Quintus blinked as the light around him changed. Suddenly, it was a different dawn. An earlier one. Not only that, but the sunlight was being filtered through a dense forest canopy around him.

With a start, he realized that he stood in a clearing of tall grass, its blades fluttering slightly in the breeze. It was not the open plains and former battlefield by the Metaurus River. Rather, this was scenery he'd expect to see in Gaul. Where was he? Perhaps he'd died and gone to Elysium? Perhaps some enemy had caught them unawares, putting an arrow through his skull? It seemed improbable, but what else could it be?

Looking down at himself, Quintus quickly took stock of the situation. He realized that he still bore all of his equipment, then surveyed his surroundings. On the ground nearby sat a man with a book, his jaw hanging open in surprise. It took a single glance to tell the man was not a real threat, at least not on the battlefield. He was alone and dressed like the fops that plagued Rome. Quintus put him out of his mind and focused on more relevant matters. Specifically, the animal leaping toward him and the men charging out of the forest.

The man with the book let out a shout of warning. Quintus wheeled around to face a black cat that looked like a bigger version of a female lion pouncing at him. A quick arc of his sword slashed through the cat's neck, carrying it to the ground as he rolled out of the way of its claws. He bashed another aside and stabbed it in the head before looking to the next threat.

A group of half-armed figures emerged from the treeline, sporting bows and poorly-maintained swords. Despite their lacking equipment, it was at least consistent between individuals. Quintus would have guessed they were guards or soldiers of some sort. But if that were the case, they were obviously not up to the task. A city needed men to protect it. Not these half-baked, soft-armed weaklings.

One of the archers amongst the barbarians loosed an arrow, but the Primus Pilus had his scutum ready. The curved rectangle of hardened metal and wood raised to meet the shot, deflecting it. He felt a moment of surprise at its accuracy, given the sorry state of the bow, but the force was severely lacking.

Coming back to his feet, he deflected another arrow, sending it skittering to the side. He didn't have time to marvel at the scenery or the now dying cats at his feet. Right now, he was under attack.

Suddenly, Quintus heard a familiar sound at his back. With a quick glance, he confirmed it. The first rank of the Legion had appeared behind him. How or why were questions for later. Right now, they were under fire from a hostile force in an unknown location with no officer present. So the first centurion did what he was trained to do—go on offense.

"Shields!"

He shouted the order to the men who had just arrived. Their training kicked in and a thundering clash sounded as the shields interlocked into a tortoise formation at his back. It stiffened his spine with confidence.

"Advance!"

The shield wall began taking steps forward, toward their aggressors. The line seamlessly parted for Quintus to lock in his shield as they approached. Together, they deflected a few more arrows that the increasingly panicked archers loosed their way.

As soon as they realized the futility of their efforts, the enemy barbarians started running. The next rank of Legionnaires appeared behind Quintus's line and immediately locked their shields, but a quick order had them spinning around and watching their flanks for other threats. Around five seconds later, the third rank of Legionnaires appeared.

Quintus kept everyone moving forward so that the rest of the Legion would have space to arrive, assuming they would continue to appear. Even then, they'd be hard-pressed to fit everyone in this clearing. So until an officer showed up and told him otherwise, his priority was clear—to secure the surrounding area.

Several more orders were issued, and the second cohort split off to watch the perimeter and prevent any more monsters from sneaking up on them. The rest of the four cohorts marched after the barbarian town guards. Securing the area might be simple, but the biggest obstacle would be an opposing force. They needed to follow them back to their base and determine the threat. If it was in the immediate area, they'd secure it.

Of course, it was always possible that they were being led into an ambush, but that seemed unlikely to Quintus. The patrol seemed genuinely startled and unprepared for the Legion's appearance, for one. Also, if the ambushing force were similarly trained and equipped, he had no doubt that they'd fall easily even to a fraction of the Legion's men. But without knowledge of the area and its people, it would be impossible to tell for sure.

Large-scale tactical decisions like that were the kind of thing that was best left for officers. But with no officer present, raw aggression was their best course of action. Especially if there were more threats about.

Quintus didn't change their orders, and the ranks continued marching forward up the road. The barbarians sprinted back, slowly pulling away from the Legion in their haste. It probably meant their base was close, Quintus thought. Otherwise, they would never be able to maintain that pace. Though panicked men weren't known for their rational thinking. Either way, if his men kept marching quickly, they wouldn't get too far. Following even this pitiful excuse for a road would be good enough to manage that.

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Quintus ordered the men to move slightly faster. The encroaching forest forced them to adjust their formation, moving in a narrow column down the path. Still, the wall held steady, and they could maintain this pace for hours, even if they would be slightly more vulnerable to arrows. But he wanted to secure the area as soon as possible.

His judgment call soon paid off. Around a bend, they emerged from the forest to find the walls of a small town nearby. At first, he was impressed. Barbarians didn't often gather in such large numbers. But that only lasted a moment.

