As I lay on the ground staring at the buried arrows, I felt two pulse messages signaling an "Ambush" and one pulse message that was half constructed roll over me. The mental energy ripples tearing across the valley, carrying desperate cries of danger and silent pleas for aid, caused me to freeze in momentary shock.

Given how Markus and I were attacked, they're all dead. I thought with certainty. I had long grown used to seeing and feeling the death of fellow legionaries. What was getting to me was the coordination of the deaths. Or, more accurately, the near-simultaneous attacks. It was in no way normal, and none of us trained and seasoned scouts detected it beforehand.

And that did not bode well for my survival.

How did they even find all of us? Find and attack one group, maybe two, sure. But locating us all four and attacking simultaneously was on a whole different level and was something the beastkin had never done before… A shiver ran down my spine at the train of thought. Unless it isn't the beastkin? But who else could it be?

Snapping out of my thoughts as the need for action flared within me, one of my hands reached for my gladius while the other pushed my torso off the ground, allowing me to scoot my legs clear of Optio Veriskol. There were at least two enemies nearby, and remaining on the ground was an excellent way to get killed.

Jumping into a crouch, I finished drawing my sword and turned to my right, looking down the hill we climbed earlier. Eyes flicking at the arrows buried in the ground to my left, I followed the trajectory back down the hill again, still not seeing the archers.

Not willing to stand in place as I searched for archers, I broke into a run diagonally down the hill. My eyes scoured the hillside for any motion or the outline of the figures I knew had to be nearby, as the foliage did not allow for a long shot. I even sent out a small pulse to cover the nearby area, but I found nothi—

Catching a flicker of movement twenty feet to my left next to the base of a tree surrounded by small bushes, I dove into a roll down the hill. Not being a complete idiot, I coated my blade in a layer of mental energy, but I was somewhat distracted when I felt my cloak tug on my shoulders as it flared out behind me. With the world spinning mid-roll, I heard a thump of something heavy slamming the ground to my rear and the cracking of wood a moment later.

Coming to my feet, I pulled back the small tendril I extended from my neck to hold my arrows in place and combined it with the one on my blade. My eyes locking on a… heat shimmer around a bush? The fuck is that? Not letting my confusion stop me for more than a moment, I flattened the tendrils into a shield for my chest and head.

Before I could advance a step toward the threat, the shimmering air became blotchy until the center portion of the shimmer transformed into falling sparks of light that vanished into nothing. The effect spread outward from the initial disturbance, and the edges of whatever this was rapidly devolved into a collection of swirling colors.

Looking through the gap in what I was starting to think of as a hole in the world revealed the same bush I was looking at before. Except now, there were three figures before it, and some of the nearby bush's limbs had been broken.

My eyes locked on the unmistakable forms of two beastkins. They were hanging in the air, their bows having fallen to the ground, probably from shock when their necks were clamped in Markus's iron grip. Both creatures' clawed hands scratched at his gloved hands and arms, trying to pry open his fingers, but it was like a child fumbling against the strength of an adult. Futile.

Seeing that the situation was handled, I sent out a pulse scanning the surrounding area again. I picked up Markus, but even as I was looking at the beastkins, I couldn't feel the voids I was expecting. Like the beastkin before, it was more like a muffled patch instead of a void, making it easy to miss if you weren't looking for it specifically.

Looking past the trio in the swirling light that continued to disintegrate, I saw the inside of the veil made everything appear slightly gray. And it can hide them. That thought sent a shiver of terror running down my spine. Ignoring what would likely be the cause of my death, I focused on the present.

Quickly checking that I was hidden below the rim of the hill, I crouched, pushing aside the stiffness in my body and still partly clouded thoughts. Taking a moment, I scanned my surroundings again, falling into the mindset of a scout as I moved across the slope to join Markus and his captives.

Seeing him effortlessly overpower the adult beastkins, I could guess what was happening. Markus didn't like advertising it, but he was training to become a knight. He had the mental energy reserves it required, and that was the biggest hurdle.

