Titan: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 4)

by Jez Cajiao

  “Ah! I get it,” the armorer said, nodding thoughtfully. “Okay, let me explain the Legion armor types for you, as I think that’ll make things a little easier to understand. First, you have the ‘standard’ Legion armor, which is a mix of ‘heavy’ and ‘medium,’ as outsiders would understand it. It’s heavy, because it’s composed plate and chainmail, with leather banding and more, but because it’s designed to ‘lock’ together, it reduces the overall weight and makes it more mobile through a lot of little tricks that the Legion armorers have developed over the centuries. We have the Legion Scouts next; they wear a mix of ‘light’ and ‘medium’ armor, specially treated to assist them in hiding, with movement as silent as is physically possible in the field. Next, we have the Speculatores Praetoriae armor, for the Elite scouts. The Speculatores Praetoriae are considered outside the standard chain of command, and while there are few of them, they have each earned the right to be the Elite. In the days of the Empire, a single team would have been responsible for everything from assassinations to monster hunting, to ‘questioning’ any nobility that might have stepped out of line. As such, their armor is of a higher quality than the standard or scout variants. It is both quiet, and strong, although we have lost the knowledge of most of the Enchantments that once made it the masterwork that it was. The wearers of that armor are generally accepted to be far more in need of protection and our aid in surviving.” Thornapple nodded over at an armor stand in one corner that was being carefully assembled, before going on. “Then last and most important of all, we have the Praetorian Guard armor. This is the ultimate Legion armor; each set must be crafted to mark the passage of an armorer from Journeyman to Master, even if only within our own ranks. The Praetorian suit is far stronger, heavier, and yet more flexible than even the scout and standard variants, forged of rare metals and heavily enchanted, even if we can barely make the runes activate these days.”

  She smiled sadly with the admission, nodding to Lydia. “As you’re a member of Lord Jax’s personal retinue and, as you call it, the ‘tank’, my recommendation would be for you to work towards either Speculatores Praetoriae or full ‘standard’ armor, but I’ll warn you, you’ll need to increase your stats before you can wear either. You’re a bit… scrawny…”

  I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Lydia’s mortified expression, and the careful way that Thornapple had said it.

  “It’s okay, Thornapple. Honestly, we all know we need to seriously improve ourselves to be able to wear full Legion armor properly,” I said, still chuckling.

  “I’m glad you’re not offended, Lord Jax. Okay, I’ll need to examine you all and make some notes, get some measurements, and then late tonight, we can have a fitting? With a final fitting in the morning? What time are you planning on leaving?” she asked, and I shrugged.

  “We’ve got a meeting with the researchers first thing tomorrow, so following that, I’d say; why?”

  “Because‒and I need to say this‒we don’t have enough time. Any extra time you can give me tomorrow will be appreciated. To make this happen, we will work through the night, but still, if you could hold off an extra few hours?” she asked hopefully.

  I paused and considered her request. The timetable was arbitrary, as I’d just made it up, that was true, but I needed to get back to the Great Tower as soon as possible. Even an hour lost here could mean defeat when Barabarattas and his forces came for the Tower, but… we also needed to level as much as we could, and I couldn’t afford to walk away from any chance to do that. Plus, the engineers needed time to work on the Battleship. Besides, if we died because our armor was shit, then it was all over anyway.

  “Noon,” I said eventually. “I can give you until noon; that way you have a bit longer to finish up, and we have a bit longer to train and prepare, but then we need to move on.”

  “Thank you!” Thornapple said, sagging in relief. “I warn you, it’ll not be my best work, but it will be the best I can do in the time I have.”

  “Then I can’t ask for more,” I said graciously. “Once we’re back to the Tower, I’ll ask that you work on getting a proper forge set up, and then start to build us some more specialized pieces, so spend the next few days thinking about that, and what resources you’ll need, okay?”

  “Ah… to set up a forge, or to make custom armor?” she asked cautiously.

  “Both, either… why?” I replied distractedly as she stepped in close and lifted my right arm, holding a knotted piece of string to my armpit and grunting as she felt my current armor shift.

