bright smile to the man, "No one wants the job that we intend to ask her to perform. So whoever winds up falling into it
will want the job and will need to either be the self-sacrificing sort or a numbers-obsessed sociopath. And all the ones that work well with the Legions will have been collected by now, leaving us the incompetents and the
actual sociopaths."
The pair continued walking, only the intermittent light of torches breaking up the illusion of depth, "So, which is the
Immunes, Centurion?"
Silence met Aretaphila for a long time, before the scent of smoke and char began to fill the air. The orange-red of the keeps torches occasionally being joined by prismatic flashes of color. As they reached a single singed doorway, the Expert gestured into the room beyond before saluting.
"I wish I knew, but the Legate's made his decision clear."
Aretaphila turned to look at the Centurion before entering the chamber.
"She's your problem now,
Legatus. Good luck."
With a huff and a shrug, Aretaphila Myia walked ahead.
---
Three colored flames roared in neatly arranged furnaces. Crackling, dancing, even
singing as a figure moved between them with the ease of long practice. The head of the Myia family took a moment to look over her fifth and final
Priorii:
Roughly shorter than Katha Theodoros,
Immunes Alexandria Drakos wore a thick smock with heavy leather apron in front; an outfit which did nothing to obscure her prodigious figure. The realization caused the Silver King to turn her attention back to the woman's work. To her senses, Dracos was a whirlwind of activity even when apparently standing still - bands of Qi flowing in and out of the Pill Furnaces, each gossamer-thin and making constant, minute adjustments to the alchemical processes going on.
Time passed, Aretaphila unwilling to interrupt the woman's work. The
Immunes engrossed in it. But eventually the flames within the furnaces died down, lids opening for limbs of Qi to lift out a trio of glittering pills, each one wildly different from the rest in appearance.
Golden eyes assessed their work critically, before nodding silently in apparent satisfaction.The work of a smith, and a job well done.
And at that moment, Aretaphila finally revealed her presence, clapping encouragingly.
"That was quite the show,
Immunes."
Alexandria Drakos turned about immediately, her apron rippling as she slips it off with a single sweep of her arm. For an instant there is a flash of fury, white hot and nearly so fierce it could be tasted. Then she saw the singular blue eye, the diminutive stature, and the scion of the Myia. As quick as it came, the anger left, and the
Immunes bowed instead.
"
Primo Centurios Aretaphilla. What brings you to my humble workshop?" She looked up with one eye, the other blinked and her lips lightly quirked. "Ah, my apologies. That would be
Legatus Aretaphilla now, correct?"
"Indeed," said the Silver King, whose voice was soft and gentle like wind chimes. If the sudden psychotic rage concerned her at all, and it did not, the hope of the Myia did not show it. She presented a scroll, describing Alexandria's new orders. "Then you know why I'm here?"
"Of course," said Alexandria Drakos. She brushed aside a lock of rusty red hair, threading it around one of her ears. "I will gladly serve, of course. My skills and healing arts will be at your disposal, and your Legion will be at my mercy. I trust that will be acceptable?"
Now, Aretaphilla grinned. "Oh,
more than fine. I think we will get along
famously,
Priorus Drakos." Her smile kept as Alexandria made to gather her tools and prepare a more fitting setting for this meeting, though a Pill Forge is more austere a setting than most for receiving transfer orders. "That aside, what's your Legatus' plan?"
Alexandria looked up at her new commander, face still impassive. "Plan, Legatus? Whatsoever do you mean?"
"Everything and nothing at all,
Priorus, everything and nothing at all. What do you know about the current mass recruitment drive?"
Alexandria scoffed as she stood up straight, arms crossed and hip cocked. "I would say that my Legatus was holding onto a proven talent and that those who think I have
problems should sooner reconsider their words before I rip out their guts on the sparring grounds and put them back in reverse in the operating theatre." The way she said it, with a kindly smile and not the slightest change in intonation, made her more frightening than a raging bull, and the Silver King's smile only grew and
grew. "But I would also be the first to admit that, frankly, I have a problem managing my temper."
