CHAPTER ELEVEN: NIGHT IN VILLLA ORE MUNDI

  “Why are we up again?” A legionnaire complained bitterly in the darkness. There was a shuffle and the sound of a flesh hitting flesh, someone had slapped the complaining legionnaire as silence reigned once more.

  Cassius fought the urge to shift around as waited with Marcus in the deepest shadows of one of the pillars that ran along the back of the house. The roof they supported were covered in leafy vines that fell along the sides to create a shallow veil. Behind every column, watching over the small wall that ran along the edge of the cliffside, were legionnaires. Dozens of them had been crammed into the shadows with the rest of the century wedged into the back manor rooms.

  Clouds passed by the wide moon, pale light illuminated the walls nearly as well as day, but the clouds covered the moon moments later. Back and forth the light came as the heavens shifted constantly, long moments the world hidden only to be revealed by shafts of moonlight a second later.

  Cassius stayed still, eyes constantly moving along the edge of the wall. In between the moments of darkness and light, they appeared. Clawed hands gripped the edge of the wall and pulled hulking shapes up and over with ease, landing in silence along the well manicured grounds.

  “LIGHTS!” Lucilia roared and torches snapped into being, burning bright as they illuminated the grounds. Cassius moved from behind the pillar as the rest of the legionnaires flowed around and formed a battleline. Doors were thrown open behind them, Cassius could feel the weight of his brothers and sisters as he ran down the steps to stand in formation.

  Shields slammed together as spears slid across the top of them, angled points aimed directly at the line of imps that pulled themselves over the wall. It was a mass of muscle and flesh, teeth and talons with glowing red eyes as they milled around without thought. Lucilia's voice boomed across the formation, cutting across the clatter of steel, wood, and chittering sounds of the imps.

  “FORWARD!” Cassius moved with the practiced ease that had been drilled into him. A shuffling step that kept the shield line locked in perfect sync as they cut across the distance, pushing the line of imps against the wall. More of them were coming over the wall, piling on top of each other without room to move.

  “[THRUST]!” Red light gathered around the speartips, mana drifting off of them before they plunged forward. A thunderclap rolled across the field as mana discharged as monsters disintegrated. Blood splashed across the stone wall as imps screamed, a kill notification flashed by his eye, but Cassius dismissed it without looking.

  “[THRUST]!” The command came again and red light filled the world as more imps were turned to pulp. Cassius’ breathing was heavy, his armor restricted him as he felt his mana begin to dip.

  “ROTATE!” Lucilia’s command was followed with precision. In the wake of the devastating ripple wave of mana, the front line stepped back, turning to allow the next line forward. It was done in a split second, not allowing a single one of the imps a second to step forward. Cassius stepped through the lines of legionnaires until he was in the back of the formation, by the steps of the manor.

  Lucilia stood with her attendant in full armor, looking over the battle with a keen eye, hand resting on the pommel of her sword. Free now of the chaos of the battlelines Cassius could hear the sounds of fighting, traveling through the manor. Between panting breaths Cassius turned to Marcus.

  “An attack at the front?”

  Marcus shrugged, looked through the open door and shuffled himself so he was watching the dark maw of the doors. The longer Cassius looked at the door the more he thought he saw the darkness move, twist back and forth. Sweat rolled down his head and into his eyes, stinging as he shifted back and forth.

  “As long as the [Guardsmen] and nobles hold the front of the building, it’ll be fine,” Hostus, the attendant, said. The man was dressed in legionnaire armor, but carried a longer than average sword on his hip. There was a calmness to him as if the battle was simply a luncheon he’d arranged.

  “I think we’ll keep an eye on the door anyways,” Marcus said. Valeria and Pius both were leaning against their pillars, drinking water from the canteens as they watched the door with Marcus. Cassius tore his eyes away from the interior of the manor and back toward the battle.

  “It is a slaughter, not a battle,” Cassius said; he watched as the imps were turned into paste over and over again. Lucilia rotated her lines with precision, not allowing any to exhaust themselves. In a few minutes Cassius would be called forward again to stand in the front line, but he had a minute before that.

  “They are weak, none above level five,” Hostus said. The attendant seemed bored, leaning over to talk with him while never taking his eyes off the fight.

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  “You have a skill?” Cassius asked, looking away from the fight to look over the attendant.

  “One of the reasons I hold this position. A fortuitous drop on a beast that prowled through a gate when I first deployed. It has been a blessing,” Hostus replied.

  “None of these beasts drop skills, I’ve noticed.”

  Hostus looked over from where he was watching and tilted his head for a moment before nodding to himself. Cassius wondered what the man saw as he looked back toward the battle.

  “Skill drops are rare for any monster, but generally weak creatures don’t have them. Not until after level ten, then they start becoming more common. It simply could be that the imps don’t have enough levels yet,” Hostus said.

