A rider came down the rugged road. Dried blood covered his armor. His spear was nowhere to be seen. His empty sheath hung loosely on the belt of his armor. Behind his helmet was the face of an exhausted man.
But he didn't stop. He didn't even take a moment to rest. He knew he couldn’t. Not when the Empire was at stake.
The man was a member of the Rome Defense Corps, and as of the moment, he might as well be the last survivor of the Corps.
A while ago, merely two days after the reserve forces of 80,000 departed, a swarm of metallic creatures suddenly surrounded the entire city of Rome. No one knew where they came from, but they were endless in numbers.
They struck fearlessly and endlessly, and within a day, Rome fell.
At the last moment, the city’s commander knew the only way out was by recalling the troops the Emperor and the other warlords had at the front. With the majority of the Empire gone off to war, most of the planet was defenseless. If these aliens found a way to attack Rome, then only Jupiter knows how many other cities have fallen without anyone knowing.
During the chaos of the city’s fall, thousands of messengers were spread out. 99.99% of them never made it past the city’s walls, but there were a few lucky ones. The rider was one of them.
And he was so close to his destination. Just a few more hours, and…
And then a blast hit him in the chest and ended his quest.
In the shadows, an Alphian reloaded his sniper blaster.
----------------------------------------
“I know many of our fellow Romans may think you are a fool, Legatus Decimus, yet I want to tell you that you have earned my respect.”
“Gratitudes, Legatus Quintus.”
After the massacre two weeks ago, Jean did whatever she could to recall the routing troops, and the results weren’t well. Out of the 35,000 troops, less than one third of them survived the day. Among the barely, over 10,000, only a fraction of them could still fight.
Immediately, Legatus Decimus went from a warlord with the potentials to seize the throne to one of the weakest warlords in the Roman Empire. With less than 20,000 men, he could barely hold his territories, much less take a step forward.
Roman warlords were perhaps the most realistic group of people in the Empire. Ever since the disaster, not a single one of the three warlords that made an alliance with Jean made contact with her, not even Legatus Caius. They didn't even ask why she did what she did.
The opinions of a weakling doesn’t matter.
Jean was fine with it, but even she had to admit she didn't expect it when Legatus Quintus, of all people, talked to her and showed his support.
The second most powerful man in Rome went on.
“I come from an age where the Roman faith was shattered. We were a proud race of people. We dominated our world, and when we found a thousand different realms to conquer, we dove head-on into conflict. At that age, patriotism was cherished.”
“Yet when the Protectors came crashing down, many of us lost our faith in the Empire. Power was no longer earned by victories or heroic deeds. It was seized by assassinations, bribery, and threats. It was a dark time for Rome.”
“I have to admit I didn't expect this much from you, Legatus Decimus, I just want to inform you that the gates to my fortress will always be open to you. If you find yourself under threat because of your selfless act, do not hesitate to come to me for aid.”
“You have my deepest and most honest thanks, Legatus.” Jean didn't shy from giving hand her praises. After all, how much do praises cost?
As Quintus left, Jean finally had the time to look at the greater picture.
For the past two weeks, she had done all she could to delay the Roman assault.
Under the orders of Emperor Marcus, powerful siege weapons were constructed at all cost. Ballistas. Onagers. These were weapons no less powerful than Alphighters and the other tricks the Alphians had. In previous engagements, the Romans didn't find a chance to use that arsenal. But with the enemies trapped and entrenched, perhaps the siege gears could contribute after all.
Originally, a week was all it took for the adequate weapons to be constructed, but a really unfortunate and completely random fire, a result from a misplaced oil lamp and a sentry sleeping on the job, happened to have consumed the warehouse keeping the finished gears before anyone could step in.
Without question, the Emperor was less than satisfied. After beheading the sentry, the officer in charge of warehouse storage and maintenance, and a dozen other poor souls who happened to be tied to the issue, the Emperor had the entire construction process repeated.
This time, the finished weapons were put under heavy guard. Still, if Jean wanted to, an army couldn’t stop her from infiltrating, but she knew she no longer needed to.
A few days ago, the Emperor’s reserve forces, 80,000 strong, finally arrived. This was the last established force in the Empire, and now, it was tied here.
Armies of Alphians pounced on the opportunity. They have already roamed in the rurals for weeks, capturing and converting more and more to add to their ranks. Seizing the opening, the Alphians finally took out the cities, swarming over the defenders and multiplying their own numbers.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Of course, something like this would always result in survivors, but Jean thought about it as well. She didn't care about the rest of the Empire getting the news. She simply didn't want the Emperor sensing something wrong, so she set up a net of observers and gave some access to Alpha-Sierra. His Alphians would take out anyone who could affect the plan.
Suddenly, an officer walked in.
“My lord, the Emperor has summoned you.”
“Very well.” Jean nodded and left the tent with the officer.
The Emperor was finally making a move. Good. His reinforcements and armaments gave him confidence, but that was exactly what Jean and Alpha-Sierra wanted.
250,000 Romans were, well, a lot of people. When they were entrenched and had artillery support, according to Alpha-Sierra and his calculations, it would take at least 150,000 Alphians attacking on all fronts to overpower them. At least 50,000 Alphians were projected to die or at least be disabled.