"All the better to keep the Legionnaires in line," Aretaphilla nodded. "Best for them to only find you for truly
worthwhile maladies, as befits a proper soldier."
"Ah, a kindred soul," sighed Alexandria in relief. "I never thought to see the day. You seem like a wonderful girl,
Legatus Aretaphilla, and as a true heir of the Myia you're sharper than most already, so I shall offer a word of advice: the Legatus does so enjoy the path of most resistance."
Aretaphilla was already far from the walls, having inched closer to Alexandria as their conversation continued. "I see my assessment was right on the mark then,
Priorus."
"My, I do believe I will
enjoy this next appointment, Legatus. My thanks again for receiving me, my appointment must surely have cost you."
"We spared no expense, Priorus Drakos," replied Aretaphilla, as the wall behind her rumbled. "Only the best for the DI Legion."
---
The next half hour passed amicably. Unlike with Aegus' recruitment, Drakos had had actual bureaucratic responsibilities to see through before she could depart. And based on the woman's words and Aretaphila's own suspicions, the Legatus had no intention of having to make a second trip to the Black Keep if she could help it.
Thankfully, in addition to the Myia storage ring she already possessed, Aretaphila now had the nearly-empty storage ring of the DI Legion - the items it formerly held now stored safely at their new barracks in Waycastle Myia.
"Anything else we should look for on our way out, Priorus?" The Silver King asked, "I imagine you're as eager to leave this place behind as I am."
"Oh?" A new voice joined in, gravelly, smooth. The quiet purr of a mountain cat, reverberating through the foothills and mountains. Words sink through into bone, even through the prodigious physique of the Single Pillar King.
"I hadn't thought that our facilities were so bad,
Immunes!" It continued, domineering and honeyed, "If I'd known that you being dissatisfied with your lodgings motivated your…
issues then maybe I wouldn't be out an officer of your skill!"
A flash of mad fury crossed Anastasia's face, her golden eyes flaring with heat as they burned at the shadowed entryway to the chamber.
Aretaphila turned, staring in confusion at the void in her senses as a rich presence of the Dao poured in from that absence.
Core Formation.
"Real shame. Really." The voice continued, almost a drawl, "Guess you can't…" A thick, burly arm swung out from the darkness. A leather arm guard, lined with gleaming filigree that stunk of power. Carelessly, it swung back, and a thick boot, dark as night, stepped heavily into the light of the chamber. Powerfully it flexed, revealing a darkened iron cuirass, similarly covered in shining bands of metal.
"
Win 'em all."
With a threatening growl, an aged and lined face revealed itself. Lips bared in a fierce and threatening smile, shadows cast stark impressions on its craggy and imposing surface. Dark, bronzed hair flecked with bits of pale patina caught the light cunningly. Barrel chested, he stood taller than any member of the Clan Aretaphila had ever seen without obvious mutations to their body.
Now fully visible, the Silver King's eye widened in shock. The filigree!
"Oh? You've got good eyes,
Centurion." The Core Formation Elder paused, a meat hand clapping softly against his forehead in exaggerated motion, "Oh! Sorry. How could I forget?"
His bared lips twitched, fierce bearing joined by a patronized simpering.
"
Eye." He chuckled, "That was very insensitive of me." A hand extended, the taller Golden Devil bending his knees far more than necessary, "Let's let
bygones be
bygones. Whaddya say?"
The air of boiling rage further intensified, but Aretaphila heeded it none as she stared the Elder directly in the eye.
"Who the hells are you?"
This seemed to break the man's composure, his face slackening and eyes popping out in shock. Lips parted in a wide "oh" he silently looked around as if in surprise before settling on Anastasia Drakos. His free hand gesturing from Aretaphila to her in stunned disbelief.
Drakos' smouldering glare merely intensified.
"'Who the hells am I' she says," His voice returns, all too audibly muttering, "Young lady,
I am the man who's been signing your paychecks for the past century and a
half."
With one more shake of his head, both meaty hands pushed against his trunk-like legs and
pushed, raising himself to his full height as the pressure of a Core Formation Elder flowed forth anew.
