She left her tent to find the camp alive with activity. All around her, Legionaries rushed to complete the final preparations for what was sure to be a difficult battle. Orders were being relayed, scout reports continued to flow in constantly, necessitating last-minute changes in strategy. Centurions argued loudly in corners while soldiers assembled their armour and honed their weapons in groups.
Despite the frenetic action, the mood was subdued, grim. Their faces were focused and ready, determined and unflinching. Many of the Legionaries were fairly green, much as she was, yet over such a short time, they’d become inured to the grind of war.
She found her father in his customary place, in the command tent surrounded by the tribunes and other senior officers of their Legion. The new addition, the leader of the auxiliary force, was a seven-foot giant of a man covered in thick reptilian scales.
His name was Charles, apparently. A former convict sent to the Legion and force-fed Biomass to turn him into a serviceable weapon. He’d served with distinction and risen to command his own company which had been attached to Titus’ force for this mission. She herself felt slightly uncomfortable in the man’s presence. He was a living reminder of just how far the Legion was willing to push in order to see the spawn of the Dungeon die.
When she arrived, her father spotted her almost instantly and waved the officers away as he strode out of the tent to meet her.
“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked.
“Indeed. Making sure my daughter survives is my most important duty.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re laying it on a bit thick, Commander.”
Titus’ expression didn’t change in the slightest, his seriousness carved into the planes of his face as if sculpted from stone.
“I don’t joke, child. Your mother gave me official orders to ensure you don’t die during this extermination.”
Morrelia stumbled.
“You’re kidding!” Would her mother really bend the rules to issue an order like that?
“Signed and sealed. I never kid about orders.”
The berserker felt lucky she’d put her helmet on already, since nobody could tell her face had flushed bright red. The Consul of the Legion issuing official orders to keep her child alive? It was a scandal! Nepotism! It was… very like her.
“Come on now.” Her father patted her on the shoulder. “Let’s get moving. It’s time.”
Only then did she realise her father had already suited up, his massive, bulky armour appeared to weigh a ton, yet he moved as if he didn’t notice he was wearing it. Even his great axe was strapped into position on his shoulder. Morrelia fell into place with her fellow guards and marched in precise order, her mind falling into chaos. What was the right thing to do? How was she supposed to save this situation?
That long march toward the nest was a special hell for Titus’ daughter. With every step, she thought about talking to the commander, yet every other step she reminded herself it would do no good. She was confident that even if the colony had done miraculous things, the Legion would still want them dead. They were monsters and that was enough. If she spoke up, all she would accomplish would be to disgrace her family and get locked up in the camp as a traitor to the Legion her parents had served their entire lives. The Legion her brother died attempting to serve. She couldn’t do it.
Suddenly, she noticed her father had stopped marching and she stilled her feet, looking about in confusion. They stood at the head of the Legion column, and behind her, the thousands of soldiers ground to a halt. What stopped them? She strained her neck to try and see. What she saw caused her heart to leap into her throat.
“Welcome, fellow humans,” Enid called to them. “Welcome to the nest of the colony.”
In the centre of the tunnel stood a lone, old woman, garbed in simple robes, and bearing a solid stick of oak to assist her walking. There was no fear on her face, in fact, she was smiling at them.
From Enid’s point of view, the approaching Legion was almost entirely shrouded in darkness, the thick Mana of the second stratum meant that all but the first few rows of soldiers were blurred to nothing in her eyes. Old age probably played its own part in that.
“I see you, Commander Titus. I have never met you, but I’ve heard many stories of the man who came to Liria to raise his family. Would you be willing to speak with me?”
Titus turned back to the rest of them.
“Wait here,” he said, and strode forward.
122. Diplomacy with the Damned
The colony had been clever with its strategy so far, if a little naïve. The inexperience in fighting sapient enemies was likely the reason for their relatively direct approach. If they were allowed to grow, that would change. Yet another reason to excise this problem before it grew too severe.
Still, Titus was compelled to keep his eyes wide open as he approached the elderly woman who stood alone in the wide tunnel.
“I am Titus,” he confirmed. “Commander of the Legionem Abyssi. I have to say, I did not expect to find a Lirian in this place. May I know your name?”
The old soldier stood straight and tall, not bothering to try and appear unthreatening. How could he? He was wearing a full set of heavy Abyssal Armour with a demonic axe on his back. In truth, he was threatening. Not that Enid seemed to mind.
“My name is Enid Ruther, Commander. You might have known my husband.”
Titus frowned.
“Derrion? The mercenary?”
The mayor smiled, pleased to see her dearest husband was still remembered.
“That’s right. He spoke highly of you.”
“He was one of the good ones. The dark blade of Arranyss. I seldom have respect for mercs, but your husband was very capable and stuck to the rules. I was saddened to hear of his death.”
“He had no time for union politics. He always saw the Dungeon as his place of work and held no interest in jostling for control.”
The commander grunted.
“Good thing, too. As much as I would like to take the time to pay the proper respect to your husband, Ms. Ruther, I am sure you are aware of what is happening in this place and that my time is limited. I can guess why you are here, but I’m prepared to listen to what you have to say.”
“I agree. It’s unpleasant that we find ourselves in this position.” Enid smoothed her skirt as she gathered her courage. “I don’t know what happened in the Dungeon during the wave, Commander, but I imagine it wasn’t easy for you. I presume you were occupied when Garralosh rose to the surface.”
“We held the line and prevented the lower monsters surging into Liria. We couldn’t predict that Garralosh would be able to do what it did.”
She only shook her head.
“I don’t blame you, or the Legion, for what happened during the wave. None of us could have known that a beast like that would be able to survive on the surface. But I must inform you that the beast, Garralosh, you once fought, was defeated by the colony you now seek to destroy.”
Titus only shrugged.
“Monsters kill monsters all the time. I deeply regret I wasn’t able to finish the vile creature when I had the chance, but I do not intend to spare these monsters because they rid the world of an evil.”
“They did more than just that. They saved us. They scoured the countryside and dug survivors out of the ruins. They built us homes, irrigated our fields, fed us, defended us, and brought us together. It is no exaggeration to say that without the support of these monsters, there likely would be no survivors of Liria or the frontier kingdoms at all. We owe the ants our lives and have lived in harmony with them for months. You seek to destroy them simply because they are monsters and were created by the Dungeon. We have decided this is wrong.”