Excerpt From The Mad Scholar's Wall—

Even as the platforms lifted off, the gathered legionaries struggled to hold as their comrades and enemies rushed forward. The fighting did not slow for a second.

An intermingled charge of legionaries and beastmen threw themselves at the platform as it rose into the air and desperately clawed at its edge.

Humans and beastmen alike latched onto it, nails digging at the stone to pull themselves up. But for every human hanging off the edge, two more were beastmen.

Before the legionary's comrades could bend over and reach down to pull them up, a beastmen would leap onto their backs and rip their hands from the stone as the beastman pulled them to the ground in a tangled mass. Within a moment, another beastman would have taken their place hanging off the platform's edge, snarling at the bent-over legionary.

And the legionaries standing on the platforms, who tried to save just one more of their brethren, could only take out their fury and guilt on the hanging beastmen.

As the platforms leveled off at the battlements and the legionaries filed onto the walls, tens of thousands of beasts howled and roared below at their escape.

And then screamed in fear as the stone platforms fell onto their heads.

**********

I stood in the doorway, with the first rays of the morning's light slipping past me into the long hallway.

The light revealed the smooth, dusty ground marred by the shapes of footprints heading down the hallway and into the rooms on either side of the passage.

Faintly, I could hear the sounds of snores and the slight rustling of clothing as people moved around in their sleep.

Reaching out to my right, my hand wrapped around a rope, the coarse fibered pressing against my palm for a long second before I pulled down. At first, there was a definite resistance as I pulled before I stopped at a muffled clake, and the rope was dragged back into the air along with my hand.

The rope reached an upward apex, and I assisted with its downward motion again, causing the definite clang to peal out into the barracks.

I continued to pull on the rope connected to the bell over my head.

Even though I could only faintly hear the groans and shouts to stop the noise, I was amused by the figures stumbling out of the doorways. More than a few had bloodshot eyes and scowls plastered onto their faces.

I could easily imagine being woken up in a similar way. In fact, I could remember. I was in the legion, after all. It was not an uncommon event, and I would much rather be the one waking everyone up than the other way around.

Their glairs would soothe my weary mind as I was forced to be awake at this forsaken hour. As they slowly began trickling down the hallway, I stopped pulling on the bell to walk outside and wait for everyone.

I could still feel their looks of annoyance, but I did not care. They were not the only ones operating on a few hours of sleep.

After I happened to overhear the planning session of the tribunes and centurions, I was given my orders and sent off to get some sleep.

The only surprising part of the whole experience, other than me being able to be near it — though I was technically the leader of the scouts in the Northwestern Fort at the moment with no one else around — was that we got word that a few scouts returned at the end, calling the Prefect back to command.

The messenger didn't know what the scout was reporting, but she got the sense that the Legatus was not pleased.

With my orders already given, I found myself walking back to the barracks to get some rack time before morning came. Which came all too soon for my tastes and the trainees, if I could interpret their expressions at all.

Once they were all gathered in front of the building, I began speaking. "I guess that all of you and lucky. The Prefect of the 15th decided that you all don't need to be trained and are honorary members of the scouts. As such, we will all leave this morning to scout along the Rush's western side and into the Northern Forest's southern end."

My words were met with incredulous silence. I understood why.

Everyone who was accepted into the scout training program was already capable. Usually, they came from family backgrounds where they spent time running around the woods as kids.

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Preferably they would be the kids of hunters like my father, who would show them some tricks. Also, those who grew up on the streets of a major city and learned some of the trade of being a thief were good candidates.

They would have to be taught a few more tricks and have habits beaten out of them, but they had the instincts.

The other category of people who joined the scouts were those with strong mental powers. Well, not that strong. They couldn't be knights or anything, but they were definitely stronger than average. And could usually pull off feats like Markus, where they can enhance their bodies to superhuman levels or perform mental attacks for a short period.

Everyone still alive after yesterday fell into the category of being sneaky. Those that would have been part of the second group probably died with Prick as they raced to join me. I guess one or two could have been killed as we fought around the pit, but I didn't think so.

Those with power usually came from the minor nobility or those in the upper levels of the citizenry. All of which took offense to those of a lesser status giving them orders.

