For the Glory of Rome: Chronicles of an Isekai'd Legion

<pfont-weight: 400">Quintus stared at the supervisor for a long, long moment. Long enough that the man began to squirm beneath his gaze. When he eventually spoke, his tone was laced with deadly calm.

"That is certainly an idea. However, and I will speak plainly… why in the everloving fuck would we do that?"

"Well, er…" The supervisor began, sweating. "Normally, it would be unthinkable. Absolutely ludicrous."

"And it’s not here?" Quintus gestured toward the mines, his expression deadpan. Hundreds of Legionaries had died fighting those things the first time around. Those were the greatest losses that they’d taken in this world, made even more so because they lacked capable men to replenish their forces.

"It… may be the only option," the man said, adjusting his spectacles. "The mages that were keeping the ghouls sealed are no more, and finding more to replace them will be… difficult. In fact, I suspect the only reason the things haven’t broken out yet is because you culled so many of them."

"Are you suggesting that we can’t simply bury them?"

The supervisor shook his head vigorously. "No. It won’t work. Not forever, anyway. Without suppression runes like the ones that were in place before, they’ll find a way to dig themselves out. And if we don’t give them a path to follow, then there’s no telling whether they’ll make their own somewhere else."

Quintus gritted his teeth, remembering what it was like to be down in that tunnel. Being swarmed by beasts that could crawl on the ceilings and had claws vicious enough to rip a man’s throat out… He wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone.

"On the bright side, their numbers shouldn’t be quite as overwhelming as they were before," the supervisor tried. "It may be more manageable. You could even use them to farm experience!"

The supervisor stared at him uncomprehendingly. "No, it’s… it’s a term for an activity used to gain a large amount of experience quickly."

"I see," Quintus nodded. "And you suggest that killing such a readily available infestation of monsters would qualify as ’farming’ for us?"

"Exactly!" The supervisor nodded.

Quintus thought it over. On one hand, the idea was incredibly dangerous. The idea of letting a threat like that loose intentionally really was absurd. Then again, a large part of the danger stemmed from the sheer surprise of the assault. If they had more time to prepare and set men in position… perhaps it could work.

It was also worth considering the benefits. If the supervisor spoke the truth, then this would be a necessity to secure Stonester. Not only that, but it had the potential to accelerate the Legion’s growth. They’d seen firsthand how much of a difference a single level can make in their fighting abilities. It would be foolish to pass up a golden opportunity to earn more, even if it came with risks. True, they could level by fighting creatures in the forest, but they may well extinguish all life there before earning another.

"...Are there always so many ghouls?" Quintus asked. "Will we be constantly managing a fight on that scale?"

The man started to fidget nervously again. "Well… not exactly… You see, for any nexus like this, there are protocols in place to clear some of the monsters at least once a year. But, well, the combatants that would be sent to do such a thing have been indisposed with the war, and the former Baron was quite short on funds as things were…"

Quintus frowned as the man continued to speak. As much as he tried to sugarcoat the answer, it wasn’t hard to read between the lines. Safety protocols had been waived in exchange for more efficient mining. Over and over again.

The centurion had heard this story before. Some politician or local lord always wanted to squeeze out the most from their resources without a thought for the future. Corners were cut and people died because of it, mostly soldiers who were sent to clean up the inevitable mess. It’s what happened when governors decided to build an extra amphitheater or more lavish baths for themselves and didn’t fund border garrisons properly.

Still, there was one more thing he didn’t quite understand. One more pice of the puzzle that didn’t line up. Why wasn’t the Baron using this as a training opportunity himself? If he needed more powerful soldiers—or anyone else, for that matter—why not farm the ghouls?

When he asked the supervisor, the man grimaced. "It has been considered. However… it’s not worth it for most. The sheer numbers produced by any large nexus like this make it impossible for even a few teams of adventurers to handle for any real amount of time. As for higher level ones… well, they don’t gain enough experience to make farming worth their while. They just come through for clearings. Add that to the danger inherent in something going wrong, and, well…"

Quintus held up his hand, stalling the man as he considered the problem. Were the ghouls really that dangerous? In large numbers, undoubtedly. But with a prepared force, a few fortifications, appropriate chokepoints, and maybe some of those fancy new spears and slings to keep them off the ceiling… the risk would be greatly mitigated. Especially if they rotated men out efficiently.

"I will consider it," Quintus allowed. "Write up a report of what we just spoke about. Include timetables for a potential break, anticipated ghoul numbers, and any other figures that would be useful."

"Of course, sir!" The supervisor straightened. He seemed relieved to be given a task. "Right away."

Stolen novel; please report.

With that done, Quintus left the man. He’d need to speak with the first centurion of the cohort in charge of Stonester about the supervisor’s suggestion, maybe even Tiberius himself. The more he considered it, the more he came to see that it might be a golden opportunity. One that would allow them to close the gap between them and any potential enemies.

Idly, he wondered how common it was to find high-density populations of monsters like this. The closest thing they’d encountered so far was the swarm of spiders that infested the forest alongside that area boss. Did that mean there was an area boss in the mines as well? And if so, why had no one killed it yet?

Quintus shrugged to himself. That was probably something he should look into. But later.

***

Once he’d concluded his business at Stonester, Quintus assembled another squad. Not one of mere trainees, though. This one was an experienced group of Legionnaires.

