Titan: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 4) by Jez Cajiao (free ebooks for android .TXT) 📕

Thorn had set up a mirror and was going around tightening straps and marking the correct places for them to be set to, while explaining carefully how, and in which order, I needed to remove them.

“As our Lord, I don’t expect you to maintain your armor, not the way the standard Legionnaire does, of course. Even so, it would be good for you to understand the various parts and how they work and are repaired, just in case of accidents in the field,” she pointed out.

I nodded my thanks and lifted my helm off, turning it around in my hands and examining it.

“So, when I first met Augustus, he had a great big plume on the top of his helmet…” I said, quirking an eyebrow at Thorn.

“It’s removable,” she said simply. “When it’s attached, it looks great, but…”

“But it catches on things, cleans ceilings of spiders, and can give the enemy an easy way to expose your throat?” I asked, and she snorted, nodding.

“We call ‘em ‘cleaners’, as they either clean a roof, a seat, or clean your head right back, so that the blood can get out…”

“Well, they look great, they do, but they’re insane. Having something on your armor that doesn’t add to its defense, and in fact, makes it easier to kill you? Why?” I asked, shaking my head.

“For tradition’s sake,” Romanus said shrugging. “When I took over as Prefect, the General and I agreed that they are useless beyond formal occasions. Augustus wore his when he came to greet you, but none of the rest did, and they’ve been packed away since. Prior to my own rise to Prefect, and my predecessor’s rise to General, they were worn at all times… where you might get spotted by higher officers…”

“So the Legionnaires took them off as soon as they left the city?” I asked, snorting at his mischievous smirk. “How about we just accept that I’m very informal, I don’t need sunshine blowing up my arse, and I sure as hell don’t need plumes and trumpets and so on?” I offered, and Thorn let out a groan of thanks, calling out in a loud voice: “Everyone! Lose the ‘cleaners.’ Lord Jax says he doesn’t want to see them!”

Instantly, there arose a chorus of grunts, laughter, and general relief, and I looked at Thorn questioningly.

“Legion Tribune Alistor had ordered that all Legionnaires make sure their plumes were ready for parade, at all times, ‘just in case’, last night, sir,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “We had the excuse of the armor for yourself and your people to avoid doing it yet, but we were looking at a minimum of a week of work for all of us, dying and reattaching horsehair to fix them all up. Most legionnaires packed them away at the bottom of their kit bags when we left the city…”

“Nice,” I said wincing. “Okay, formal declaration time, then.” I glanced over at Romanus. “Do you see any real use for the plumes?” I asked, and he shook his head firmly, as did Restun. “Then as of now, I formally declare the plumes to be obsolete. They serve no purpose in my Legion, and therefore must be discarded,” I stated firmly. “If you see a real requirement for them for formal events, I will permit the officers to retain them, but unless you feel that need…” I paused, and Restun, Romanus, and Thorn all shook their heads. “Excellent. Scrap them all, then.”

Attention, Legionnaires!

As of now, by Imperial Decree, all plumes are declared obsolete and are to be discarded. No longer shall the Legion wear them, by the Order of High Lord Jax, Imperial Scion and Lord of Dravith.

The notification that overrode mine, and every other Legionnaire’s, vision made me flinch for a second, but the cheers rising in the distance and all around made me grin, even as I silently wished I could see Alistor’s face right then. Idiot, wasting time on that shit, I thought to myself.

“You just earned a place in every Armorer’s nightly prayers with that.” Thorn beamed so widely that I started to worry the top of her head might fall off.

“I’ll take them! I can always use more interventions with the Gods!” I laughed. “Anyway, anything else we need to look at, Romanus, or are you happy with those orders?” He thought for several seconds before speaking up.

“Loot,” he said seriously. “As adventurers, I know loot gets divided up equally. For soldiers, they receive a portion of the loot, while the commander takes the rest. In the Legion, all loot is handed in, and depending on the loot, occasionally a bonus in coin is paid out. Whatever isn’t needed by the Legion is put up for auction, offered first to the Legionnaires, and if they don’t want it, it goes to the city auction houses. It’ll be in the Legionnaires heads that this might change, with you being here now, so best to address it straight away. Are you happy for this to continue as it is?” he asked, and I rubbed my chin in consideration.

“Yes, and no,” I said finally. “If there’s something powerful, magical or otherwise, the treasury gets first refusal on it, and we pay a fair bonus for finding it. Otherwise, for gold and mundane valuables, since the Legionnaires will be receiving pay as well, they get to keep half. The rest goes to the treasury. Does that seem fair?” I asked, and Romanus started in surprise, gaping at Restun. They exchanged a long look then turned back to me.

“Half is incredibly generous, Jax… a Legionnaire usually receives ten percent…” Romanus said slowly. “Perhaps a slightly lower amount would be appropriate?”

“I’ll be taking the magical items they find for the treasury, depending on what they are,” I pointed out.

“They’ve always given those up,” Romanus countered. “How about twenty-five percent?” he suggested tactfully. “I know that it seems fair to give them half, and it