Against all expectations, Marcus was still mostly sober by the time Gaius's messenger found him. But more importantly, he felt rejuvenated. A few hours of eating, drinking, and basking in the goodwill of an appreciative crowd had left him feeling as fresh as a new rose. And between the crowds he drew and the constant stream of Legionnaires rotating through, the innkeeper seemed exceedingly pleased as well.

Marcus placed his hand on a Legionnaire's shoulder as he stepped down from the stage. The man grabbed his elbow to steady him.

"Man, are you all right?" The Legionnaire asked.

"I'm fine," Marcus replied as he shook his head. The room spun slightly. "Just enjoyed myself a touch more than I intended to."

He'd only intended to play for a little bit, but the sheer enthusiasm of his audience had kept him going far past that. Still, he didn't regret it. Although he had wished that he'd made time to stop by a class stone. Between everything that had happened lately, he hadn't checked his status in quite a while. And while he could never be certain, he suspected that he'd find himself pleasantly surprised by the results.

The messenger nodded and released him. Marcus straightened, running a hand through his stylishly-mussed hair. "So. Where are we headed?"

"To the baron's—er, the emperor's estate." The Legionnaire corrected himself. "Tribune Gaius has requested that you bring your book. He said you'd know the one."

Marcus searched his memory for an embarrassingly long moment before realizing what the man meant. The book that was responsible for the Legion's appearance in this world. The strange leatherbound tome with the letters "SPQR" emblazoned on the front. As with all of his most valuable possessions, he made a point to keep it on him at all times. Still, the spell had long since been burned out of it. Maybe there was some other reason that Gaius wanted him to bring it?

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the late baron's estate. Marcus's exhausted legs hadn't been willing to carry him far, after all. The messenger led him outside of a large sitting room where Gaius was already waiting. They nodded to each other in a brief greeting.

"The mage is already inside." Gaius informed him.

Marcus winced. "Have we kept him waiting?"

Gaius chuckled. "No. You misunderstand. He's been working in there for a few hours now. I originally intended to have him meet us elsewhere, but my men have informed me that uprooting him is impossible. So we will go to him."

Nodding to one of the Legionnaires by the door, Gaius knocked twice, then led Marcus inside.

As soon as he stepped in, he could feel the Mage's presence. It was as though an unseen weight filled the room, making the air itself dense and hard to breathe. Yet compared to the wise, stoic sage he had expected, Marcus was rather surprised to see the Grand Mage bustling about with manic energy.

He scribbled on papers that had been haphazardly strewn about the room, whirling through the air with every step as though the man were channeling a small tornado of personal notes. Various pieces of arcane equipment lay forgotten across the floor like the forgotten playthings of some mad child. Ink blotches stained the man's face and hands where he'd either failed to notice them or simply been too impatient to clean them off.

The mage continued to pace and mutter to himself, running an ink-stained hand through his pure white hair as he penned some kind of arcane calculations. Gaius cleared his throat a few times to no effect. It wasn't until he spoke that the man noticed their presence.

"Grand Mage Claude? Emperor Tiberius sent me to meet with you."

"Eh?" Claude's head finally snapped up. His look of annoyance was immediately replaced with one of childlike excitement. "Ah! Finally! I thought you'd never show up!"

Suddenly, the mage was in front of them. Marcus was rather sure that he hadn't blinked. Either his speed was ungodly or he had literally teleported rather than walk the twenty feet or so that separated them. Either way, it set Marcus's hackles on edge. Especially once he tried to [Appraise] the man and got back nothing but question marks.

Claude grabbed one of Gaius's hands in both of his, shaking it vigorously. "Good to meet you, young man. I'm told you're the Legion's expert on System-related matters. Tell me, have you investigated the range limits of your shared stamina pool? I'm designing an experiment myself, but for some reason it's difficult for me to get one of you to agree to being teleported into the mountains alone."

Gaius smiled, his expression slightly bemused as though he'd been expecting such eccentricity. "It's good to meet you as well, Grand Mage. My name is Gaius, and this is my companion, Marcus."

Claude turned to regard Marcus. His eyes seemed to dissect him at a glance. "Oh-ho! A bard! A rare type, at that. And one with [Spellcraft] as well. Not a common choice among your kind, I hear, but one I approve of.

Marcus blinked. "You… you can see my skills?"

The old man laid a finger on the side of his nose. "Whoops. Didn't mean to let that one slip. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. But you've got a few impressive ones there for such a youngster. I might have a few recommendations for other synergies, if you're interested—"

"Perhaps after we finish." Gaius cut in. "First, I'd be more than happy to share my findings with you. Perhaps we should take a seat before doing so?"

Marcus had to hide his shock at the Legionnaire's brazenness. But rather than taking offense, the mage seemed to perk up. "Oh, where are my manners? Come, come! Let us talk."

