For the Glory of Rome: Chronicles of an Isekai'd Legion

Tiberius tensed as the old mage appeared next to him. The sheer speed of the man had to be the result of some sort of spell. At least, that's what he hoped. The alternative was that this mage's level was so high that he could almost instantly move through multiple ranks of Legionnaires without so much as breaking a sweat.

Neither option was a good one.

Before Tiberius even had time to draw breath, the mage had already launched into a battery of questions.

"You're the leader of these soldiers, yes? You must be. I see the nexus of power and how it weaves around you. Tell me, are your men really level four? If not, then I must know how they managed to confound both my [Mana Sense] and my apprentice's [Appraisal]. Perhaps you are a specialist with a full suite of high-level minion skills? Although… no, you can't be the same level as the others. Where does your men's seemingly limitless stamina come from then? Do the same effects apply to their mana use?"

The old man's hand darted forth with the speed of a striking viper and seized Tiberius's wrist, ensuring he couldn't escape the onslaught of questions. His expression was one of enthusiasm that bordered on mania. He didn't even seem to notice the dozen Legionnaire guards whose blades were now leveled directly at him.

Tiberius lifted his free hand, ordering them to stand down. If this man wanted him dead, there was nothing he could do about it. That much was abundantly clear.

Fortunately, despite how it looked, Tiberius didn't feel any malice from the man. Just unrestrained curiosity that bordered on mania. He reminded Tiberius of one of those madmen some called philosophers.

Tiberius cleared his throat to interrupt the mage's ramblings. He spoke in a calm, level tone that didn't betray how unsettled he felt. "In my culture, it is common courtesy to introduce oneself upon a first meeting. You speak to Emperor Tiberius Rufius Maro of Rome. By what name might I address you?"

The old man stopped his tirade mid-sentence and blinked. He straightened, releasing Tiberius's arm before taking a half step back. "Ah. It seems that I've forgotten my manners. You'll have to forgive me, I don't get out much anymore. I am Grand Mage Claude Arcturus. You can call me Claude. Now, about your level—"

Tiberius held up a hand before the eccentric mage got going again. "This is hardly the place to hold an extended conversation—and I suspect that your questions will require a discussion at length." He remarked dryly. "Come. Let us relocate to a more suitable location."

He noted that the man still hadn't so much as glanced at the ring of Legionnaires pointing swords in his direction. His apprentices didn't seem to pay them much mind either, as though the armed soldiers were hardly worth consideration.

"Ah, right you are!" Claude grinned. "Where do you want to talk?"

Tiberius gestured to the mansion in the distance."The former baron's estate should do nicely. If you'll follow me—"

"Bah, walking is too slow." The bedraggled mage waved him off. "Let me."

Before Tiberius could even object, the man had seized his wrist once again. From this distance it became clear that this mage wasn't simply old like his apprentices were. He was ancient. His wrinkles had wrinkles.

The world seemed to shift and suddenly Tiberius was standing in the baron's study. He stumbled slightly from the disorientation. The mage released him, crossing to one of the plush chairs and flopping into it like he owned the place.

"There we are!" Claude sighed contentedly. "See? Much faster."

Tiberius was forced to revise his assessment of the man. If his apprentices were walking calamities, then the master himself may as well have been the incarnation of a god descended to the earth.

He took a couple of deep, steadying breaths until the world stopped spinning. "A bit of warning would have been appreciated. Especially considering that my men may perceive that as an attack."

"Ah, you'll have to excuse my manners. I simply was too excited." Claude waved the rebuke off in a manner that suggested he wasn't even remotely apologetic.

Tiberius could only shake his head. He crossed the room and sank into the chair on his side of the table. His heart rate was only now decreasing back to normal levels. True to his word, Claude wasted no time in peppering him with questions before he'd even finished sitting.

"So! Your men. Where does their seemingly boundless stamina come from? Are they constructs, or flesh and blood humans as they appear? What skills do you have slotted to enable all of this?"

Tiberius raised his hand again to interrupt the man. "Grand Mage Claude—"

The mage snorted and waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, just call me Claude. I've never been one to insist on formality."

"...Very well. Claude." Tiberius corrected himself, though it still felt somehow wrong to refer to the man so casually. "The information you are requesting is not something to be shared lightly. I would classify these answers as closely-guarded secrets of Rome and its military. For that reason, I see no reason to give them away so readily. So tell me—why should I share this information with you."

Claude blinked. The question seemed to surprise him. He leaned back in his chair. "Well, because I'm interested in it, that's why."

Tiberius waited for him to elaborate, but Claude remained silent. The Legatus sighed internally. "And what reason do I have to indulge your interest?"

