A Soldiers Life -243-Emperor POV (part 1 of 2) (Patreon)

Chapter 243: Emperor Maximum Augustus Severus (first half of epilogue POV)

Emperor Maximum Augustus Severus sat in his command tent north of Caranhagan. The recent battle was won but not without loss. His thoughts were muddled as he studied the maps on the table. Primus Scorpio stood patiently nearby, waiting for orders while his duke generals had been told to leave him alone. He focused, “How many dead?”

The Primus came to attention, “Two hundred-six legionnaires dead, forty-two crippled. The soldier dead count is over four thousand, half that crippled, but the healers can get most healed enough to rejoin the ranks in time.”

“Mages?” the Emperor asked, reaching into his pocket and removing a faded purple essence. The intellect essence would help him focus for a day or so. His thoughts clarified as the essence dissolved. This essence tasted salty, and he wondered what creature or person it came from.

“Master Mage Gracilis is burnt.” Severus frowned, prompting Primus Scorpio to explain. “First Citizen Aureus retreated on the left flank, and Master Mage Gracilis was forced forward to hold the line. He also lost all his legionnaires and is asking Aureus to be punished.” Primus Scorpio reported. “Three freshly raised Mages were also burnt, but losing them will not affect our combat strength.”

Severus was trying to remember who First Citizen Aureus was. Once, he could recall every First Citizen in the Empire instantly; now, their names were foggy memories. He reached for minutes to trace the genealogy, and Primus Scorpio respected his internal thoughts. Finally, he found the thread of memories he was searching for. First Citizen Aureus was the great-grandson of his third daughter, Persia. Persia had died over two centuries ago. He vaguely remembered the funeral services. “Execute First Citizen Aureus for retreating in the face of the enemy. Assign Master Mage Gracilis twenty of my Imperial Legionnaire. And give him this.”

He reached into his belt and searched for the correct essence. Most of the essences he had on his person were to help his focus. He produced a glossy black sphere. It was a major channeling essence. His thoughts drifted unbidden back to when he had burnt his own aether channels.

Severus had been assigned to the Agorian Front by his father, the Count of Varvao. The trolls had risen in numbers and were a tangible threat. He had taken five hundred legionnaires deep into the swamps, taking the fight to the trolls. His men formed a fortification deep in troll lands and repelled wave after wave of the foul creatures. It was his godly void magic that tore the trolls from existence and prevented them from regenerating. His boldness was quickly turned into folly as the trolls numbered much higher than the Hounds had reported. Severus had forced himself past his limits but didn’t stop and won the day, breaking the trolls.

He had been burnt in the defense, taking 207 major channeling essences over the next five years to repair the damage. The Emperor, his grandfather, had given him every channeling essence that filtered to him in the palace, seeing his potential. He released the channeling essence into Scorpio’s outstretched hand. Master Mage Gracilis was a valuable mage who could disrupt enemy spells at a distance but would only get temporary relief from the glossy black sphere. He would have to push through his pain and continue to fight.

Severus snapped back to the moment; minutes had passed, and his mind had wandered again. He looked up at Scorpio, “What other news?”

“Centurion Cornelius and Sergius are prepared to report when you are ready, Emperor.” The Primus stated obediently.

“Why is Sergius here? Haven’t the orcs invaded the Western Empire?” Severus barked angrily. Too many enemies were trying to take advantage and steal the discovery of the Titan Ruins. He would banish them all from existence.

Primus Scorpio bowed, “You ordered half of his Hounds to Macha. He volunteered to come with them, and you approved the move.”

That was correct. He slowly nodded, “Send them in then.”

The two Hound Centurions entered almost immediately. The old Cornelius had a straight back as he entered. He had lost Hounds faster than they could be replaced. Sergius had gained weight from last seeing him but couldn’t recall when that had been. Centurion Cornelius reported first.

Cornelius saluted, “My Emperor. The elves are licking their wounds and have stopped their advance after the last battle. They will wait for reinforcements from Esenhem after losing two of their powerful mages at your hands.” Severus nodded impatiently. The battle was two days ago, and he had not channeled that much aether in decades and nearly burnt his own aether channels. Although they had won the day, his Empire couldn’t sustain three war fronts if this became a war of attrition.

“And the Bartiradians?” He asked the Hound Centurion impatiently.

“Duke Tiberius is retreating to Macha, and to defend the excavation site, he lost half his strength defending the walls of Guiracas,” Cornelius reported. The Emperor slammed the table, and Cornelius didn’t jump, but Sergius flinched.

Sergius spoke to fuel his anger, “Varvao has fallen to the orc clerics. Duke Tiberius failed to send reinforcements as promised. I managed to delay the fleet for two days longer than he requested but could not hold them back any longer.”

The Emperor met Centurion Sergius’ eyes. The man was trying to deflect his attention to punish Tiberius and take the focus of his own failures. Duke Tiberius was a good commander, but he had gotten too embroiled in the political jostling all his progeny were entitled to as they fought for scraps of power. Black energy crackled about Severus as he studied the map of his Empire collapsing in on itself. He looked south. “What of the goblins?”