Arms spread, pure Spirit Bronze filigree flashing and sparking with Qi, "
I am
Legatus Augusti Pro Praetor Potiorus Rex! Commander of the Defiant Slayers of Giants, the 353rd Legion!" Head tilted back with a satisfied smile, his eyes languidly closed as the lightshow continued, accompanied by the air cracking and booming with the pressure of his Qi.
"
Legatus Legionus Aretaphila Myia of the reconstituted Fist of Dawn, the 501st Legion." The Silver King gritted out, her own Single Pillar churning defiantly against the presence of her ostensible peer.
Two eyes snapped open, dark eyes the color of a summer storm glaring into her own cyclopean gaze with fervor.
"'Course I know who you are,
Legatus." His expression twisted into a sneer, "Spent a lotta good Legion Contribution Points on you over the years, how could I not?" Nostrils flared as he turned back towards the newly reassigned
Priorus.
"Got everything settled, Drakos?" He asked, voice low and dangerous.
"...Yeah." The red haired woman replied.
"Good," Legatus Rex said, lips pursed, "Now let's get you two the
hell out of my building."
---
The three of them walked out into the curious hallway of the Black Keep, only for the large figure of Potiorus to glance at Alexandria Drakos.
"
Immunes," He growled, "Your new Legion have parked themselves outside the Northern entrance." His head jerked, "You know the way out." With a final, hate-filled salute the red-haired woman departed.
"It's
Pilus Prior Immunes now," Aretaphila replied authoritatively.
Storming eyes narrowed at the smaller figure before turning back to the shrinking figure of the Expert.
"I'm aware."
Aretaphila's own eye narrowed, and Potiorus continued, "What? Did you forget who
approved that transfer?" The older man harrumphed derisively, "You're still
green, Myia. Even if you're over two hundred years old. Even
if you're a
Single Pillar King."
"Then why act this way?" The Legatus of the DI asked, "I don't see the point."
His expression twisted into a disgusted sneer, "Because you
pissed. Me. Off." Gesticulating at the dimly lit corridor they were in Potorius Rex elaborated, "Girl, when you returned from the Crags the first time, did you never think to see who posted those caravan missions you spent forty years doing?"
Aretaphila's mind cast to those memories of her youth as a Qi Condensation Cultivator, the peaceful mundanity painted over by the crushing despair and terror, "Sorry. I had a lot going through my mind those days."
The taller Legatus grunted, his sneer still in place, "Kid I used to be a damn Caravan Patroller. In those days my Century was assigned to the northern parts of the Scorpion Road. Heard what you put up with, and so I requested you specifically on a whim. At first." He sighed, "And then that stuff happened at Pleuron, and I found myself paying attention."
"How'd that turn into you finding yourself…
here?" The Myia scion continued, turning slowly skeptical even as she kept her own eye facing ahead.
Potiorus snorted, "Old Lucaenus bit it against that Key using bastard. Since the Tripletrip was split around on Hunter-Killer duty, he didn't have an excuse not to." The sneer deepened, "Dumb bastard. Leaving all the work to the newbies like that."
She hummed noncommittally, "Wait." For the first time in the conversation Aretaphila tilted her head towards her conversation partner, "Tripletrip?"
The elder Legate rolled his eyes, "The old language!" A finger extended, tracing light through the air, forming a series of symbols.
CCCLIII. "Trip-El-Trip!" The Silver King's lips tugged into a disgusted frown, causing the larger man's eyes to narrow in fury, "Don't gimme that look! It rolls off the damn tongue!"
"I'm not sure that's what matters." Aretaphila replied.
"Oh yeah?" Potiorus sneered, "Don't think I didn't see that fucking
embarassment of a carriage with that tacky "DI" on both sides!" A meaty finger leveled towards the Thousand Songstresses face, "Don't talk to
me about bad taste, woman!"
A silver hand waved through the air dismissively, "Whatever, so you were saying? Something about the previous Legate dying like an idiot?"
For a long moment there was no response, the Legatus of the 353rd glaring in silent fury. The air was silent save for the quiet guttering of torchlight, continuing before the Core Formation Elder took a deep breath, "Right.
