B3 Chapter 76: The Most Confidence-Inspiring News

The Legion scrambled to face the new threat. Men rushed to don their armor and retrieve their equipment before streaming toward the gaping hole in the mountain. Yet Marcus simply stood still, staring down into the second pit carved below.

A level forty-six. Something well beyond the strength of even an area boss, something that could swallow an entire town whole and turn a city into a light snack. Its appearance would normally prompt the adventurer’s guild to send out an emergency call for its most seasoned adventurers to address the looming threat. Something that dangerous had so casually appeared out of nowhere and disappeared as quickly.

No, he corrected himself. Not casually. The orcs had somehow directed it here. The suicidal brutes had sent a monster like that barreling through the mountain like dogs herding a massive cow, all to make an easier path for themselves. He refused to believe it was a simple coincidence. It was too convenient. It was madness.

Though he supposed he should be grateful that they hadn’t tamed it outright and sent the thing barreling through the Legion’s ranks. He wasn’t certain that even they would survive such a thing.

“Archers, fall back and form up! Everyone else, fall in, now!”

Marcus stumbled as a rushing Legionnaire bumped into him. That finally freed him from his stupor. He looked around, taking stock of the situation as centurions continued to bark orders.

Despite being caught unaware, the Romans didn’t waste any time in their response. Campfires and tents lay forgotten as the entire reserve camp massed around the tunnel with unprecedented speed, its interior now glowing with torchlight. A dense wall of shields sprang up and prepared to stem the flow of attackers. The worm’s passage had caused a section of the nearby wall to crumble, damage that a small group of Legionnaires was already hard at work fixing.

He rushed toward a nearby group of officers as they continued to shout orders and coordinate. One noticed him and turned. “Bard. Have you recovered?”

He nodded. “Well enough. What do you need?*

“A massive instant death spell would be nice. Or some way to collapse the tunnel.”

The man raised an eyebrow at Marcus, who shook his head. Unfortunately, neither was in his repertoire. “Can the earthshapers not collapse the tunnel themselves?”

“No. Most are busy on the front lines. The ones we do have say that taking that tunnel down fast enough to stop the orcs is as likely to bury us as it is the enemy, if it’s even possible.”

Marcus grimaced. That… wasn’t the most confidence-inspiring news. But the fact that the man wasn’t actively panicking suggested that they weren’t completely without recourse. “So… what’s the plan?”

At this point, the first green figures were just beginning to appear at the tunnel’s entrance. They slammed into the wall of Legionnaires with their characteristic ferocity, the Legionnaires’ barrier creaking under the force of the wave. Despite the wall being positioned to take the brunt of the attack, it took time for the men to properly assemble, especially given how spread out they'd been across the large camp. The very edges of the formation threatened to give, allowing orcs through and making the prospect of a forward push even more tenuous.

More and more men began to join the shield wall, increasing its depth and stabilizing the situation. But the officer frowned. “This isn’t sustainable. At this rate, even if we push forward, we’ll burn through our stamina before exhausting the orcs.”

Marcus looked toward the frothing mob of orcs working to break out of the tunnel, then at the second pit the worm had left in its wake. “If you’re willing to entertain the musings of a mere bard… I may have an idea.”

He quickly pitched his idea to the man, who began disseminating a fresh round of orders. It wasn't the best idea, but considering the lack of alternatives, it was quickly agreed to. Which was how Marcus, once again, found himself playing the role of bait.

Standing back from the fight, well over a hundred yards behind the Legion’s ranks. [Illusory Domain] was already active around him, with [Magnetic Presence] ready to go. All he had to do was wait.

The signal came in the form of a shouted command—more for his benefit than anyone else’s. Suddenly, the shield wall split in two like a pair of doors opening. The Legionnaires rapidly adjusted their positions to cover the moving men, working to keep the orcs off as they stepped backward. At the same time, Marcus began to strum an annoyingly catchy tune and project it toward the orcs. He altered his appearance to make himself larger and more brightly colored. A few sparkling fireworks spiraled into the air around him as well, just for good measure. If he was going to put on a show, then there was no sense in taking half-measures.

As hoped, their attention immediately turned to him. The braying masses charged forward, seeking out the now open path between themselves and the pesky bard. He kept up the illusions as he retreated a few steps, making absolutely sure that he had the enemy’s full attention. Not that they were particularly observant creatures during the best of times. Still, at this point, he wouldn't put anything past them.

Marcus kept backpedaling, feeling carefully with each step before letting the foot take his full weight. The slow pace was more than a little nerve-wracking, considering the absolute lack of regard the orcs showed for their own footing. But then again, that was exactly what they were hoping for.

His eyes locked onto the orc closest to him. He spotted the moment it began to fall, eyes widening in surprise. In an instant, he overlaid an illusory copy of the brute over it as it sank into the ground itself. He repeated the motion with the next, and the next, and the dozens after. By that point, Marcus was able to largely eschew detail in favor of simply falsifying an indistinct mass of orcs. None of those behind seemed to notice much. Why would they? Trampling their brethren was practically common practice.

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The clamoring of the horde continued, yet their shouts were joined by a different kind of scream now. One that seemed to grow quieter, fading into the distance far below. The two walls of Legionnaires acted as a funnel, harrying the orcs while also directing them neatly toward Marcus—and the massive pit that he was precariously perched above.