Sergius swallowed loudly, “They have not left the mountains, but the estimates are in the tens of thousands.” The hard stare the Emperor leveled at Sergius had him step back. “We have time. The orcs are unlikely to advance from Varvao and will likely focus their efforts south on…”

The map and table suddenly vanished in a flash of black lightning, gone forever. “The orcs carved themselves off a quarter of the Telhian Empire, and you are telling me that is a good thing?!” The vehemence in his words had the Centurion step back to let him cool. This was not like him. In his youth, he would puzzle out the problem and figure out a way to win back the advantage.

There were too many enemies. He needed to eliminate one. He took more mental essences from his belt and put them in his mouth before Primus Scorpio could voice his warning. He needed a clear mind now more than ever, damn the hangover.

It worked as the slow, distracting thoughts were pushed away. He slowly formed a bold plan in his mind. He looked at Cornelius with clear eyes, “Are you sure the elves are waiting on reinforcements?”

“Antonia Segreto’s agents in Esenhem say the ships are being loaded and provisioned now. It will be four days, three if the rush.” Cornelius informed him. The Emperor nodded as the Elves did not have many Displacement Mages, so they were unlikely to create and move through portals.

 “Good, get me the Displacement mages. I will move my army behind the Bartiradians, and we will crush them between us and Duke Tiberius in Macha. Duke Octavian can surge his forces from the excavation site and join with Tiberius.”

Everyone in the room tensed. If the Emperor’s northern army went south, then the elves would have a clear path to the capital or could attack Macha from the north. The Emperor tried to dissuade their concerns. “We will depart in secret tomorrow night, crush the Bartiradian Armies, and return north to confront and punish the elves again. It will be a costly battle, but we will be victorious.”

Cornelius was the only one brave enough to speak. “Are the ruins of the Titans worth risking so much? It may be time for diplomacy my Emperor.”

“No, the secrets Chancellor Marcel has already recovered are priceless and cannot be shared.” The Emperor stated firmly, cutting off any attempt to convince him otherwise.

Cornelius slowly nodded, “At your command. I will prepare the Hounds and get messages to the dukes to prepare to mobilize for tomorrow evening.”

The Emperor watched the Hound retreat. He had served faithfully for four decades but had clear doubt in his eyes. After this battle, he would have the Truthseekers question the Hound and maybe replace him anyway, even if he passed. Centurion Sergius retreated without a word. He would also need to be replaced.

Primus Scorpio cleared his throat, drawing the Emperor’s attention to him. “Six elfbane blades have been forged and arrived yesterday. Do you want them distributed? The runic smiths can continue to forge two every day unless you wish them to focus on something else?”

The Emperor had two runic master smiths working in the bowels of the palace in secret. All the original elfbane black blades had been destroyed as part of the treaty with Esenhem. Since they broke the pact, he would punish them. “No, have them continue working on the elfbane blades. Give them to the legionnaires you think can make the best use of them. There will be elves when we face the Bartiradians tomorrow evening. Send in the dukes and mage commanders. I will personally reveal my plan to them.” Primus Scorpio briefly looked alarmed but saluted and left to obey. 

The next night, over five thousand legionnaires and fifty thousand soldiers formed up in a field outside of Caranhagan. The weather mages had pulled in dense, heavy clouds to hide their movements from Griffin Riders, and a detachment of dragon riders circled high above the clouds as insurance their movement was concealed.

The Emperor was dressed in his golden runic armor. Dozens of mages moved with him to the portal site. Seven Displacement Mages would be teleported far to the south, and an anchor point for the portal would be set up. Then, twelve Displacement Mages would work in concert to open the portal while the Emperor’s army moved through.

The Emperor marched into the circle of mages and legionnaires with an aura of confidence. He was surprised to see Chancellor Zyna here and paused to address her, “You said you wouldn’t leave the capital.” He wondered where she had come by the deep blue archmagi robes.

“The fate of the Empire is at stake, my Emperor. I will stand with you to defend it.” He met her eyes and nodded. A young red-haired mage stood behind Zyna. Zyna’s daughter? But he thought she had perished. Maybe she had another child. It was so hard to keep abreast of everyone. 

Primus Scorpio stood at his side and updated him. “The Displacement Mages have successfully set the anchor and remain undetected behind the Bartiradian Army. The Esenhem Elves have not moved. Duke Octavian and Tiberius are ready to surge and squeeze the Bartiradians between us.” The Primus sounded surprised that his plan had worked.

“Who is replacing Master Mage Gracilis on my left?” The Emperor asked as he surveyed the assembled mages, but he didn’t see Master Mage Gracilis among them.

“Mage Castile Duval. She is the only mage in your battalion who can unweave enemy spells. Mage Gracilis is in too much pain to be reliable on the front lines. That is Mage Castile there with her legionaries,” the Primus pointed.

The name struck a cord of familiarity with Severus, but he couldn’t place it. It was not the time to dwell on it, though. “The only mage? Is Master Mage Naevius not with us?”

“He still has your right. He waits to be sent through in the first wave to secure the portal.” The Primus reported.

“Then why are we waiting here?” The Emperor roared, “For the Telhian Empire! March to victory!”

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