"Old man died, and left the northern parts of the Scorpion Road a damn mess. If it hadn't been for Yao assisting in patrols I would've never been able to tie things back together within the decade."
Aretaphila's eye widened in shock as the older man continued, "You're lucky, brat. You only have a Legion
on paper. Thanks to the shit you and your friends pulled at Pleuron and pure fucking
luck the Tripletrips were able to maintain themselves as Legion-in-fact and resemble their patrols." His scowl deepened, "As none of the other damn Experts in our Legion had the brains or the strength to keep our patrols, our inspections, our
garrisons in working order." Two hands raised, gesturing wildly around the two Legatii.
"All this you see here? Mine." His lowered into a furious, rasping growl, "It's
mine. I made it! All being made Legatus at the time did was confirm what everyone in the Northern territories had already known!" The Legatus paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"And once that happened, I started requesting you on missions around the Region and to handle caravans into the new territories. Hell, I figured that when the time came for you to settle in on a Legion, the least you could do is remember the 'Ol Giant-Slayers, and sign up with the Tripletrip."
"But that never happened," Aretaphila observed.
"That never
did, no." Potiorus snarled, "Almost two centuries of waiting for you to break through, so I could welcome you with open arms." The hallway filled with the pressure of his very existence, "
Wasted."
The Silver King's gaze narrowed as her Pillar rotated in response..
"Why was Drakos' available for transfer, Legatus?"
A massive hand tugged at an armguard, meaty fingers adjusting the onyx leather with practiced ease, "Isn't that obvious?" Five digits flexed experimentally, nonchalantly.
"I knew you were looking."
"
How?"
Storm-Blue eyes filled Aretaphila's vision, "Because you
somehow, some way preempted me on getting the Theodoros girl!"
The Silver King stepped back in shock at the Core Formation Legate, "How did you even know to look?!" She paused, "Wait, you don't mean?!"
"That's right!" Potiorus Rex sneered, his voice booming with laughter and triumph, "Once I saw you were putting together your own damn ragtag Legion and had somehow snatched up the most promising Aspirant in a generation, I
knew you'd put out the feelers to look out for someone like Drakos!" Aretaphila felt her expression grow stiff.
But she rallied, "So what?! There's thousands of Experts in the Legions! I could've easily found someone else that fit the requirements!"
Potiorus's sneer turned into a knowing smirk, "Ordinarily you might. But do you know
why there's such a rush for picking up qualified personnel?" At Aretaphila's hesitation he continued, "Turns out, the Legions are reorganizing and expanding! Finding room to prepare to invade the Jingshen and wipe them out before the next Trials come around!"
"What?!"
"Yeah, the way I see it that's probably why the Old Man indulged in your request in the first place! After that
freakshow you put up at Thousand Song, there was no chance in hell he would've allowed you to remain unaccompanied on the battlefield again! Especially with an invasion imminent!"
Two hands clasped the thick plate of dark iron forming the front of the cuirass, "You got
lucky, Myia. Not just once! Not even twice! Three times these past two decades have you tripped over yourself to wind up where you were! Getting that damn Blacksmith! Picking up Vatatzes! Bet you thought you were just getting lucky
again,
didn't you?!" The older man's expression schooled itself into calm disdain.
"The thought crossed my mind." Aretaphila replied neutrally.
"Hmmph," The Core Formation Legate cracked his neck with a meaty pop before meeting the shorter woman's gaze, "So yeah. I saw the way the market was going. Did what I could to drive up demand-"
"Wait." She interrupted, "What the hell did you just say?"
"Didn't you notice,
Legatus?" He gestured around, "You just picked up the last Foundation Building Expert
in this building."
"
What."
"I've had…" A hand buffed the dark surface of his cuirass, before idly blowing on the tips of those meaty fingers, "About a century or so to set up my stable of Legionnaires with the expectation of you joining them once I managed to wrangle having you assigned here. And now that it seems that ain't gonna happen...Well, I've got a lot of stocked favors and a Legion Contribution Points with nothing to spend 'em on!"