Now, all he needed was to practice and hopefully get some pointers, though he looked well on his way to comprehending how to enhance himself. Once he got the hang of enhancing his body with mental energy, allowing himself to increase his strength, speed, and durability to superhuman levels at will, all he had to do was attune himself to an element.

Markus must have waited for them to shoot an arrow at me, then used his surging strength to reach them in a second. I was kind of insulted that he treated my life so carelessly, but it was an effective strategy in the end, and that was what really mattered.

As I made my way over, Markus released a pulse message, calling for a status report from any scouts. At the same instant, the dome, already struggling to maintain its shape, blew apart like it had been caught in a strong wind.

Pausing, I looked at the now unobscured figures. Mental energy can affect the shield? I thought in surprise. That seems like a pretty big weakness. Then again, who can indiscriminately waste such a large amount of mental energy when nothing appears to be around?

Walking up to Markus, I froze as his form blurred in a burst of motion. The gust of wind from his movements kicked up a wave of dust and leaves that blew over my feet. When my view cleared, I saw my optio now crouched over the pair of beastkin, having smashed their heads into the ground. But it was a hollow achievement, and we both knew it, as Markus's face twisted with greater rage and loss every moment his pulse message was left unanswered.

The two beastkin were writhing on the ground, mouths open in silent screams. Their eyes bulged as if trying to pop out of their heads as blood began to dribble out of their mouths. Which was predictable, as their necks were slowly being crushed into mush by the irate legionary.

I felt a moment of pity for the two, but it passed. The beastkins tried to kill us, and I would assume their compatriots killed the rest of my team… It was understandable that Markus needed to vent some of his rage at the loss of his men.

After the two stopped twitching, he looked more like he was just using them as an outlet for his grief. After their writhing deaths, suddenly, the only sound was the dripping of blood and the shifting of leaves. I stood there momentarily, looking at the scene, uncertain of what to do next.

Then Markus looked up, catching my eye, before nodding towards the ridge. Saluting fist to chest in acknowledgment of the silent order, I turned and started walking. Markus might push for a lax demeanor most of the time — and it was reasonable as we were scouts — but all men had a limit, and in such moments, formality and professionalism were best. More to the point, I didn't feel like pissing him off after what I had just seen.

Gliding back up the slope, I lowered my body to the ground as I reached the summit and crawled forward the last bit. No need to outline myself against the sky and make a target, after all. Crawling into a bush, I slowly moved some branches out of the way to get a better view.

The mass of beastkin was still moving in one large group across the bottom of the valley, which made sense as only a few minutes had passed, but I wasn't taking anything for granted right now. I couldn't see all of the beastkins at once, but I could catch enough glimpses of them through the treetops to give me a good idea of how significant this vanguard was. And it was the biggest I had ever seen.

We had been in our overwatch position long enough that we would have noticed any other large groups that had passed by. So this had to be the beastkin vanguard, though vanguard wasn't the best word choice, as it implied some kind of military discipline and order.

Any group of beastkin more than a few hundred had smaller groups scattered around it that often added up to more than the main host in the center. The groups would frequently get sidetracked but always return to following the central mass soon afterward.

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If this turned out to not be the case, then there was an even more serious problem than the beastkin using weapons, having gear, and concealing themselves with some strange casting. A change in well-documented behavior that had been studiously recorded over thousands of battles over more than two thousand years of the Republic's history was a bad omen for what was coming.

To my eye, the group of beastkin looked like an untrained mass of disorder, ready to smash against a legion positioned before it and be scattered to the winds… It was a trap.

Beastkin hoards always looked that way, which was one of the main reasons spring tribunes — along with the unfortunate legionaries they led — had such a significant casualty rate on their first deployment to the Northern Line. They underestimated the beastkins based on appearance alone and forgot their training while ignoring advice from the seasoned centurions.

Disorganized as the beastkin might appear, any attack against the group would be instantly responded to with a sudden and savage counterassault. Their responses might be basic, like trying to envelop the legion because every beast wanted to rip and rend flesh, but that didn't take away from the tactic's effectiveness.

