Fifty thousand Legionaries and a hundred thousand auxiliaries made up the army under the Grand Marshal’s command. A mighty force that any in the Dungeon would fear to confront.
This level of commitment wouldn’t normally be needed, even to annihilate a powerful Mythic grade monster. But when a powerful Mythic grade monster began to populate the Dungeon with its own race of offspring? Such a thing could not be allowed to stand.
The Consul had spoken, and so the Legion had moved. Supported from behind by the alliance of Old Races, they had made a stand. The spawn of the Dungeon could not be allowed to proliferate out of control, lest the world fall into ruin.
Hundreds of ‘monger bolts arced through the air every moment, the distant explosions ringing out in a constant patter. The heat from the combined fireballs of the mages could be felt even in the command tent, and after just ten minutes of the barrage, large sections of the tree roots had already caught flame.
Rianus stood on the front line, watching the conflagration grow as the combined ordnance of the Legion flew over his head. His left hand bore his heavy assault shield, locked into position with the soldiers on his left and right, presenting an unbreakable wall to the enemy. He kept his right hand near the hilt of his gladius. The time would soon come when he would need it.
“Advance!” came the order from the centurion behind him, repeated down the line.
As one, the legionaries stepped forward, off the island and onto the great ramp that had been formed of mana only moments ago. In that moment, he felt invincible. His full suit of Abyssal armour flooded his limbs with strength, and the thousands of brothers and sisters at his back assured him.
Only victory was possible this day. The Legion’s might was on the march, nothing could stand in their way.
Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.
The steady march of the massed ranks was precise as a drum beat, their metal boots slamming down into the fresh stone in perfect sync.
“Shieeeeelds high!” roared the centurions.
“HAH!” bellowed the soldiers as the front ranks hoisted their shields higher, till the top edge sat just below their eye line.
It felt as if the world was ending over their heads. A rain of fire and death the likes of which these Legionaries may never see again.
In front of Rianus, the great tree loomed. Kilometres high, as thick as a castle, it was a monstrous thing to behold. Fitting, seeing as it was a monster. A living creature, born from mana to enact the Dungeon’s will. Today would be its last.
“BRACE!” the centurions shouted in unison.
Though he saw nothing, Rianus and every legionary down the line acted instantly. They stopped the march, dug in their heels and brought their free hands up to support the shields in front.
Not a moment too soon.
A tangle of roots erupted through the stone in front of them, vicious ropes of plant matter as strong as steel whipped at them, trying to curl over their shields and cut through their armour.
“ATTACK!” came the order.
Rianus dropped his right hand and snatched his gladius from its sheath. With reflexes beyond those of a mortal, he slashed out five times in under a second, the enchanted and hardened Abyssal steel of his blade slicing through the roots like butter. With a shout, he dashed, hundreds of kilograms of legionary killing machine launching forward, shield high and blade nothing more than a flicker of light.
Up and down the line, hundreds of legionaries engaged with the plants, cutting them down as they appeared, but the tree wasn’t done.
Something pushed up the water on either side of the ramp, a vast presence rising from the depths. A vast amount of water bulged upwards as enormous pods breached the surface, splitting open as they did so.
A wave of green gas emerged and swept over the legionaries in an instant, but that didn’t sway them. With their modified physiology and the protections of their armour, they were near immune to poison. What took Rianus’ focus was the many rows of serrated needles nestled within the flesh of the flowers.
“SHIELDS HIGH!”
He didn’t need to be told twice. The moment he got his shield up he felt a rapid series of impacts that forced his arm up against his chest plate. With his view blocked, the vines emerged once more to curl around and try to slide inside his armour, but he was vigilant. The gladius slashed out once more, cutting away the seeking roots while he endured the barrage.
A moment later, the pods were struck by precise artillery fire, exploding in a burst of flame that caused hunks of smouldering plant matter to rain down over the bridge.
Once more, the Legionaries braced themselves and began to advance across the gap that separated them from the trunk of the tree. The monster clearly didn’t want them to approach and Rianus was alert, expecting more tricks with every step.
Surprisingly, there wasn’t another attack until they had almost reached the other side. Rising from beneath the titanic roots came an unorganised mob of creatures that could only be described as gnarled trees come to life. Amongst them were enormous, lumbering figures, twice as tall as the others.
These must be the ‘children’ the tree had been producing.
The new creatures strode forward, determination and rage brimming from every inch of their frames.
Rianus grinned as he advanced in lock step with his brothers and sisters of the Legion, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade.
This would be fun.
