The Antventure Begins

103. Rising Tide

Titus was worried.

It was almost impossible to notice under the weathered lines of his face cut deep over years of campaigning. Except there was an extra furrow in his brow, a little more tension in his stare.

Tribune Aurillia noticed. After so many years serving in the Legion she was able to detect the subtle changes in her commander. The tightening of his shoulders, the way he constantly thumbed the blade of his famed axe, testing an edge he kept razor sharp for the better part of thirty years.

It wasn’t often Titus was worried.

“…suspicious activity on the part of the Mercenary Union and Merchant’s Guild, as well as a shift in the rhetoric of the Church of the Path have been reported over the last two weeks. Our strategists suggest the possibility of a coup in Liria is rising by the day,” Aurillia reported.

Titus nodded absently, his iron gaze never leaving the forest Expanse that spread out before them from their vantage point on the camp walls. The forest was dark. Very dark. Even the monsters seemed to sense something was coming. The din of combat, constant over the last week, had faded away to nothing.

There was a tension in the air, as if every living thing in the Dungeon was waiting, ready to spring into violent battle at a moment’s notice.

“Do you have any instructions to relay to the surface, Commander?” Aurillia queried.

Her commander didn’t respond. Titus’ gaze remained pensively on the Expanse, his ice blue eyes reflecting the dying light from the trees.

“What do you think the Dungeon was like before the Rending, Tribune?” he asked.

Aurillia was taken aback by this seemingly unrelated question. After a pause to consider her response, she answered, “Nobody knows the condition of the Dungeon before the cataclysm, Commander. No one even knew it existed.”

Titus shook his head. “Of course, I know that. I asked what you think it was like. Use your imagination, Aurillia.”

The tribune was confused. “I don’t know, Commander. We know the Mana level on the surface rose dramatically. I can only imagine the Mana level underground surged to incredible levels.”

“I think the Rending was a wave,” mused Titus. “I think it was just a very large, very long wave.”

This wasn’t an unheard-of theory regarding the Rending. Just, no wave had ever come remotely close to replicating the world-shattering effects of the cataclysm that created this Dungeon age.

“You’ve read the reports from our neighbouring Legionary outposts?” Titus asked.

“I have.”

“The Mana levels have been rising all around us, not just locally. The change has been even, no variation at all. Readings in Banron are the same as ours. I wonder just how far this wave is reaching? It may be covering the entire frontier. Perhaps even farther.”

“Surely you aren’t suggesting this is the beginning of a second cataclysm?” Aurillia scoffed.

The signs were worrying, but the cataclysm? The civilisations on the surface, humanity itself, had almost been wiped out at that time!

A moment of silence descended as Titus stroked his grizzled chin, contemplating the dim light reflected in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m not sure. Something is different about this one. I just wish I knew what.”

Another break in the conversation fell. Side by side, the two veterans spent some time lost in their own thoughts until Aurillia felt compelled to speak.

“Do you have any instructions regarding the situation on the surface, Commander?”

Titus slowly nodded. “I want every member of the Legion above ground to make immediate preparations to depart for our position within two hours. Not a single trainee or auxiliary is to remain behind. I don’t care if they have to burn the Loremaster’s library to the ground, Alberton needs to be down here also.”

“Everyone?” gasped Aurillia. “You’re going to abandon the queen? Do you think there won’t be an insurrection?”

“There will be a coup and the queen will be killed,” Titus said.

“Then why?”

“The politics of surface kingdoms is of no interest to me. Nor should it be to you, Tribune. Our duty and our focus lies in the Dungeon,” Titus replied firmly.

“But the queen has been a loyal supporter of ours for decades. You’re talking about Alberton’s aunt!” Aurillia protested. She couldn’t believe Titus would be so cold hearted.

Titus’ jaw visibly clenched and a spark of anger ignited in his eyes.

“Listen to me, Tribune,” he said tightly. “We stand on the verge of an unprecedented disaster. The only thing standing between the city of Liria and a flood of monsters are these fortifications,” he emphasised his words by slamming a fist down on the compacted earthen walls, “and the Legionaries who followed our orders to come here. The queen has left herself vulnerable and I can’t do a damned thing about that. I will protect my people no matter the cost.”

Faced with the slowly burning rage in Titus’ ice blue eyes, Aurillia could only swallow her protests.

“It will be done, Commander,” she assented.

Titus simply nodded and faced the camp itself. Temporary buildings erected by Earth Mages were constructed in neat rows, dotted here and there with canvas tents and open forges.

The men and women of the Legion who joined him on this expedition were all present here in this camp. Nobody had been allowed to venture out a centimetre since the light had begun to fade.

“I want you to send a message to Rixard,” Titus suddenly said.

Aurillia was taken aback. “My son? Why?”

Titus dropped his chin to his chest before looking back up and continuing to speak, “I want him to pass a message onto the Mercs and Merchants.”

Aurillia felt her heart grow still. “I’m not sure why you couldn’t just send a message directly, Commander. My son is only a low-level merchant in the city. They won’t hold the message in any higher regard for being delivered by him.”

Titus chuckled and shook his head. “Aurillia,” a note of warning entered his tone, “don’t play games. Not with me.”

It was the tribune’s turn to drop her head as her commander continued.

“I know Rixard has been passing information about our movements to the Mercenaries. Information he’s been stealing from you. They will listen to him. Letting them know we were aware of their little mole will send another message also.”

“How long did you know?” Aurillia whispered.

Titus snorted. “You didn’t try to hide it, Tribune, you wanted us to know. We found out years ago.”

Aurillia gathered herself and saluted her commander. “I’m ready to accept my punishment, Commander.”

Titus held her stare. Her gaze never wavered. She’d been prepared for this moment for a long time, he supposed. To her astonishment he simply waved her away.

“I’m the last person who will judge another for a wayward child, Aurillia. The fault is not yours. Get Rixard to tell them we will hold here for two weeks. Two weeks only. After that, they will be on their own.”

“Where will we go, Commander?” the relieved officer asked.

“Down.”

Clapping Aurillia on the back, Titus moved away from the wall and began to walk through the camp, having a quiet chat with his soldiers as he passed by, a joke here and there, a bit of encouragement, the occasional stern word.

Wherever we went he was met with respect, determination and idolisation shining in the eyes of his Legionaries. He knew it was there. Knew what they thought of him. As much as it was embarrassing, he welcomed their hero worship so long as it led them to do what he asked. He could keep them alive that way.

He didn’t feel much like a hero. His back hurt, his knuckles ached and the cartilage in his left elbow made a grinding sound every time he hefted his axe. It wouldn’t be long now before the Legion retired him to the stone.