The mage appeared on one of the low couches that sat in the center of the room. His knee bounced like that of an overactive child as he waited for Marcus and Gaius to clear the papers from the other and join him. However old this man truly was, he certainly didn't act his age. It was as though he wanted nothing more than to get up and run circles around them, such was his excitement.

The entire situation found Marcus in a rather rare position. He was, for once, at a loss for words. Thankfully, Gaius managed to maintain his composure.

"I heard that the emperor provided you with some of my notes." The Legionnaire began. He produced a sheaf of paper from a bag at his side. "I brought some updated summaries for your review. If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them. But I did want to ask about your training of our mages."

"Ah, wonderful!" Claude practically lunged forward and began rifling through the papers with alarming speed. His eyes scanned each page as he continued talking. "As for the training, that's being taken care of by my more senior apprentices. They and their students are working with your men as we speak."

"Right. Well, I had a question about that." Gaius continued. "I spoke with the man about his methods, and he mentioned that not a single one of our men is fit to be called a mage. However, I have personally seen many of them conjure magical effects with their skills."

"Ah! That's a common misconception." The Grand Mage made a dismissive gesture without looking up from his reading. "Most anyone with the right skill can invoke a magical effect. Your bard friend here is one example of that. But an actual mage is something else entirely. It's more of a specialized kind of build than an actual class, really. One that focuses on expanding one's magical capabilities past what you could normally get with ten skill slots."

"Really?" Gaius raised his eyebrows. Marcus could practically see him itching for a writing implement.

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Claude nodded. "There are six core skills you need to be a proper mage. [Mana Sense] allows you to tap into your mana pool, while [Mana Manipulation] lets you actually use it to fuel your spells rather than relying on stamina like every other skill does. [Spell Inscription] lets you actually write down any spells you come up with, while [Spellcraft] allows you to read them and produce an effect. Of course, if you don't want your grimoire to go up in flames every time you use a spell, you'll also need [Channeling] to force the reading to draw on your mana instead of the mana stored in the inscribed spell. And if you want to be casting with any level of consistency, then [Chanting] is also a must, though I suppose a bard like you likely has other skills that substitute for that one."

Claude rattled off the information so quickly that it left Marcus reeling. Gaius, for his part, had managed to produce a pen and paper from somewhere and was scribbling madly as Claude continued his impromptu lecture.

"Of course, some will argue that any real mage needs [Rituals] as well, but that's really only if you're trying to study and work with the fundamentals of magic. I found that it's not necessary. Or [Hand Getsures], but that's more of a crutch. The other six are crucial. Especially [Spell Inscription]. If you can't create and write down spells, you're nothing more than a blunt weapon. The ability to create spells to counter any problem is the hallmark of a true mage."

"I see, I see." Gaius was writing feverishly. "And these six skills are non-negotiable? Are there other options for substitutions? Can they evolve?"

The two men went back and forth, matching each other with their eagerness. Marcus was more than content to sit back for this discussion. He'd known some of the skills mentioned, of course, but not how they worked together like this. Becoming a mage was never a path that he'd seriously considered. He just liked the versatility granted to him by [Spellcraft], even if he did have to buy more written spell copies when he ran out.

"So what about the other four skills?" Gaius moved on to an adjacent topic. "Do those skills not matter?"

Claude waggled his hand back and forth. "Eh. Not really. Most mages pick a spell or two that they use very frequently so it can be cast without having to use any particular tools, or when they're out of mana."

"So a spell slotted as a skill will consume stamina instead of mana? Even if one possesses the other mage skills?"

"Correct!" Claude snapped his fingers and grinned widely. "Finally, a student that pays attention. Though I will say, the stamina to mana conversion is atrocious, it's better to use mana whenever possible. Even though the mage skills do consume stamina as well, the returns on it are considerable enough to make it worthwhile. That's another reason why none of your men are close to being called mages. Not a one of you have gotten so much as a whiff of your mana pool. So while you can use magical skills, you're doing it just like any other person would. Which means…"

"...That our mana pool is wholly untapped." Gaius finished, his expression thoughtful. "And if it's anything like our shared stamina pool…"

The Grand Mage's grin widened. "That is precisely what I'm interested in. I saw what you had done characterizing your Legion's shared stamina pool. Good work, by the way, if a little rudimentary. I have few suggestions as to follow-up experiments that we need to run. But if your mana pool operates the same way as I expect… Well, the combined mana pools of six thousand men is nothing to scoff at—especially as your level grows and your stats increase!"

The young Legionnaire tapped his pen against his paper as he considered the old man's words. "Given all of that… I would propose that we train a relatively small amount of mages. While we could theoretically make every Legionnaire a mage, doing so would essentially nullify any benefit of the shared mana pool while incurring the full cost of locking down all of their skill slots."

