Darkness. Endless, all-consuming darkness. A thick covering that permitted no light or sound, submerging its inhabitants in a timeless void without meaning. An endless slumber of unknowing.

Yet in that nothingness, something shifted.

The entity blinked—a slow movement, one that might have lasted a minute or a month. It was so hard to tell here, where time itself felt like an unspooled mass of tangled yarn. Yet the very act itself was noteworthy. How long had it been since he last opened his eyes? Months? Years? Decades? He didn't know. There was so very little he remembered.

He pondered the strangeness of his consciousness in the unmoving quiet. Then, a flicker disturbed the void. A small thing, as if a faint light were shining down a distant tunnel. Yet in the emptiness it was a shining landmark.

Even stranger, the entity felt it. The light resonated with him, called to him in a way that the empty darkness did not. It spoke to something deep inside of him, like someone shouting a name he had long since forgotten.

A name… What was his name? He couldn't remember. He had one, possibly more, of that he was sure. But though the memories existed, they felt disparate and fleeting. Each time he reached for the knowledge, it scattered before him like ash on the wind.

The faint speck of light grew, its brightness intensifying as it soared across the endless expanse. He felt it moving toward him with alarming speed. It accelerated even as he watched, streaking forward and stretching into a long, thin line of light. Before he could even consider what to do, it slammed into him.

The impact rocked the entity. He reeled at the sudden intensity of sensations returning to him. He had a form. He could experience things besides the darkness. Compared to what had come before, it was almost too much to bear. Yet it did not hurt. He remembered pain, and this was not it.

Once he'd collected himself—minutes, days, weeks later—he inspected the strand of light that hung from him as though attached. It was a thread. A single thin thread, tenuous and fragile in its youth, yet achingly familiar. Touching it elicited more sensations, familiar ones.

His scattered memories coalesced into a vague picture. One of a man sitting beside a warm hearth, the smell of burned offerings wafting up into the sky. A man that was not him, yet that he knew. It all felt so… right. How long had it been since he'd experienced this? Or had it been no time at all?

Even as he considered the question, the entity felt his eyes droop once more. He fought with all his might to keep them open, but he was tired. Even this small period of wakefulness had drained him. His eyelids continued sliding shut as though pulled by teams of horses. Slowly, inevitably, he lost his valiant fight and felt them drift closed.

Sleep clawed at him, pulling him back into oblivion. The last thing he saw before succumbing to the darkness was a second speck of light appearing in the distance.

***

Tiberius leaned forward, his chin resting on one fist. Before him, a group of his officers stood in a semicircle within the confines of his command tent. One of them—Secundus—had stepped forward to give a status report, as the one in charge of recruitment and training.

"...The new recruits are on average older than we would normally scout for—an effect of this place's culture considering men to be adults at eighteen—yet that should not pose a problem. They seem to be confused by our methods, but most are willing to adopt them fairly quickly…"

Recruitment was going slightly better than expected. Tiberius kept his face impassive but was inwardly pleased with the progress the new auxiliaries were making. They wouldn't be ready for a real battle for a few months, but apparently, a few of them had the option to change their class into something related to the Legion. Of course, this would reset their progress, but it was still worthwhile in his opinion.

After finishing his report on the new recruits, Secundus stepped back and allowed the next officer to take the floor. This one detailed the firebreaks they had cut in the forest to prevent the continued blaze from spreading further. Evidently, Quintus and his party's actions had resulted in quite a large swath of forest being burned to the ground already, and that damage would only spread if left unattended. But considering their situation, Tiberius was not particularly inclined to say they had acted rashly.

He only paid the minimal amount of attention needed for the report. It was clear that the rest of the forest would not burn down, and so he trusted his officers to take care of the assortment of other small issues and considerations raised without his direct input. Instead, he allowed his thoughts to be diverted toward the other numerous tasks that required his attention.

Eventually, the meeting ended, and the other officers took their leave. After they'd filed out of his command tent, leaving him alone with his aide, Tiberius pulled out a wax tablet from his desk to review. Inscribed on its surface was a record of Quintus's newest status sheet.

Information:

Name: Quintus

Age: 43 (XLIII)

Class: Legionnaire – Primus Pilus (Legendary)

Level: 1 (I)

Experience: 141,924 / 600,000 (C̅X̅L̅MCMXXIV / D̅C̅)

Stats:

Strength: 13 (XIII)

Dexterity: 12 (XII)

Constitution: 11 (XI)

Charisma: 11 (XI)

Wisdom: 9 (IX)

Intelligence: 9 (IX)

Titles:

Born to Fight

Bonds of Brotherhood

Bane of Cats (I)

Bane of Spiders (II)

Boss Slayer (I)

Titanslayer

Skills:

[Swordsmanship] (Uncommon) - Lvl 5 (Individual)

[Voice of Command] (Uncommon) - Lvl 3 (Individual)

[Heavy Blow] (Uncommon) - Lvl 3 (Individual)

[Battlefield Intuition] (Uncommon) - Lvl 6 (Individual)