It was almost like the union that everyone within a legion formed if you went by reactions and not thoughts. It allowed them to quickly react to the changes of a fight as nearly a single entity.

The thing was, the beastkin never showed any consideration to anything like a retreat or offering quarter, let alone granting it. Any time a hoard was confronted, one side would be killed to the last before the battle ended. And that went for everyone, including the women camp workers and the children.

Even in the short time Markus and I had been busy, the hoard of beastkin had traveled about a fourth of a mile into the three-mile-long valley. Which was a stark reminder of the true terror of a beastkin hoard. Regardless of the terrain, the speed and endurance with which they moved was faster than any legion.

An average beastkin, canine, bear, feline, wolverine, or what have you, can be outrun by a horse going at a decent canter, but only in the short term. Beastkins seem to have an endless supply of energy and can have their entire hoard move at the equivalent of a fast trot all day and night for weeks. It didn't matter if they were in a desert or if all the food was scorched along their path; they just kept coming.

No legion wanted to be caught flat-footed by a beastkin hoard. Either the legion would be hounded relentlessly as they were inevitably enveloped before having to fight after being worn down from fleeing. Or the legion would be set upon before they could build a proper defensive position and have to fight the physically superior beastkins on level ground or with minor earthworks. Of the two, digging in was considered the better option because you weren't out running a beastkin in the open unless you were a stone's throw from some refuge.

Regardless of what the legatus decides, the legion will sustain heavy losses if it survives at all. At least they seem to be taking their time. This way, it will take them longer to reach the Triad. I thought in resignation at the coming conflict. We can get the word out to more villages.

I briefly imagined the possibility of the 15th Legion coming out here to ambush the hoard in the field but immediately rejected it. Putting aside that by the time we got back and reported the beastkins' presence, they could be anywhere, why would we leave a fortress when the beastkins would come to us.

"Shit~!" I moaned as a large shadow streaked over the ground, making me break out in a cold sweat. I clamped my eyes closed for a long moment before I looked up. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart skipped a beat while my eyes widened in fear.

"Blood and ashes," I said hoarsely, "the crows are gonna feast soon…" I moved as fast as a slug as I crawled closer to the bush's trunk, keeping one eye on the sky the whole time, looking for what I hadn't bothered to search for before.

Then I saw it.

Far off in the distance, I could see a black mass that looked a lot like a storm cloud. Except it was all alone, with no other clouds in the sky. What was worse was that second by second, the mass changed as portions speared out before receding, and it was steadily growing larger. That's… not a cloud.

Also, even if only faintly, I thought I could just make out individual spots of black diving between the ground before spiraling back up to the flock. If I was closer, which I didn't want to be, I might have even been able to see what they were doing dropping so low, but that sounded like a horrible idea.

Several blurring streaks shot down from above, causing me to jump in surprise, even as I knew they were around. Eyes darting to the objects, I saw what could almost be mistaken as large birds hovering above the valley before they landed in a glade at the edge of the hoard. There were eight of the bird beastkins in total, and they stood tall as they strutted around the edges of a glade, keeping back the other beastkins gathering around.

Watching the birds, I looked on in confusion as I saw them clear out an area in the middle of the now-stopped hoard. Freezing in place, I stopped breathing as it felt like the hand of death grasped my heart. Nothing happened for long seconds, then I saw a streak of gold drop from the sky. Strands of bright yellow fire trailed in its wake, burning in the air for long seconds before vanishing.

The orb of gold crashed to the ground in the center of the eight other birds, and a shimmering wave of gold flecks expanded out from the impact point, enveloping the clearing. In its wake was the scorched ground of an intense forest fire, but the fire never touched the trees as it stopped short.

Rapidly pulling back over the rim as I crawled through the brush, I gave up my attempts at stealth and rushed over to Markus. The human was crouched over one of the canine beastkins, and he was searching through their belongings. Probably coming to a similar conclusion as me about how fucked this situation was.

Sliding to a stop next to him, I clapped my hand on his shoulder while keeping one eye on the sky. We were under a tree, but it was better to start keeping one eye pointed up now, just in case.

