City of Fallen Souls: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 3) by Jez Cajiao (fb2 epub reader .txt) 📕
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- Author: Jez Cajiao
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“Three!” Romanus bellowed, and he set off running, the horrible feeling of leaving his home, his safe, if dull, existence falling away behind him as he ran forward. The Legionnaires on every side of him moved at the same time, their jingling, clattering trot reassuring to their Prefect as he felt his left pauldron flapping. I’ll have to secure that… damn shameful showing, Romanus! he berated himself as he tried to ignore it. His standard Legion shield weighed heavy on his arm; his gladius held proudly upright as he ran.
Adrenaline filled him as he saw the fear on the faces of the pox-ridden city guard and their mob as the Legion advanced. His men had done their job, as not a single remaining officer of the Guard made a sound. The Legion scouts had quietly moved into action, restraining the city guards efficiently upon the signal from the parapet.
He ran in the middle of his Legion; the noncombatants and support people were protected in the middle. The next level out was flooded by Legionnaires laden down with every damn bag, container, or satchel of holding they could find, and lesser men and women would have already collapsed under the weight they carried. The final outermost ring was made up of the fittest, fastest, and most deadly soldiers the Legion had, and they’d been ordered to show no mercy.
A stop, a hesitation even, would slow the crowds around them. That delay would only grow, each person slowing slightly more, until the back was forced to a standstill, and that was something they couldn’t afford.
“May the gods forgive me for what I do in the service of the Empire this day…” Romanus muttered, before shouting out to the people around him. “Legion, let’s pick up the pace! Primus, I expect you to make this march a thing of legend!”
All around him, he heard groans rising, swiftly muffled as Restun, Primus of the Legion called out. His powerfully built frame allowed him to effortlessly project his voice so that every member of the Legion heard him clearly.
Romanus had wondered privately if the Primus was even mortal, having held the role when he’d personally come up through the ranks, and judging by the look of him now, he’d probably hold it long after Romanus was dead. The Primus was an unholy terror to a Legionnaire that wasn’t up to scratch; an unstoppable, inexhaustible man who, it’d been quietly speculated for years, was secretly a Gnomish automaton, wearing a flesh suit. Whatever the truth was, the joy in his voice was clear.
“You hear that, Legionnaires?” he bellowed. “This march was already going to be the stuff of tales, but now I get to make it legendary! We’ve got a mile and a half to cover across the city, hostile territory, and we’re going to do it in record time!”
Groans rose, only to be squashed by the Primus’ glare.
“I thought I heard a sound of dissent!” he boomed. “It must be because we’re not singing! Come on, Legionnaires!” With that, he drew in a deep breath and belted out the first verse, the ancient marching song echoing off the buildings as the scouts sprinted to catch up.
“We’re the Legion!” he bellowed.
“The Mighty Legion, it’s true!” everyone chorused back to him.
“When the foul beasts come!”
“The Legion comes, too!”
“When you shit yourself in bed…”
“The Legion comes to make them dead!”
The song was one of many Legion cadences; it was old, it barely rhymed, and it was never sung where civilians could hear it, but today, all the old rules were thrown aside, and the Primus knew it. He started the second verse, and Romanus couldn’t help but grin as the memories came flooding back.
“When the Legion meets your girl…!”
***
Durg sat alone on the edge of a section of the street, peering down into the river. He’d been there for over a day now; the darkness, the rain, and the occasional noises and flashes in the distance were of no matter to him.
The important people would decide what to do about things like that. No, he was just here to figure out what to do about the big shiny thing.
His daddy had told him, ‘One day, you’ll get the chance to get away from all of this. You’ll see your chance shinin’ like copper in the muck; take it and run!’ And now, Durg thought it just might be that day. He’d been crossing the bridge, when he’d found some food the carts had thrown out. He’d gotten to it before the rats could, and he’d been walking along, picking the tasty maggots out and thinking about how his luck was changing, when he saw it.
It was big and tall, like a man made out of stone. It had walked off the edge of the path into the sea and vanished, with loads of guards chasing it.
Fair enough; maybe this was normal, he thought? He didn’t usually come down to the harbor, so maybe that happened all the time? He’d just been surprised when it didn’t come back up, because it had a big shiny thing on its chest, and he knew you didn’t leave shiny things alone, not even down in the water, so he’d watched, waiting for the tide to go out.
It had just come in, but that was okay. His daddy had told him before, ‘If it’s in now, it’ll go out later. Just gotta wait.’
So that’s what he did. He climbed down onto the stones near the harbor and waited, watching the water where it had disappeared. The sun had come up, and then it went back down, but that didn’t mean much to him. Besides getting hungry and thirsty, nothing else had changed.
He was trying to decide if this was like the things he saw when he was asleep,
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