[Sure Footing] (Common) - Lvl 1 (Individual)

[Marching] (Common) - Lvl 8 (Legion)

[Shield Wall] (Uncommon) - Lvl 5 (Legion)

[Unity] (Rare) - Lvl 1 (Cohort)

[Stab] (Common) - Lvl 9 (Century)

[Group Tactics] (Uncommon) - Lvl 3 (Contubernium)

After his latest expedition, the Primus Pilus had made a point to visit the class stone and transcribe his status—helpfully including roman numerals in addition to the strange shorthand numbers that seemed unique to this land. Various notes, improvements, and detailed descriptions filled the margins of the tablet in a tight scrawl, while additional tablets from Gaius and Quintus provided additional explanations and insights about the changes. ʀΆꞐổ฿Еs̈

Tiberius frowned at the tablet. Despite his exploits, Quintus was still level one. All of the Legionnaires were. While he obviously was new to the strange magic that this world called the "System," even Tiberius could tell that wasn't normal. Marcus's information had indicated very clearly that defeating an area boss should earn at least one of the things, if not more.

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Still, the shortcoming did not bother Tiberius as much as it might have. It didn't seem to pose a problem. His men were obviously still quite capable and effective in combat. And besides, they had seen plenty of improvements in other areas—specifically, in skill levels.

Tiberius scanned Quintus's report. His skills had seen quite an impressive rise in levels—[Swordsmanship] in particular. The man had already been among the best of the Legion, but now? He stood head and shoulders above any other soldier in proficiency. The man himself noted as much, and after seeing a few practice spars, Tiberius knew for a fact that it was no exaggeration. The fact that his abilities also corresponded to a higher skill level than any other man seemed to indicate that the System's numbers really did mean something.

The other matter worth noting were the new titles listed on the man's status. All members of Quintus's contubernium had gained a few after fighting the area boss.

[Boss Slayer (I): Defeat an area boss. +5% to all stats.]

[Titanslayer: Defeat an enemy 10 or more levels above you. +10% to all stats.]

At first, Tiberius had assumed that the titles were just that—descriptors and awards for achievements that the System considered noteworthy. Yet apparently they also came with benefits of their own. According to Marcus, that was one of the reasons such things were widely sought and considered quite desirable. Even if most were exceedingly difficult to actually acquire. Most people would never earn a title in their lives, so the bard had more or less skimmed over the point in his initial explanation about this world's magics.

Fortunately, that hadn't been a problem for Quintus. The man had quickly gathered an assortment of mostly combat-oriented titles in their brief time here. And he wasn't the only one. Many of the ones listed on his status were shared across the entire Legion—Tiberius included. Bane of Spiders and Bane of Cats in particular fell into that category, each granting a damage bonus to the respective creature type as a reward for defeating large numbers of them. Considering that Tiberius himself had not engaged in combat with the local wildlife, they clearly operated off of different logic than the more personalized ones.

Of course, Tiberius had his own collection of useful titles as well.

[Emperor of Rome: Recognized ruler of the Roman Empire. +100% to effectiveness of charisma and charisma-based effects. Increased resistance to charisma-based effects of Roman Empire citizens and other recognized rulers.]

According to the bard, charisma apparently encouraged people to follow him, but also shielded him from such influences when exuded by others It also helped one become more sensitive to social cues and other people's emotional states. Despite that, Tiberius wasn't exactly sure what to think about the title. Being emperor required a lot more than simply charisma, after all. But being insulated from manipulations and understanding people's motives better would be quite useful indeed. He'd wished he had something like this back in the Senate. It would have saved him many years of headache, especially when he first joined.

Tiberius read one more time through all of Quintus's data before moving on to Gaius's report. Whereas Quintus had written about his personal developments and the praiseworthy actions of his men, Gaius's report took a more generalized approach. The man continued his work on researching the intricacies of the System and applying his findings to the entire Legion. And Quintus's exploits had apparently yielded quite a bit of information.

"...The Legion appears to share a common experience pool between its members. An inspection of different members' status screens yielded identical values in the 'Experience' field across the board. Not only that, but these numbers uniformly increased in conjunction with the destruction of captured monsters. Such findings suggest that the Legion's level will remain at one until such time as its collective experience pool is filled, at which time it will enjoy the benefits of leveling in unison…"

Tiberius frowned. For all of the positive traits that Gaius possessed, it seemed brevity was not one of them. Still, the information was valuable. The idea that the Legion's slow leveling would continue on into the future was frustrating, but not entirely negative. The report even theorized that continuing to have such large level differences between themselves and their opponents would offer ample opportunities to gain more titles and larger amounts of experience than most. At least, so long as they were prepared.