"Markus." I hissed with quiet urgency, trying to get his attention. "Markus!" I said slightly louder, giving him a little shake when he didn't instantly respond.

"What is it, Green!" He barked, almost snarling at me as his head snapped to the side to look me in the eyes. I only gave him the briefest of glances to ensure I had his attention before I returned to looking up.

"The vanguard numbers at least two thousand. And I saw birds land in their center. No idea what they are doing, but one showed what looked like a Knight Ignis's abilities." I saw his face pale, and his body rocked back like I had just struck him. "There was also a flock of hundreds, if not thousands, of more birds a couple valleys to the northwest."

His mouth moved for a moment without any sound coming out.

Finally, I saw him visibly swallow his disbelief and rejection as he spoke in a hoarse, scratchy voice that caught in his throat at first, "Ar— are you sure? Could it have be—

Cutting him off, I said, "Check if you want." Looking him in the eye, I took a deep breath and faced reality as I said, "…It was fire… golden fire, but still fire." I finished the last in a rush, as if I didn't really believe what I saw. I knew some didn't want to believe it, but I knew what I witnessed. After sighing in resignation, I stated, "We need to leave for the legion now." I didn't want to disobey him, but my duty was clear at this point. The legion needed to know.

My eyes caught on the bodies as I turned away, and I paused as I remembered their strange ability to hide. Like I needed to worry about more…

"Did you find out how they were concealing themselves?" I asked as I rocked from heel to toe, anxious to get moving. I had to ask, though. The information was necessary, and any answers Markus could give would be worth the wait.

Glancing down at the bodies, Markus's face twisted in rage for a moment before he kicked a beastkin, gesturing to a broken clump of string, wood, feathers, and a broken stone in its center attached to his waist.

"When I arrived before them, that item was glowing faintly. When I scattered the… shrouding? Concealment? Whatever it was, with my pulse, the item broke." His voice took on a tone of contemplation, and his eyes clouded over as he drifted off in thought before they snapped into focus again. "Doesn't matter now, as it stopped working, and I doubt it will start again."

Studying the pile of junk for a moment, something tickled the back of my mind, but I ignored it, throwing another glance to the sky before looking Markus in the eye. Hesitantly, I started, "Domine—

"I know," He said, waving his hand through my words to cut me off, "we have to split up."

Taking a deep breath, Markus closed his eyes. I felt a shiver run down my spine as a wave of mental energy rolled out of him. I could tell from the feel of the pulse that he was looking for something, but I had no idea what.

Whatever it was, we didn't have the time. While Optio Veriskol concentrated, I began inching away, watching the ridge line. Scouts, out of every other branch of the legion, had more… latitude when it came to superiors.

It was not unknown for a scout to disappear right before a battle, not warning their superiors and thus the legion — who were abusing them somehow — of a coming attack. All they had to do was put themselves in a situation where they could rightfully claim they had to go to ground to avoid getting caught.

Who could say otherwise? The Inquisitors, at the thought, a shiver of fear caused goosebumps to rise across my skin. Or anyone who had the authority to read a mind, but at that point, speaking half-truths would probably get the scout out of trouble while exposing the persecution from their superior. But it was rare for a centurion, let alone tribune or prefect, to get involved in those situations. If you were wrong about the reason for reading another's mind, there would be consequences regardless of status.

So, scouts had a very loose chain of command, even with superiors within their own ranks. Most things would be overlooked as long as they returned with valuable intelligence. If there was one thing everyone learned in the legion fast, it was that nearly anything could be forgiven when you succeed.

Eyeing Markus standing like a statue, his eyes still closed, I was a second away from just turning and bolting. But my heart dropped to my feet when I saw his back stiffen and his face go as white as snow a moment after he released another pulse.

He turned to me, his eyes wide, and I saw him mouth the words, "Run Green." I didn't know if he actually said the words because everything was drowned out by a piercing screech that cracked over the forest.

It was the cry of a predator on the hunt, and if Markus said anything more, I had no idea. Because I had already turned and was running down the hill to the southeast.

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