City of Fallen Souls: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 3) by Jez Cajiao (fb2 epub reader .txt) 📕

having not realized I’d finished it, and she smiled at me, leaning forward to kiss me gently.

“Get some sleep, okay? I need you to be in top form tonight. The gangs are going to bring something evil, I just know it.” With that, she slipped out into the corridor, closing the door gently behind her.

I checked the clock on the wall. Seeing that it was just past six, and the first fight was at ten, I could sleep for three and a half hours, if I was lucky. I laid back, letting out an involuntary moan as I settled onto the pillow, and swore, come what may, even if I had to fight a dragon, or another goddamn SporeMother on acid, I was taking the damn pillow with me when I returned to the Tower.

Chapter Seventeen

I was brought slowly to consciousness by a heavenly aroma, and I raised my groggy head to inspect the room, before blinking to make sure I was actually seeing what I thought I was.

I sat bolt upright, throwing the blankets aside and heaving myself up to sit on the edge of the bed. Before I realized what I was doing, I’d grabbed one triangular cut, thick wedge of bread, filled with bacon and topped with as close a match to brie as it was probably possible to get.

I bit down hard and moaned through a mouthful of pure heaven. Bringing up my other hand, I sniffed the steam rising from the cup and sighed in contentment.

“Coffee…” I sighed contentedly, my eyes closed still as I savored the first sip and found it rich, the flavors subtly layered, with a hint of smokiness. “Oh, thank you god…” I whispered, opening my eyes to find Oracle perched across from me, her face split by a huge smile.

“Is it right? I tried to explain it to the arena cooks…” she said, and I smiled ecstatically around another huge bite.

I hated people who spoke with their mouth full, so I didn’t answer verbally. I just nodded emphatically as I powered my way through the sandwich, barely coming up for air until I was licking the melted cheese and butter from my fingertips.

“Soooo good…” I mumbled, then took a sip of my coffee while settling back against the wall and radiating contentment like a nuclear reactor radiated weird-looking kids.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve that, Oracle, but fuck me... thank you,” I said eventually, beaming at her.

“You deserve it, and more!” she insisted. “The orders are there…” She nodded to a fresh stack of papers. I read them quickly, nodding approvingly at the sections that had been added, and I scrawled my signature at the bottom before rolling them up and sliding them into the case that Oracle handed me.

“I’ll give them to the fliers and make sure they get to the Legion before the fights are over tonight,” Oracle said determinedly and I smiled appreciatively, thanking her.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, to be honest,” I admitted, and she smiled back at me.

“Now, you’ve got an hour before the first fight. Augustus said you’d need time to digest your food, and time to wake up properly, so this was as long as we could let you sleep… oh, and he’s got some armor for you outside.”

“Armor?” I asked confusedly.

“Yes, lad, armor!” he cried, opening the door and barging in with a Legion breastplate in one hand. He was fully dressed, his armor’s silvery steel set atop a layer of black leather. He dropped the breastplate onto the table next to me, and other Legionnaires followed him in.

“Oracle, if you wouldn’t mind, m’lady, we will dress him.” He bowed his head respectfully to her, and she looked at me, then back at them, confused.

“I’ve been able to dress myself for a long time now…” I said, a sardonic smile twisting my lips as I glanced at the Centurion.

“Not like this,” Augustus said, a half-smile curving his own lips. “It’s traditional. A new Legionnaire is dressed by his brothers and sisters the first time he goes to war, so that he… and they… know he won’t have to worry about that, at least.” He threw me a pair of shorts from the table, and I pulled them on, standing as he and the others came to surround me. “Tonight, Lord Jax of Dravith, you are a Legionnaire of the Empire, going out to his first battle as a member of the Legion,” He said, pulling a leather undershirt over my head and tugging it down into place, while another Legionnaire took the straps at the sides and pulled them tight. “We can’t be with you, out on the sand of the arena, but we’re with you always,” He continued, gripping my shoulder tight enough to nearly bruise the bone.  “Remember this, as you face the worst the gangs have to offer. You’re no longer a man alone. Now, and forever more, you’re a Legionnaire of the Empire.” He finished, stepping back as I stepped into the pants another held for me.

It was strange… it was always going to be a bit weird, being dressed by men and women I didn’t really know; that was a given. But the care and respect they showed in the process... it wasn’t the way that some of them had looked at me until now, like a god made flesh, or like they weren’t sure of me and thought they might be making a mistake. Now they looked different. Proud.

They pulled my arm guards on, cinching them tight, and I immediately missed the hidden daggers that my bracers held. The belt was thick, black leather, with my sheathed gladius attached to it, instead of the one I’d brought with me from Earth, which held the razorwire surprise that had helped me so often.

I felt them pulling the toggles tight on the hips of my pants and attaching armored greaves and chainmail to hooks embedded in the leather underclothes. Plates