The Alphians could tolerate those losses, but there was no reason to take those casualties if there was a better way. Too many casualties could slow down their entire strategy, which was why the Alphians were waiting for the Romans to come to them.
The two emotionless commanders have already had a whole thing scheduled for them.
Jean was among the first to arrive at the Emperor’s command tent. When everyone else came in, the Emperor made a simple declaration.
“Today is the day we cleanse the aliens from our world and avenge all those who have fallen at their hand, but to do so, we must fight as one. If anyone of you places you self interest above the greater good of the Empire, then don’t be surprised when I make you pay the price!”
All the warlords nodded. Whether they would really comply or not, some pretense was always needed.
The warlords marched out of the tent. Outside, lines and lines of Romans entered formation between the tent and the grounded Alphian ship. It was as if what happened two weeks ago was copied and pasted into the present. The only difference was that there were two lines of machines among the Roman ranks.
A whole line of ballistas sat in front of the Roman legionnaires and equites. Four men were at each device. Beside each device was a stack of two meter long arrows.
In a sense, these ballistas were similar to the crossbows in the World of the Runes. The only difference was crossbow rounds were still based on somewhat vulnerable materials. It was the runes on them that made them so menacing. These ballista rounds, on the other hand, achieved what the runes did with its raw strength.
Behind the legionnaires was a line of onagers. These weapons, capable of flinging giant stones at their target, had a much longer range than the ballistas. Once again, four men and a stack of rounds were at each machine.
As all the Romans got into position, the Emperor slowly raised his well-decorated sword.
“Onagers and ballistas, on my command!”
“Unload all your ammunition on that alien ship!”
If it was a technology-focused civilization in the place of the Romans, they might still try to leverage with the Alphians and force them to surrender. This way, it would be easier to replicate their technology. But the Romans were on a completely different path. Emperor Marcus had no intention of skipping from arrows and ballistas to laser rounds. He only wanted one thing: the destruction of anyone that might threaten his reign.
And the Alphian aliens were the greatest factor of uncertainty.
The onagers and the ballistas complied. As the onagers were getting loaded, the ballistas were the first to open fire.
Almost simultaneously, following a wave of sonic booms, hundreds of two-meter long, sharp rods were flung at the Alphian ship. The ship’s hull, impervious to Roman archers, screeched as all the arrows buried themselves deep inside.
The Alphian ship was instantly turned into something of a porcupine.
But that wasn’t over. Hundreds of stones crossed the sky and slammed into the top of the ship. Unlike the arrows that focused on penetration, the stones bashed in entire surfaces of the ship.
After the first round, it was obvious the fall of the Alphian ship was just a matter of time. Without the cover of their ship, the Alphians could never withstand hundreds of thousands of Romans. The difference in numbers was just too great.
A smile climbed onto the face of the entire Roman High Command. Even Legatus Quintus let out a smile. It was good to know despite being beaten by the Protector Corps, the Roman Empire still had its strengths.
Legatus Caius sneaked a glance at Jean. It was just a pity that Legatus Decimus threw his forces away so meaninglessly when victory could be achieved so easily.
As the ballista and onager crews loaded the munitions for round two, the Alphian ship suddenly made a giant hissing sound, and under the shocked gaze of all the Romans in the field, the Alphian ship started to lift into the air.
“It’s trying to get away!” Emperor Marcus screamed, abandoning any style of being the head of state. “All units, take that ship down! Use everything!”
The Roman lines immediately started scrambling.
“Ballistas! Loose when ready!”
“Archers! Form lines!”
“Javelins! Use the javelins!”
“Wait, what?! Not the javelins!”
Storms of arrows were fired at the ship in enough sound booms capable of making a normal person from a normal world deaf, but all they did was bounce off the ship. A few overzealous legionnaires even used their javelins, but when some javelins completely missed the target and landed on their own comrades, the officers quickly stepped in and stopped the stupidity with a few well placed whips.
The second round of ballistas was finally ready as they punched hole after hole on the Alphian ship. Suddenly, a cloud of black smoke exploded at a corner of the Alphian ship, and the vessel’s dashing speed was reduced to that of a crawling turtle.
Nonetheless, it has already navigated its way outside the Roman entrenchment. A few ballistas fired in its general direction, but they were futile.
“Chase that ship down!” Emperor Marcus knew the danger of letting an enemy go free. With the ship’s technology, who knows what it’s capable of if it had the element of surprise?
The Roman forces were sprung into chaos. Crew members did what they could to drag the ballistas and onagers into motion. Equites got onto their mounts and went after the ship. They didn't have effective ranged weapons, but all they wanted to do was keep an eye on the ship. Legionnaires and archers formed ranks and entered march.
The Emperor turned around as well, but before departing with his Imperial Guards, he turned to Jean.
“Legatus Decimus, take your men and stay here and guard this camp.”
There were still a lot of supply in this camp, and to be frank, the Emperor didn't trust anyone else to stay here. Legatus Decimus was different. He has become so weak that his survival depended upon the favor and support of the others. He would be a fool to do something against that purpose.
“As you wish, your grace.”
Jean nodded.
Good. She was just wondering what excuse to use to get herself off the road to certain death.