"...In addition to experience, the Legion also appears to share a stamina pool of sorts with regards to skills. When physical exertion is outputted, each individual Legionnaire still takes the brunt of their own exhaustion. However, when the strain comes from skill activations or actions of a more mystical nature, such actions seem to draw from the energy of one's brethren in order to lessen the burden. A single man utilizing a [Reckless Charge] skill, for example, will find himself able to perform the feat many more times than would be expected before beginning to feel exhaustion in conjunction with other men standing idle nearby. While it is apparent that these effects have a limit, the exact range is still under investigation…"

That particular passage proved a bit difficult for Tiberius to parse, and not just because of the wording. The very concept felt difficult to grasp. One man's efforts at making camp couldn't exhaust another. How did that make any sense? Perhaps he'd have to ask Gaius for more details on that front, or even some demonstrations.

"...Skill levels, however, do not appear to operate by the same shared principle. Skills are leveled individually and reflect each man's personal proficiency in an area. Those who have previously demonstrated a high degree of expertise in a skill experience accordingly swift rises in their associated ranks. However, attempts to level a skill novel to a man—for example, a trade blacksmith attempting to learn [Basket Weaving]—are comparatively quite slow.

"As such, specialization according to one's own training continues to prove a particularly viable option. This also explains why the skill levels achieved by the vast majority of Legionnaires already far outstrip the norm that would be expected of a level one individual, based on information from our bardic ally. One notable exception can be found in the [Breathing] skill, which appears to level incredibly slowly regardless of user. Of the three members of the Legion assigned the skill, only one—Septimus of the second cohort—has managed to raise it to level three. I have removed the men from the project, but Septimus has requested leave to continue working with the skill…"

"Lucius?"

His aide responded from where he stood. "Yes, Legatus?"

"Remind me to speak with Gaius about the value of more concise reports."

The man stifled a chuckle. "Yessir."

Tiberius mulled over the information. The mechanics of skill leveling seemed to make sense. How could one man's practice with the blade grant knowledge and expertise to another? Yet despite that, the note on [Breathing] baffled Tiberius. He'd assumed the skill was one of the many common ones granted only for posterity's sake. Indeed, it seemed as though such an essential skill would be easy to master. But apparently it wasn't.

He signed off on the request. He had no problem with allowing Septimus to continue exploring the skill, so long as it did not affect his other duties. Still, the fact that Tiberius even had to weigh in on this matter struck him as odd. He made a mental note to speak with Gaius about delegating such decisions and taking initiative to decide minor matters on his own.

After finishing the reports, Tiberius settled back in his chair. All in all, the information painted quite the picture of their situation. The general conclusion was that the Legion would level up slowly, as they needed to do so all together.. However, with their skills progressing at their current pace, they would be able to fight enemies and take on challenges significantly above their own level. This, in turn, would help them level up faster, gain more titles, and further increase their skills.

The recommendation, therefore, was to ensure that everyone had a few core skills related to combat that they could fall back on while also selecting other skills to suit their individual needs. Tiberius had already directed his centurions to oversee most of these skill assignments and ensured they had the authority to assign group skills. He himself had ensured that all Legionnaires had [Marching] and [Shield Wall], something he could do as the Legatus. Quintus's reports on how effective the [Shield Wall] was against monsters only reinforced its necessity.

After storing the information away in his head, Tiberius looked over one last tablet that Gaius had left him. It contained a list of all the new skills available to the Legion. Apparently, they had discovered that the Legion also shared unassigned skills. Any skill that was assigned by a single Legionnaire immediately became available for any other to assign going forward. Even better, if a Legionnaire was offered a skill and rejected it, other Legionnaires could still be offered that skill in the future. This made their situation extremely different from the perilous one Marcus had described when Tiberius first picked his skills.

Now, it had become standard practice for every Legionnaire to accept any new skills offered to them, no matter how useless they might seem. This ensured those skills would be permanently available to the Legion. And that meant that their list was constantly growing. Gaius had enlisted the scribes' help in categorizing and documenting each and every one on a regular basis.

As he scanned the list of new skills from yesterday—this one shorter than the last, yet still quite long—his eyes lingered at one entry in particular.

"Lucius?"

"Yes, Legatus?"

"Do you have any idea what…" Tiberius squinted at the unfamiliar word. "[Voodoo] is?"

The aide paused in thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Can't say I do, sir. One of this place's strange practices, I'd imagine?"

"Perhaps." That was likely true, but it certainly didn't explain how one of his men had earned it. He penned a quick request for more information on the skill out of curiosity.

Tiberius set the request aside, pulling another stack of tablets toward himself. Many centurions had spent several hours poring over the skill lists and submitting requests with one to three core skills to assign to the men under their command. He scanned through them, stamping them all with his seal with only a few brief comments at most. He didn't want to interfere with operations at this level. Still, he noted that the centuries generally seemed to choose specialization as he'd hoped. The variety of approaches could prove useful and informative.

Eventually, a messenger poked his head into the tent and saluted. "Legatus Tiberius? It's nearly time for your next meeting."

Setting the tablet in his hands back onto the desk, Tiberius stood. "Very well. Let's be off."

Tiberius and his aide followed the man out of the tent and toward his next destination. His legs appreciated the opportunity to stretch as he considered his approach for the coming meeting. With everything else going on, the three individuals that Quintus had found in the forest had not been the absolute highest of priorities. However, it was finally time for him to determine their fates.

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