Potiorus smiled challengingly, "So I figure, why the hell not start from scratch? I don't need to worry about flawless teamwork with the assumption that gaps in cultivation won't matter! No, no! I've done the
smart thing. Traded all my Experts and senior staff away! Did it ahead of the word coming down on the invasion too, so I got points at a premium, dammit!"
"
What."
"Cost me a fair bit, but I made sure I got myself first pick of the best of the rest! If talent suddenly matters again, then I
need talent, don't I? Just took some horse trading of promising Juniors, and once again my Trip-El-Trip is on the damn
fast track to becoming the preeminent Legion of the
Optimatoi!"
"How the hells?!" Aretaphila nearly gasped in disbelief. The absurdity of what was coming out of this madman's mouth!
The Legatus of the Giant-Slayers smirked back, "The Black Keep is the
second most important fortification in our Core Territories
Legatus. The Grand Mountainwall isn't a fortification at all, so it falls to
us to be the stewards of the sole land route that our Clan fell back from to arrive in this desert thousands of years ago.
We are the rearguard. Forever ensuring that all that enters into and departs from our lands will never come to harm it. Only the Dawn Fortress and the network of defenses facing the Great Rift down south are of greater strategic worth.
"Did you think that as the one who has risen its garrison to heights unseen in living memory that I wouldn't wield a proportionate amount of influence in turn?!"
Panic nearly overtook Aretaphila, sheer raw shock at the absurd scale of what had lead to this one
conversation. Deliberately warping the economy of Experts in the Legions. Artificially raising the price for Legatii to purchase talented Experts to staff their Legions in the face of an immense reorganization of the
Optimatoi at large through their own influence. Restructuring one of the most successful Legions right after the lightest Centennial Trials in thousands of years, leaving it with only a skeleton crew while new senior staff acclimated to the posting
on the eve of the first offensive war of the Legions since their arrival in the desert.
Deliberately leaving only
one officer in the North to fill the exact niche Aretaphila would be looking to fill amongst her own senior staff. Keeping the price affordable for her own budget while making sure no one else snatched up said officer.
All to ensure that Aretaphila Myia would come to the Black Keep
in person, alone save her own Senior Staff.
"All this…" She finally said after regaining control over herself, "Just so you can have a one on one talk with me?!"
Potiorus smirked, "Of course!" He turned to face her fully, taking a step forward to stand all the more imposingly over the Silver King, his Dao Pillar overbearing in its raw presence against Aretaphila's own Single Pillar.
A single, meaty finger filled her vision, "You've made an enemy of me, Aretaphila Myia. Stealing away the talents I'd spent centuries preparing the best conditions for, and even denying me the runner up prize I'd intended to grab up as well."
He turned smartly on his heel, "Consider Drakos a gift,
Legatus." His swaggering steps took him deeper into the darkened hallway, his imposing figure vanishing into the shadows.
"From here on out, I don't intend to lose again."
-----
"Oh, shit, that's the Dragon," said Aegus, and his words stirred the carriage from their impromptu nap, prompting a cavalcade of groans and grumbles. Still, they acknowledged this one for once, for it was not the volume of his voice or the energy in his words that drew their attentions, but the slight edge his words had been cut upon. Aegus Sideros, fearless fool, was finally expressing something close to it.
Vatatzves, upon hearing that, barked a laugh and promptly went back to sleep. Li Wei, not aware of the import of that title but seeing the senior most officer's reaction, did the same. Only Katha, who was young enough to be both curious and stupidly keen about it, remained awake and active enough to ask questions.
"Who's the Dragon?" the young Theodoros asked.
"I heard it from some friends on the way back from One-Boat, One-River Pass. One of their Immunes was a real tyrant, a true monster on and off the battlefield. They say that her words were so sharp, the blade of a Sword Cultivator could learn a lesson or two about cutting from her." Aegus looked back at her, shrugging. "I don't know who they were, but I think a passing Sword Cultivator heard that, flew into a rage, and challenged them to an honour duel."
Katha rolled her eyes and waved her hands for him to move on with it.