Marcus continued his backward progress, praying quietly to Apollo that the rickety scaffolding didn’t suddenly decide to give out. He’d obviously seen enough of the Legion’s construction to trust the thing. It was the only reason he was even out here, risking his neck in this idiotic scheme. But did it really have to creak with every single step? If he didn’t know better, he might’ve thought that particular touch was a joke the engineers made at his expense.

Further and further he retreated, adding a very impressive flamethrower illusion to “destroy” any orcs who got too close. Dozens of orcs fell into the pit below every second. Considering that he didn’t hear a single one hit the bottom, he felt rather confident that this fall would be lethal. At the very least, he didn’t expect the barbarians to return anytime soon. He only hoped that they weren’t also dropping them on the head of that worm or otherwise catching its attention somehow.

The tides were beginning to turn. More and more orcs careened to their deaths in an invisible waterfall of green with their brethren none the wiser. The few Legionnaire engineers that were here had finished repairing the wall and were working to erect more permanent barricades to replace the shield wall of their brethren. That would take the pressure off of them while also making it easier to maintain the funnel that they’d created. Marcus was just starting to think that they really did have the situation under control.

Then he felt a familiar shockwave ripple across the battlefield.

Marcus felt his fingers instantly become clumsier. The ground below him disappeared to reveal the gaping maw of the earth below. At the same time, the orcs slowed and stopped as their eyes cleared and the shimmering barrier before the Legionnaires faded. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

“Skill inactivation!” One of the centurions shouted. “Tighten formations!”

The situation changed. The Legionnaires did their best to adjust to the sudden turn of events, working to hold together as the orcs suddenly grew wise to their ruse. They turned to attack the Romans even as the ones nearest the pit scrambled to get away from its edge. Combined with the steady influx of bodies still coursing in from the tunnel, it made for complete chaos—chaos that was, unfortunately, far more difficult for the Legion to deal with.

Marcus had no attention to spare for them, though. His own attention fell to the blackness below. The only thing standing between him and a fall of indeterminate length was a few rickety planks of thin wood. Worse, it was no longer being held aloft by the considerable carpentry and construction skills of the Legionnaires that had been reinforcing it from the sides.

His heart raced as the wood began to creak angrily. The sound of splintering wood made it abundantly clear that it was time for Marcus to get a move on. Now.

Abandoning all pretense of caution, Marcus sprinted toward the far edge of the pit, leaving a trail of falling wood in his wake. He swore, wishing that at least [Mythchaser] had the decency to stick around and give him some extra speed during his flight. Unfortunately, there was no such carveout for his skill. It was only his rather impressive dexterity that allowed him to dart from foothold to foothold mere inches ahead of the falling scaffolding.

He’d almost made it back to solid ground when his luck ran out. Marcus leaped onto what had seemed like a solid piece of wood, only for its supports to fracture under his weight. A loud crack was all he heard before plunging down. His hands shot out to grab at the remaining scaffolds, scrambling up like a monkey, but climbing had never been his strong suit.

His hand met the edge of the pit, only for the rocky mountain to crumble away in his grip. He scrabbled for purchase. He was so close. So so close. If only—

“Milord!”

Marcus practically choked as he was yanked upward by his collar. He bounced about, quickly leaving the edge of the pit behind as he dangled from the mouth of his savior—that damned horse.

“Milord, are you ok?” Abel called from its back, concern edging his voice.

“Fine!” He wheezed back. “Air!”

The horse jerked its neck, practically tossing him onto its back with a smooth motion. Abel helped him onto the saddle behind himself as Marcus panted. “Thank… thank you.”

“Of course, milord. Thank you, Gerald!” He patted the horse’s flank. “He’s the one who grabbed you in time.”

Marcus could only nod. “Right. Thank you, Gerald. I promise I won’t complain the next time you steal my bread.”

The horse whinnied proudly. They wheeled away from the pit and the certain death it represented. Nearby, Marcus saw the Legion slowly pulling back, working to contain the orcs without their skills.

“What should we do, milord?” Abel asked. His attention stayed forward as he and his mount deftly navigated the rocky terrain. “How do we help?”

Marcus's expression tightened. This battle had turned from a temporary equilibrium, a simple battle of attrition that the Legionnaires were certain to win, to a far more dangerous situation in an instant. The orcs were still pouring out of the tunnel in an unstoppable tide, and without their skills they desperate gamble to plug the gap had failed.

The thought of simply fleeing did cross his mind. But as usual, that was a short-term solution with incredibly dangerous implications. If they didn't stop the orcs here, who was to say they wouldn't overrun Novara soon after? Not to mention that the Legionnaires in the pass itself would be trapped between two hostile forces, squashed between them like grapes between a hammer and an anvil.

He looked up at the horse. It met his gaze with its own, horizontal pupils showing that spark of eerie intelligence. It seemed to read what he was thinking. Then, it glanced at Abel.

Somehow, Marcus understood.

He sighed. He never wanted to be a hero. But apparently, this boy was rubbing off on him more than he wanted to admit.

“We turn back,” Marcus said with confidence. Abel looked at him with wide eyes, but before the boy could say a word, he continued. “I have an idea. But we need to find the edge of this effect. Then… I have a job for you, Abel.”

The boy's expression firmed up. He nodded seriously, wheeling his steed away from the immediate battle. It was a testament to Abel's trust that he didn't ask a single question. Luckily, Marcus didn't intend to let that trust be misplaced. Not this time.

It was time to be a damn hero.