  “This really wasn’t even fitted to you, was it?” She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “I’m going to need you to take it all off…” she started to say, stepping back as I started to strip the battered pieces off. I saw the look on her face as I did so, even though she hid it quickly.

  “Yeah, and I’ll need new clothes as well,” I said to her. “Clean ones… preferably without bloodstains…and that fit.”

  “Yes, you definitely need those…” She wrinkled her nose involuntarily at the acrid smell. Beyond a quick wash down when I’d first awakened and Oracle had been feeling frisky–with an icy cold fountain of water, I’ll add‒I’d not had a proper bath or a shower since the fights in the arena. The Skyking raid had followed immediately after, so now, after several days of sweat, blood, and more soaking into my armor, I had to admit to myself that I was a little... ripe… “I’ll send for the clothiers as well, and share your measurements with them, if that’s acceptable?” she offered, and I nodded thankfully.

  “I’ll go find a river or something to dunk in as well…” I muttered, having caught a whiff of myself.

  “Let me get your measurements first, please…” she asked with a smile, going back to work, and making notes in a small journal as she went. “As I was saying, though, I can set up a field forge easily enough, and we brought all the complicated and expensive sections of our full forge, leaving only the heaviest and largest parts. The new forge will be achievable fairly soon, although it’ll be a few months to get it fully built and as good as we can make it. The custom armor, though…” She paused hesitantly.

  “Yes?” I asked, waiting.

  “Well, you know the Legion doesn’t do more than four armor designs, right? Scout, Standard Legion, Speculatores Praetoriae, and Praetorian Guard. That’s it,” she said slowly. “It’s law…”

  “Is it?” I asked, raising one eyebrow. “Law, I mean? Or is it tradition?”

  “Well… in the Legion, tradition… kinda is law…” Thornapple said slowly, sneaking peeks at me from under her eyebrows as she worked.

  “And would learning new armor designs really be a bad thing?” I asked. “Would you hate it that much?”

  “No!” she said quickly. “No, we wouldn’t hate it at all! Well, most of us wouldn’t…”

  “Let me guess. It’s tradition, so you can’t change it, right? And there’s someone within the leadership structure that’s making sure of that?” I asked, already having a certain Tribune in mind.

  “I… uh… we’d not be opposed, my lord!” she repeated, bowing her head quickly.

  “Good,” I said, straightening up and watching the huge woman that was trying to both remain unnoticed, and drop hints as subtly as she could.

  “Thornapple, I need to make some changes to the way the Legion does things. Amongst them is the belief that change is bad. Because I’ve got a goddamn robot‒horse‒thing down in storage that’s an amazing feat of engineering, and I can’t believe that things like that exist, yet our armor is as basic as it gets. We’re making new weapons and armor. Yes, there will be a uniform design, because that’s more efficient, but it doesn’t have to be something from a goddamn thousand years ago. Your job, as the chief armorer, is to come up with some new designs. In fact, make me the absolute best armor you can imagine; spare no expense, and create something you’d be seriously proud of, okay?”

  “Anything I want?” she pressed cautiously. “I can have the other smiths work on
this with me?”

  “Sure, if they want to,” I said, shrugging. “Seriously, Thornapple, I’d never really looked at the Legion armor properly before I wore it in the Arena, and it is stunning. The craftsmanship is fantastic, but I think you can make more, if you’re set free… so, make it the very best you can, and take a lot of notes as you go.”

  “Why notes?” She asked frowning.

  “Because once you’ve got it as perfect as you can make it, we’ll test it, and if it passes the tests, you’re going to be making a lot more of them for the Legion of the Tower.”

  “Uh... Lord Jax, you don’t understand. Making the kind of armor I want to make, it’ll take us months, weeks at least, and that’s just to make one…” she said hesitantly. “Add to that the various different shapes and sizes of the wearers, not to mention species…”

  “Trust me, Thornapple…”

  “Just call me Thorn, my lord,” she said, smiling.