"Agreed." Claude nodded. "And way ahead of you. Come, come, let me show you. Your men should be working to pick up the appropriate skills as we speak…"

The Grand Mage practically leapt from his chair in his eagerness. He reached out for a moment as though to touch Marcus and Gaius both before seeming to remember himself. Instead, he actually used his legs and began bustling toward the door as they followed.

The trio headed down the hall and stepped into another sitting room. This one had been converted to a makeshift classroom of sorts, complete with makeshift desks manned by a few dozen Legionnaires. A large board at one end of the room was covered in scrawling arcane script that the men copied down. Their work was inspected by one of the other ancient men patrolling the room, who would either correct them or instruct them to begin again.

"Here." Claude gestured to the scene. "We managed to get them to pick up [Mana Sense] and [Mana Manipulation] already. The fact that only one needs to get the skill is a tremendous cheat, let me tell you. And someone already had a skill that'll substitute for [Chanting] for the moment. Now we're rotating between the last three skills until they pick them up.

"Of course, they'll need to be practiced after the fact as well. But as soon as they're all slotted, then we'll be able to finally test out that hypothesis about the mana pool. Though I suppose we can test it before [Spell Inscription] gets picked up, but, well, for the sake of completeness…"

Curious, Marcus took the time to [Appraise] these mages as well. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. Most were in the fifties. Even the weakest, the only mage who still had streaks of brown in his grey-and-white hair, was nearly level forty. Most of them would likely prove a match for Irina Spellforger. And with how many there were?

This room contained enough raw power to bring nations to their knees. And that was even before one considered Grand Mage Claude himself.

Marcus shuddered. He knew that the Grand Mage wanted to join the Legion. That alone was terrifying. If he brought his apprentices with him, and the shared mana pool matter worked as they suspected… the results would be monstrous.

The two men's attention turned away from the class. They began to speak about the Legionnaires' skills and the other peculiarities about the class, such as the feeling of dread that each one experienced when a man died. As they spoke, Marcus couldn't help but stare at the mage.

He hadn't gotten a chance to ask a single question about his identity and past exploits. But after feeling his presence and seeing the power of the men he called his "students", Marcus was fairly certain. This was exactly who he suspected. Even if he was quite different from the image painted in all those stories.

It made Marcus wonder. Had he really allied with dragons to fight off an eldritch god? Had he transformed the most powerful king in the land into a worm for offending him? How many of those stories were true, and how many were exaggerations?

He set the question aside for now. That wasn't important. What was important was the implications of this new partnership. If things got as out of hand as he feared, then was there anything he could do to soften the blow to the rest of the world? Granted, the Legion hadn't pursued destruction for destruction's sake. They seemed more interested in building cities than razing them to the ground. But would that change? Was he still delivering on the promise he'd made with Eleonora?

"Is it possible to recreate a spell inscription that has been used?" Marcus heard Gaius ask. "I don't mean for the one who wrote it to write it again, obviously."

"It depends." Claude hedged. "Usually, no. But if you have a specialist and the spell leaves behind enough of a trace… it is possible."

Gaius looked at Marcus meaningfully. He tried to suppress a grimace. He knew what the man was asking. But did he really want to risk letting loose another Legion on this world?

Not seeing a way out, Marcus reluctantly produced the leatherbound book responsible for the Legion's appearance in this world. Claude accepted it, flicking through its pages just as quickly as Gaius's earlier report. After a moment, he began muttering to himself and produced a book of his own from thin air.

"So?" Gaius asked after a few minutes.

"Eh? Ah!" Claude snapped out of his fugue state and shook himself. "Right. I can see that there was a very powerful spell here. Very powerful indeed." His eyes locked onto Marcus. "Did you cast it?"

"Yes." He admitted. "It's… the spell that brought the Legion to this world.

Claude froze, then groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. The motion left one of the books floating in midair. "A treasure like that, and you burned it up?! You fool! The things I could have learned from that script… Why, it would have been revolutionary!"

A flare of pressure threatened to squash Marcus flat as the mage thundered. The image of an eccentric old man gave way to reveal a glimmer of the Grand Mage's true terrifying might. Marcus struggled to even breathe under the weight of his anger.

Claude sighed, deflating slightly. "Ah, well. It can't be helped. At least you didn't botch the casting. But no, I can't recreate this, sadly."

The mage and Gaius returned to their conversation, leaving Marcus to sigh with relief. He felt as though both he and the world had dodged an arrow that he hadn't even seen in flight. His attempts to get the duke on their side were one thing. But considering the potential here… it seemed as though the conflicts so far would pale compared to the disaster that was coming.

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