And this wasn't me just assuming that every one of status ignored my command and died. While we were in unity, I got enough of a feeling for everyone's mental energy pools that I could tell that no one else had a significant level of power.

I guess someone can be a member of the lower nobility, but if they had these levels of power as nobility, there was no way they would have an ego and cause a problem. There was nothing a noble hated more than weak nobles that made the nobles as a whole look bad.

So I had to assume — hope really — that everyone here had some level of experience running around a forest. But there was a big difference between tracking a deer through the woods and searching for beastkin warbands.

And being competent as a scout takes months of training to build the foundation for skills that need years of practice to perfect. Or a level of control and a pool of mental energy to properly utilize the mental workings we scouts practiced with minimal exposure and experience.

I seriously doubted they had either of those requirements, at least to the level needed to leave and return to the camp, and from the looks on their faces and body language, they agreed.

Moments passed, and finally, Joxin spoke up, “Sir… we're not ready. Bloody crows, we haven't even been taught anything yet!"

There was a bit of hysteria in his words, and I nodded in agreement. "You're not, and you haven't been."

Everyone seemed a bit taken aback by my words as if I couldn't see the truth right in front of my face.

"But that doesn't matter." I continued. "We are on the brink of battle, and the fifteenth needs all the information we can get. Last I heard, one scout returned. Maybe more have shown up, maybe not. Doesn't matter. The legion does not have enough. So anyone even moderately skilled will be pushed into the position. You lot at better off than most, as you have me. And I will teach you what I can."

The fifteen trainees did not look convinced or reassured, but they would have to get over it and move on.

"We have our orders, and we will follow them," I said, looking them all in the eye one after another showing them my resolve.

After that, I took the trainees over to grab some hot food before leading them to the supple tribune getting them the right gear. While legion grunt armor was good for standing shoulder to shoulder in a shield wall, it was not ideal for moving around in a forest unnoticed.

Those with experience with a bow were given one, while those without experience were given spikes. Which were six-inch long solid metal spearheads with a small four-inch handle and loop on the back.

Anyone who had even picked up a rock and thrown it around with a mental strand of force could use one to some degree. Though those with training and practice could easily be picked out.

After we were kitted out, I led them through the camp as I talked, trying to convey as much as I could.

"The beastkin have better senses than us. Sight, smell, and hearing, you all should know that we are inferior. But you don't know what it means in the wild. They will hear us farther away, smell our passage or when we are upwind, and see us farther or in darker areas than most would expect. Before, our advantage was that we could sense their minds at a distance, but even that is taken from us, as they have developed a device to hide."

I looked around and took a moment for my words to sink in. "To counter their advantages, we scouts train relentlessly to project a thin layer over our bodies to hide our scent. To encase the ground with a layer of force to dampen the sound of our footsteps. And move fluidly through the forest. Most of you have some experience with these concepts, right?"

Nods met my words, with only a couple of people looking concerned. "Some of you have even practiced this while hunting," again, there were nods, but this time less than before. "But none of you have done it for hours or days without stopping." I did not look this time, as I knew I was right and there would be no nods.

I only knew of one person to push their child to keep up the workings for hours, leading to half of a day at a time as practice. And how I hated him for doing that to me. But it was the only thing that kept me alive all this time…

"Ok, there is so much more to know, but if you can contain your scent, you have a good chance of making it back."

“Instructor… what do I—

"Don't worry," I said, cutting off the tentative voice that was speaking up, "I will show you."

With that, I began sending mental links out to everyone, continuing to talk while I did so. "As you can feel, I have smaller reserves than all of you. If you can get close to my shell size and control, you should be fine for six hours." Encasing my body with a small layer of force thinner than a hair, I put my words into practice.

Holding it for a few moments, I released it and reformed it several more times while I tried to send everything I was doing down the mental link.

"The hardest part won't be your mental energy reserves," I stated, "but keeping your working active the whole time. You won't believe your mental exhaustion after a whole day."

After I showed them how to make the shield. I gave them a few more pointers and suggestions as we continued to walk out of the new gate and past the training grounds stopping on a small hill.

Far in the distance, pasted the sea of waving grass, I could see a line of green that marked the edge of the northern forest along with the river Rush that came out of its heart.

Turning to my trainees, I looked at them as I said, "Now, this is where we split up."