  “Then call me Jax,” I responded. “But seriously, trust me on this, Thorn. I can teach you ways to speed up production like you’ll never believe. Standardization and factory builds are going to rock your world…”

  “Sta…” she started to ask, and I shook my head.

  “Honestly, not important right now, and not something we can do anything with. For now, if you can kit us all out in Speculatores Praetoriae kit, that’s my team and I here…” I gestured around at my team. “…and give Lydia Praetorian Guard armor…”

  “No,” Thorn said flatly, cutting me off.

  “What?” I asked, nonplussed.

  “No, Jax… no, my lord,” she insisted, shaking her head, and meeting my eyes steadily, all doubt gone. “I can give you, specifically, Speculatores Praetoriae armor. Honestly, I could even give you full Praetorian armor, should you wish it, although you wouldn’t even be able to use it, but you are our lord and it is yours by right. But… to give the others the same, even if we had enough… it would make the entire Legion hate them.”

  “Hate?” I asked, even more confused.

  “Yes, my lord,” she said, sighing. “I’m sorry, but the Legionnaires out there, they train their entire lives to be chosen for the Speculatores Praetoriae, and none of our Legion, or any other we have had contact with, have been able to earn a place in the Praetorian Guard since the fall of the Emperor, understandably. If you then jump your own people over their career-long dreams, especially when yours are… untested… it will only drive a wedge between them and your people. Add to that, we have a single set of Praetorian Guard armor, as each armorer is required to make one to pass their apprenticeship, but that is all we have. The other remaining pieces were smelted down, as is custom.”

  “Well, shit.” I closed my eyes in dismay. “Okay… can you give us all basic armor, then? Hell, anything better than what we’re wearing now?” I asked her, receiving a firm nod in return.

  “I can provide you all with basic Legion armor; the scout variety for most of you, and the heavier infantry version for your… ‘tank’,” she agreed quickly.

  “How long will that take?”

  “If we work through the night, we can have it ready for noon tomorrow,” Thorn said, pausing to make sure I was fine with that. When I nodded, she relaxed, clearly relieved, and went back to making notes in her journal. After a handful of minutes, she moved on to Lydia, and I took a deep breath, relieved that the issue was taken care of.

  “Right, then…” I started to say, before looking up as movement caught my eye. It was Augustus and Hellenica, falling from a ship overhead and gliding toward us.

  My first instinct was to panic that two people were falling to their deaths… until I noticed how gently they fell, and that nobody else seemed concerned. Instead, I leaned against the railing and watched.

  It took little more than a minute for them to reach me; a few gentle course corrections, and then suddenly, they were there, Hellenica landing as gracefully and gently as a leaf, and Augustus stumbling and staggering to a halt, panting, his cheeks flushed and a huge grin on his face.

  “Jax!” he said, stepping forward and reaching out to grab my shoulder. “You have to try that!” He beamed with excitement. “Honestly, it’s not as bad as it looks. It’s just…wow.”

  “Okay, mate!” I laughed, shaking my head at him in amusement as he dropped his hand and I turned to Hellenica. “Clan Mother, it’s good to see you again,” I said simply, and she smiled amiably at me.

  “And you, my Lord Jax. It is refreshing to see you upright and unbloodied….” she said, breaking off and looking over my ragged, filthy clothes. “Well, somewhat unbloodied…” she amended awkwardly, and I shrugged.

  “I know; don’t worry, a bath or something is very high on my list of jobs today,” I promised her, and she smiled more deeply, evidently relieved that she didn’t have to be the one to broach that subject with me.

  “So, is there anything you need from me?” she asked graciously, and I returned her smile, shaking my head.

  “No. I simply wanted to thank you for your help at the Skyking’s tower and afterwards, and especially for the healing…”

  “You and your people saved me from a fate I’d rather not remember. It is I who should be thanking you,” she insisted, but I waved her off.

  “Well, as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. Is there anything I can do, or that you need from me?” I asked, and she paused, tapping a finger against the bottom of her lip before straightening and answering.