  More crashes and shouting were heard, a scream coming that ended suddenly. Hostus slowly turned to look at the doorway and spat a curse as he drew his sword. Marcus wasn’t far behind the attendant as he barked his orders.

  “Form line!”

  The command only took a few seconds to complete, Cassius lined up next to Marcus, shield to shield as they stared at the empty doorway. Hostus cursed again before shouting toward Lucilia.

  “Enemy in the rear!” The centurion gave no sign of noticing, or none that Cassius could see as he kept his eyes locked on the black square of the manor door. A cloud drifted through the moonlight, briefly blackening the world.

  “Shit,” Marcus hissed. It was as soon as the light died that they came through the doorway. Metal crashed against Cassius’ shield and he stabbed wildly with his spear. Hot copper blood filled the air as he felt the line of legionnaires swell, the weight of the charge against a few threatening to send them back down the stairs and into the rear line of the formation holding the imps back.

  Another blow crashed against Cassius' shield, threatening to rip it from his hand as his spear slid back and forth along the rim, stabbing and killing whatever it was that was throwing themselves against him. Manic screams filled the air, inhuman in their savagery, and fear built in Cassius as he took a half step back, the weight against him too much.

  A line opened along the shield wall and grimy fingers wedged inside of it, grasping the edge and pulling. Locked in a tug of war, Cassius dropped his spear and drew the gladius, the movement smooth even as adrenaline screamed through his veins. He stabbed through the gap in the shields, the light hardly enough to see what it was he was stabbing at.

  Another scream rang out, inches from his face, filled with pain and rage. Cassius didn’t stop stabbing even as his hand became slick with blood. The pressure on the shield eased and Cassius locked his shield back in line, stabbing with the gladius over the top of the tall shield, feeling resistance as the blade found something.

  The cloud passed by on the evening breeze and pale moonlight illuminated a scene of horror. It was citizens in dirty clothes, ragged farmers, travelworn merchants, and more people of the republic who pressed against the line. Their eyes were void of color, blank white slates as froth formed on the edge of their mouths as they continued to wail.

  “Dark magic,” Marcus growled. The veteran continued to stab with his spear, killing without hesitation.

  “Look out!” Hostus cried. Cassius looked over his shield to see a massive bear of a man, bare to his waist with runic symbols carved into his flesh. Nearly seven feet tall, muscles rippled as he lifted a monstrous mallet that looked like the majority of a tree.

  “Reinforce!” Marcus cried out and Cassius obeyed instantly, his skill flared to life and covered his shield in red mana. Up and down the line shields gathered strength as the giant bounded over. Two of the manic people were hit as the giant swung his tool, their bodies tossed to the side in broken heaps.

  A shudder ran through the line as the mallet hit the shield wall at the edge of the line, two men down from Cassius. The legionnaire’s shield splintered and the man was tossed back down the stairs, bounced in a jangle of metal, and came to a boneless halt on the grass. Hostus was there in an instant, blade out as he struck at the giant.

  The man reared back, blood flowing down one great arm as it flopped uselessly as the attendant reared back and kicked the man in the crux between his legs. Armored boots met soft flesh and the giant bent in half as the sword swept around in a shimmer of steel.

  Like a felled tree the giant slowly toppled over, slamming into the ranks of the dead as Hostus continued to cut and slash, holding the hole in the line by himself. Cassius ripped his eyes from the sight and focused on what was in front of him as the horde of civilians slowed to a trickle and finally stopped.

  Bodies were piled up high around the back door, blood flowed freely down the white marble steps in a river as groans of pain came up from those still living. Cassius sucked in great heaving breaths of frigid air, burning his throat and lungs as he kept looking for the next attack.

  “The bodies!” a legionnaire cried out and Cassius stole his attention away from the doorway and back toward the pile of bodies. Infernal red light started to burn, clothes sodden with blood burned away to reveal more symbols that had been carved into flesh.

  “Those are the same as the granary!” Cassius yelled, his voice rising above the din of confused muttering.

  From the dead giant’s body the light grew brighter as the corpse shriveled, muscled deflated, skin became leather, the smell of burnt hair filled the air. Claws emerged from the runes, gripped either side of the dead man’s chest, and pulled itself free.

  “That’s not an imp,” Marcus said as the new monsters crawled out of the corpses. A massive maw of teeth came free of the body, biting and tearing away the flesh of the dead. The monster’s body wriggled, shaking and bulging as it consumed the dead, growing larger and larger by the second. Segmented, dark-yellow pieces of bug like carapace formed its long body, dozens of small legs tearing and grabbing as they hauled themselves free.

  In the stunned silence of the moment, nearly twenty of the summoned bugs had consumed the entirety of the dead humans and finished killing the wounded. Cracking bone replaced the sounds of crying as Cassius felt bile rise in his stomach.

  “What are you waiting for! Kill them! Line forward!” Lucilia commanded, her voice inches from Cassius’ ear.