Being a Sword Cultivator, she was well aware of their reputations for having hair-trigger tempers. It was even an encouraged stereotype; the path of the Sword was one not only paved by conflict, but charted with it. "Right, so she's real scary? Nasty temper, way with words?"
"Apparently she's also a really good healer, and you know what they say about good healers." Turning back to the windows, Aegus sighed in an almost… longing fashion. "The poisons she could craft… Why, she could murder us all in our sleep with a tasteless, odorless poison in our meals, and we wouldn't know it until our lungs began filling up with our own boiling blood."
Katha frowned, though not at his descriptions. Frightening poison Cultivators who doubled as doctors were almost a dime a dozen in the Clan. "Are you… looking forward to meeting her, Sideros?"
"What can I say, Theodoros?" Aegus looked back, a completely neutral and firm expression on his face. "I admire dangerous women. The better with which to test myself."
"...You just implied something about me and I'm not sure what to feel about that."
"Oh, certainly, on the field of battle you are very dangerous, and exceedingly admirable! But alas, you are still young and possessed of this little thing called shame, Theodoros, and that reduces your danger by a significant margin. But it is a simple matter to improve upon!" said Aegus reassuringly, or as reassuringly as he thought he was being. "One of these days, Theodoros, you will be as shameless as the rest of us, and then you will become truly powerful!"
Silence stretched into infinity as Katha's glare shot holes through Aegus who, being the proud owner of an empty head, felt nothing at all. Li Wei barked a laugh, which won him a share of that glare which he, too, shrugged off like it was nothing.
Then, Lampo Vatatzves rose from his nap and stretched his wrists as he got ready to disembark the carriage. "Alright, enough horsing around. You're Priorii now, and that means understanding basic manners. That means you greet new people
outside of the carriage."
Katha, filled with rage that had no release, kicked the door on her side open and all but launched herself loose. Aegus, who saw it as a demonstration of her commitment to shed her shame, did his best to throw himself further from the door. Li Wei, who was thoroughly amused up until the young fools he rode with thought to literally rock the carriage he was sitting in, emerged with squinted eyes and a grouchy demeanour.
And greeting them was Alexandria Drakos, the Dragon that Aegus spoke off, who seemed more perturbed than anything, possibly by the violence with which Aegus and Katha had thrown themselves free. She regarded them with rapid blinks, then turned right to Lampo Vatatzves.
"I don't suppose you are one of the 501st's
Pilus Priorii, then?" She asked.
"That would be all of us," Vatatzves replied. "That's Aegus Sideros, this is Li Wei, our Legatus' Auxilia, and
that is the famed Katha Theodoros."
Katha, sensing that it was her turn, extended a hand to their new
Priorus immediately. "H-Hello, Expert."
"Alexandria Drakos, soon to be your fifth, then." She received Katha's hand and shook it firmly, looking at the slightly taller redhead with a prospector's eye. "Our clan's newest and youngest genius has a Pilus appointment already? At this rate you might be the youngest Legate the Clan has seen in thousands of years."
Katha did not know how to respond to that. So instead she nodded and smiled while offering empty platitudes. Alexandria saw right through that, however, and she chuckled softly while the young scion sputtered.
"My, not even forty and already making such promises," said Alexandria with a light air of mischief. "You are either the next truly great talent of our age, Katha Theodoros, or you are simply blowing hot air like this senior sister wouldn't notice."
"...If I say it was the second do you promise not to get mad at me?" Katha asked in a small voice.
Alexandria laughed again, a musical thing, and pat her gently on the forearm. "I never will, my dear. Not as long as you keep that head on your shoulders and your feet firmly upon the ground."
Katha let out a small sigh, happy to know that she will have someone she can properly rely upon now, instead of a mentor as prickly as Lampo Vatatzves.
"...So." Aegus pointed at the gate while he looked back at the others, one hand running through ruddy red hair. "How long did the Legatus say we needed to wait for her, Drakos?"
Alexandria's sharp look snapped towards him immediately, a far cry from the gentleness with which she had regarded Katha. "I did not think we were in the business of
abandoning our commanding officer,
Pilus. Do you need a lesson in the minutiae of command?"