  “There is a boon I’d ask, if it’s permitted?” she said slowly and I nodded. “Then I ask that you consider releasing Augustus to leave the Legion, and instead join…”

  “WHAT?!” Augustus interrupted, stepping forward and lifting his hand to forestall her. “I’m not leaving the Legion! Lord Jax, please understand, I’m certainly not looking to leave. My term still has another eight years to go, and then I fully intend to accept a second term!” Hellenica glared at him, then me, before speaking up.

  “A clan needs a father, as much as a mother! You say that you aren’t interested, Jax, and your wisp made it clear again yesterday when I came to check on you that I was not to offer myself to you, but if I cannot choose a mate, then my clan will weaken! For years, we have been enslaved, and now you would force us to…”

  “I told you that…” Augustus started to interject, clearly fuming, before I cut them both off.

  “Enough!” I snapped, clapping my hands together sharply. “Hellenica, I don’t care if you want to mate with Augustus.” I noted the way his cheeks were reddening, filing the information away for shit-talking at a later date. “Provided, of course, he wants to mate with you,” I clarified hastily. “But he’s my right hand in the Legion. I’m not releasing him from his Oath, especially not with everything that’s coming!”

  “And I don’t want to be released from it, Jax!” Augustus insisted, his words laced with mild panic.

  “But I want to mate with him!” Hellenica snapped at me, grabbing the big Legionnaire by his right arm, and tugging him closer to her.

  “Then go have fun!” I snapped back, then paused, realizing we were virtually shouting at each other about Augustus getting some loving.

  “What?” she asked, freezing.

  “I said: go have fun!” I repeated. “Try not to leave him too worn out to do his job, but yeah, go for it. As long as you both want to, feel free to try to break his back. I don’t care; as long as he’s happy and able to do his job, that’s all that matters.”

  “But… I would have more children…” Hellenica said slowly, as though testing me for a response.

  “Right?” I said slowly. “That’s kinda a risk you take when boinking… as long as that’s understood, go for it.”

  “You would permit me to breed? I must be absolutely clear on this, Jax. You would permit me to take Augustus as Clan Father, mate with him, and bear his children? They would be permitted to live?” she asked carefully, searching my face.

  “What? I’m not
a monster, Hellenica. Why would I kill your kids?” I asked, shocked.

  “Because they would be loyal first to me, and then second to him. They would be beholden to you, as part of my Clan, but…”

  “Seriously, they’d be your kids. That’s kinda normal. Family first, and all that,” I said, frowning at Augustus. “Look, mate, I’m not seeing the issue here. Am I missing something obvious?”

  “Djinn are born magic users, Jax,” he said slowly. “And they tend to be… problematic… as newborns. Their natural affinity for magic outstrips their ability to control it. When the Djinn first started turning up in the city, they were maybe four or five in age, and it was chaos for a while. Many were killed outright, some as a consequence for their pranks, while others were hunted to make… alchemical concoctions.” He grimaced, gently taking Hellenica’s hand in his. “More and more turned up, and eventually, they simply became part of life in the city. The youngest ones were hunted down, though, so I’d guess there have been many hundreds born?”

  “There were,” Hellenica said softly, looking away. “They were taken from me and raised by the Prometheans as slaves. Few survived that upbringing to reach the streets, and far fewer lived to reach teenage years.”

  “Fuckers,” I growled, suddenly glad we’d killed every last one of them. “Look, I don’t know much about Djinn life cycles. How often do you have kids, how many at a time, and how long to gestate?” I asked indelicately.

  “I can birth up to a hundred at a time, and gestation is four months. I can have another litter in just under a year.” Hellenica said bravely, straightening up and knowing that we were all working out how many children she had lost.

  “That’s insane,” I said, shaking my head. “With their immediate talent as magic users, how aren’t Djinn everywhere? You’re powerful; are they the same when they’re fully grown?”

  “Not as strong as me, but on par with a weak human mage, on average,” Hellenica admitted slowly.

  “Seriously, you should be ruling an empire…” I started to say, then stopped as a memory came to me, a stray one from Amon.