The wall was shoddy by imperial standards—woefully so. When they civilized this area, they would need to replace it. Even the temporary palisade they made at camp each night would do better to stop an assault than that wall.

"Fulkon formation!"

Quintus felt the wall shift around him as those proficient with slings stepped to the back. They pulled out their weapons and stones, getting projectiles ready. The barbarian guards were just reaching the wall, and despite their shouts, the town had not formed any sort of real defensive response. Not yet, at least.

A moment later, the ranks around him reformed. Men stepped up to slot into the shield wall. With another command, the Legion formed into a turtle formation and marched into archer range. The gates opened for the fleeing men. The sound of loud bells shattered the air as the town finally recognized that it was under threat. Through an opening in the shields, Quintus saw a handful of archers pop up on the wall, taking ineffectual shots at their formation.

The slowness with which the gates closed behind the men showed sloppy discipline by the guards. This was further demonstrated by the fact that the Legion was almost at the wall before any sort of concentrated arrow fire came at them.

As their formation butted up against the base of the wall, Quintus and the men in the first rank went down on one knee and braced their shields against its wooden pillars and their shoulders. The position gave them cover from attackers and also provided a foothold for the second rank as they climbed up. The little boost was all they needed to get their hands over the top of the all-too-short wall. It wasn't even cut properly to prevent easy scaling.

The second rank flung themselves up and over the wall, and the third rank quickly followed. He heard shouts of panic and battle as the Legionnaires engaged their enemies. Less than three minutes later, the gates were once again open, this time with a perimeter formed by the second and third ranks. They stood above groups of several surrendered guards, all of them sitting down with hands raised and their weapons in a pile.

Quintus stepped through the gate at the head of the Legion and looked around. Given the state of the wall and the guards, he shouldn't have expected much. But the place he found himself surveying could barely be considered slums. The roads were simple packed dirt and mud, the buildings little more than wooden hovels with no real ornamentation or architecture of note. He wouldn't have been surprised if they didn't even have proper sewage systems. How uncivilized were these people?

The main street wasn't quite a straight shot to the center of town, but it was close enough that he could see a larger central building erected there. Even from this distance, it was easy to spot the white flag being raised atop it.

The meaning was quite clear, but Quintus wasn't about to let his guard down. Not when there were still so many unknowns.

With a few orders, the first rank established a cordon several blocks wide. Quintus took a moment to confer with several of the centurions of the first cohort. Gallus, Remus, Antonius, and Castus gathered around him.

"Sweep the town. We need a full count of the civilians. Gather all military-aged men outside the wall and keep them under watch." His gaze swept across the other centurions. "Don't let anyone do anything stupid. Keep lethal force to a minimum. If they're willing to surrender this quickly, then hopefully, they'll be smart and willing to listen. Besides, our Legatus might have use for them," Quintus instructed.

The centurions nodded without a hint of surprise at their orders. So far, the bloodshed had been extremely limited, which was fortunate. It would make matters much easier if the people didn't throw their lives away. Each of the Centurions had been through many campaigns and seen the trouble that came with needlessly violent conquest. No one wanted to deal with that. Besides, it was obvious they were in a completely unknown area. Who knew how far they were from familiar lands, much less friendly ones? No, right now, they needed a base of operations.

As they worked to secure the city, more and more Legionnaires continued to pour in. Their ranks swelled, making Quintus expect that it was only a matter of time before the entire Legion arrived. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the Legatus reached the gate with the rest of his officers.

"Legatus Tiberius," Quintus said with a salute.

Tiberius examined his first centurion with an approving stare. "Report, Primus."

***

As Quintus described the situation and how they'd gotten here, Tiberius nodded with satisfaction. Watching his men vanish before him had been a terrifying sight. Witchcraft like that would unsettle anyone's stomach. A few quiet words and prayers to the gods were the only thing he allowed himself in front of his remaining men before he, too, was banished.

Finding everyone intact on the other side had been a relief. One that he didn't show outwardly, of course, but still felt nonetheless.

Tiberius stepped forward through the gates and surveyed the area. He frowned, agreeing with Quintus's impression of the place as a backwoods barbarian outpost. But still, it meant there were other people about. At least they weren't in the middle of nowhere.

As Quintus finished his report, Tiberius nodded once again. He wished there was some promotion he could give the man. He wasn't sure if he could trust any of his staff officers or even a second to keep a level head in that kind of situation, let alone so efficiently secure the area and eliminate all threats.

Unfortunately, any commission would need to be confirmed by the Senate or the Emperor for him to advance Quintus. And as far as they knew, Rome might as well be a world away. Well, if there was a battlefield vacancy, he knew who was going to fill it.

"Come," Tiberius ordered. "We will find the leaders of this settlement. I have many questions to ask."

With that, the two men headed off to the center of the town.