He looked over his men with a discerning eye. Each wore a rough cloak of mottled greens and grays that seemed to obscure the shapes beneath as they moved. Aside from that singular detail, however, the rest of their equipment remained identical to that of a standard Legionnaire.

"Ready?" Quintus addressed them. At the chorus of "yes, sir’s", he nodded. "Good. We march."

The group set out at a blazing pace. Despite Quintus’s impressive [Marching] skill, these men were more than able to keep up with him. He expected nothing less. After all, the were some of their best scouts.

Their scouting was helping the Legion to better understand the lay of the land and its inhabitants. However, there were a few crucial places that they had yet to lay eyes on. One of them was the seat of the region—the baron’s estate. A place that they would certainly have to assault sooner or later.

The place was quite far away from his current position, further cementing the idea that the towns they’d taken so far were relatively small and fringe. It meant that they were in for a bit of a march. However, that was just one more reason for him to take such a mobile and stealthy group.

As they set off, Quintus considered his current methods. He’d noticed a gradual change in how not just he, but the entire Legion was operating. They were shifting to focus more on individual and small-group tactics than the standard massive coordinated efforts that they so specialized in.

It wasn’t something he was entirely comfortable with, but he saw the necessity for it. Tiberius was having to update their standard operating procedures to match the times and the world they’d found themselves in. Still, such changes were something that generally happened very gradually over the course of centuries or decades, though, not months or weeks.

Quintus had been around long enough to go through a few different iterations of various weapons, equipment, and even tactics, changing as better options were discovered. But with the advent of the System, things had changed even more rapidly. Already, the teamwork of an entire century of Legionnaires was not as required for the most common threats they faced. A contubernium, sure, but not much more than that.

That wasn’t to say they could completely abandon their old tactics. Their ability to efficiently work together at scale was still an advantage that few others enjoyed. In fact, the resident denizens of this world seemed allergic to working together in any meaningful capacity. But setting every man to work building camp fortifications when a specialized group could accomplish it in half the time and with a fraction of the people… it simply no longer made sense.

Of course, the other major change coming their way was a more pressing one: that of recruitment. There were no reinforcements or replacements coming. Ever. They could no longer go out on a nine month campaign and return to restock and resupply with fresh recruits or experienced officers. No, while they were building that infrastructure, they had to recruit or promote from within.

It was a problem for a few reasons. First, the situation meant they had a far smaller pool of candidates to choose from if they wanted to promote. As for those officers and centurions at the top of the hierarchy… what room did they have to grow? Until they established other legions or a formal government, all of their men were essentially stuck in their current positions. Which was a problem, considering that some of their officers and centurions had become increasingly risk averse.

Quintus knew that this was a mindset that couldn’t continue. He had brought it up a few times with other centurions, and to be fair, there was a certain logic to not using certain centurions or officers in battle, especially those who were more logistics-heavy in their expertise. But Quintus also knew that they needed every man they could use, especially right now.

It wasn’t just that, either. Centurions in particular were valuable because of their experience and expertise. But now that skills and skill levels needed to be considered… if they didn’t continually put themselves into situations where they were forced to improve, they would be left behind. The difference between a centurion with a couple of decades of experience and a new recruit was vast, but no longer insurmountable. Not if centurions failed to push themselves.

On the other hand, Quintus could only imagine what would happen the difference of a soldier who played it safe from recruitment, who would maybe have never made centurion, versus a centurion who pushed themselves into danger and took every opportunity to improve their skills. One who upgraded them to higher rarities and ended up with levels in the hundreds… they wouldn’t even be comparable.

And if there were no such paragons in the Legion to push themselves forward, the Legion would not be able to stand up to the true powerhouses of this world. They might not have seen any yet, but Quintus knew they were out there. The adventurers they had fought were only the beginning.

It was with that mindset that he pushed further into enemy territory, taking on additional risk, but for good reason. His goal was to make it to the Baron’s seat. Not necessarily inside, but near enough to observe it and examine its defenses. And if he and his men managed to improve their skills because of it, all the better.

They soon left the roads, instead traveling single file through fields of waist-high grass. Next to the scouts, Quintus couldn’t help but feel like an oafish elephant trampling through a forest. He was stealthy, but nowhere near as good as these men. Luckily, once the area gained some rocks and trees to hide behind, he felt less exposed.

In a shockingly short time, the walls of a decent-sized city appeared on the horizon. The Legionnaires lined up along a ridge, each looking out over the bustling city. Merchants’ carts and small groups of people made their way in and out of massive gates, heading to and fro on various kinds of business.

Quintus turned to the scouts. "We will set up an observation point here. Let’s see what intelligence we can gather."

The scouts did as they were bid, concealing their position from prying eyes. Quintus settled in, preparing himself for potentially days of observation to get better ideas of population numbers, goods coming in and out, and other such information. Yet it wasn’t even a day before they saw something that demanded immediate action.

Movement in and out of the gate halted, with those wishing to enter the city standing to one side. After a moment, it became clear why. A long column of soldiers began marching out, making their way down the winding roads.

Quintus’s eyes narrowed. The men were clearly not professionals. They were poorly disciplined, even more poorly equipped, and nowhere near prime fighting age. But even more important than that… they were heading east.

He watched with the scouts for a while longer before giving his orders. "Let’s go. We must inform the Legatus. It seems war is on the horizon."