Aegus returned with a broad grin. "Yes please, Lady Drakos."
"...Hum. Someone who
wants to fight. A curious prospect. Valuable, perhaps. Worth considering?" Muttering, Alexandria quickly nodded to herself. "Maybe. Pilus Priorus Aegus Sideros, fight me."
His grin grew wider.
"Yes please, Lady Drakos."
"...Heel, Sideros," Vatatzves said, then louder. "Heel! I said HEEL!"
----
It was a scene of carnage that greeted Aretaphila Myia upon exiting the Black Keep. An impromptu sparring ring had been marked out in front of
her carriage by smoke and flame as her most recently appointed
Priorii circled one another with crazed expressions on both their faces.
"Damnable redheads," She muttered as the two clashed with burning alchemical flames and manifested Qi armaments.
"I
was intending to determine who would receive the role of
Praefectus amongst the five of you on the way back, but I see here that my job's just been made easier." Aretaphila said more aloud, before a great silver hammer appeared behind her, tapping her Silver Summer's Bell Constitution.
A Song rang from her body, a wave of visible Qi slamming into Li Wei. The Twinned Peak Mountain Song was based off the Great Mountain Bell Song. Rather than raising up a limitless number of Juniors to become closer to her in power at no cost, the Twinned Peak Mountain instead granted a target of her choice strength equivalent to her
entire cultivation base.
And strictly speaking, Li Wei was
already in possession of the second highest cultivation base of her Senior Staff.
With a long suffering ease a massive hammer lined with array characters appeared in Li Wei's hands.
"
Auxillia, please clean up, won't you?"
"Of course,
Legatus." The Blacksmith grinned eagerly, crimson armor unfolding across his body into a heavily customized hoplite.
He hefted and swung the massive, array-inscribed hammer experimentally, "I've been
waiting for this."
----
It was a thing of beauty, the fight that followed. It was a sight that would not be quickly forgotten by those who were there, every action flawless and not a hair out of place. It would be a struggle to describe what followed as a fight, for it was more of a dance, where every step and every movement flowed into one another perfectly, a synchronisation that would be difficult to match even with ample practice and the higher arts of Qi guiding one's path.
But it would be done, this day and perhaps never again, as two redheads united under common cause did what their ancestors long ago wished they could do and kicked a Sorrowful Blacksmith off of their bloody fields together.
That Li Wei was then subsequently humiliated by his two Juniors despite having Cultivation beyond the peak of Foundation Establishment was proof of the old maxim of Cultivation Base not being everything in a fight. Even one so outlandishly boosted by a Single Pillar King.
However, the means that said Single Pillar King then employed as punishment for such insubordination were ones scarred into the heart of all who saw, both of the 353rd Legion and not, is something which is best left forgotten.
The agonies and humiliations brought about by the combination of Dao Emanations and the Myia family's most infamous debilitating Demonic Tune Art were ones that evoked phantom pains even in passerby. And thus firmly and finally established the proverbial pecking order in the DI Legion from then and henceforth into the future.
501st Legio - Dawn's Fist
Legatus Legionus - Aretaphila Myia
Tribunus Laticlavius, Pilum Prior - Lampo Vatatzes
Praefectus Castrorum, Pilum Prior Immunes - Alexandria Drakos
Pilum Prior Immunes Auxillia - Li Wei
Pilum Prior - Aegus Sideros
Pilum Prior - Centurion XXI (Katha Theodoros)
A.N.: Originally this was intended to be much shorter, and just cover the recruitment of Katha. But then this turn started to look super hype, and making like 20 different collabs for a single turn to introduce the principal members of the cast seemed super tedious. And then someone had the bright idea of making a Nineteen Thousand Word Collab omake of their own!
The audacity.
Well, naturally Swordo and I proceeded to rise to the challenge. And now we'd like to humbly introduce you to the DI Legion. Inheritors of the Will of DI.
The Team's assembled. Next up, the heist.
Let's see if we can't convince the dice to give us some cars to make this a proper Fast and Furious movie...