In all honesty, placing himself between the mage and something that he wanted didn't strike Tiberius as a good idea. But the man had yet to resort to aggression, which made him a little more comfortable with pushing the issue. Besides, he would not simply roll over and show his belly out of fear.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"Because things that I find interesting need to be researched, young man." Claude explained patiently as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "They represent holes in our understanding of the universe that need to be filled. Do you not feel the wonder at the sensation of mana flowing through your channels? Does it not make you want to uncover the deeper mechanisms of its workings, the secrets that underpin the very core of spellcraft?"

"I am not a mage." Tiberius said flatly. Being called a "young man" was a new one for him. And while some may have found it flattering considering the amount of gray in his hair, he certainly didn't feel that way. Not when the man before him was so clearly ancient.

"Ah! So you don't have a mage-type class!" Claude grinned. "Now I'm even more curious."

Tiberius's eyes narrowed. The man's eccentricity made it too easy to mistake him for a fool. He had to be more careful, lest he reveal even more information without intending to.

"Well, then perhaps I shouldn't expect you to understand the inexorable draw of this world's many mysteries." Claude continued. "Regardless. I'm certain that my findings would be of use to you. In a practical sense, not just in an academic one."

"You would share your findings, then?"

"Of course! It's only polite." Claude agreed easily.

Tiberius considered that, then shook his head. "You seem confident in yourself. But aside from your assurances, I have no guarantee that your findings really will be of use."

"I am confident. Haven't you heard of my works in the field of material enchantment?" At Tiberius's blank look, the man sighed. "Kids these days. They never remember to credit their elders…"

"Is this your specialty then?"

"Oh, no, I got bored with that centuries ago." Claude scoffed. "My latest area of research is in [Meteormancy]. Weather magic. Not the study of how to drop big rocks on your enemies like some younguns seem to believe… Although I will admit that I did dabble in such things during my younger years. Back in the day, I could summon a fireball big enough to level this city!"

The man sighed nostalgically. His words reminded Tiberius once again of a philosopher. Although the simple fact that this mage's research could generate spells capable of such destruction earned him quite a bit more respect.

Tiberius's brow furrowed. "My understanding is that it's exceedingly rare for a person to change specialties. Especially one of your abilities."

"Eh, that's only for people who aren't confident in their skills. Or rather, their ability to level skills from scratch. Honestly, I can't imagine limiting myself like that." The mage shook his head with an amused chuckle. "Granted, mages all have a few core skills that they need to take in order to even practice magic, but the others? I make sure to change them out every time I find sufficient reason to."

That bit of information got filed away for later. There had been a few Legionnaires that dabbled in skills that might as well have been magic. But evidently, actual mages were a different beast entirely. Perhaps this was why they hadn't yet managed to produce a mage like the one they'd fought a few weeks ago.

Claude continued. "Anyway. That's why I'm so confident. There's a reason they call me a Grand Mage, you know. Heck, they should call me a Grander Mage with how many fields I've revolutionized. I've only caught the barest glimpse of your men at work and I could already give you half a dozen ways to better use your seemingly inexhaustible supply of stamina—and that's without even knowing its source."

"And you're certain that our… abilities… will hold your interest for more than a fleeting moment?" Tiberius pressed.

"Well, that depends. I'm certainly interested at the moment, so that's promising. And if you and your people are related to the strange phenomenon we've been picking up in this area—"

"Phenomenon?" Tiberius interrupted.

Claude nodded. "Why, yes! A few months ago, we were testing the latest improvements to [Call Lightning]. Fascinating spell, by the way. Very flexible. There are so many ways to tweak it during casting. I've recently started experimenting with changing the radius via the specific application of external foci, and—"

Tiberius cleared his throat. Claude blinked, then rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Anyway… during our experiments we picked up an incredible surge of energy—more than once. On a scale that should be impossible to produce by any known entity on this planet. Any known by me, at least, and I know a lot."

The mage spread his hands wide. "That's why we're here. To find out what in the world could have caused it. And so far, you and your men are the best lead I've got."

Tiberius rested his chin atop his hands. From the looks of it, having this mage on their side could be an incredible boon. While they had made great progress on understanding this world and its System, magic was the one field that had proved most difficult for them to grasp. To have an expert like this teach them would surely be an incredible help. And if he were willing to do more…

"... Perhaps we can reach an arrangement." Tiberius said. "I have a few conditions."

"Fire away." Claude motioned for him to get on with it.

"First, you will share any and all findings with the Legion in a timely manner—and only the Legion." Tiberius emphasized. "I have no desire for our enemies to benefit from your research."

"Done. Next?"

"Second, you will instruct a subset of my men in the use of magic and its related skills."

"I'm far too busy." Claude tilted his head. "But I suppose my apprentices can do that. Next?"

"Finally…" Tiberius scrutinized the mage's expression. "You will agree to directly assist the Legion in matters of war."

Claude made a sour face. "Have to say no to that one. I don't like taking part in wars. I have better ways to spend my time. Besides, what group happens to lay claim to a piece of land for the given moment doesn't interest me."

Tiberius nodded. That last condition had been a longshot, but he'd decided it was worth trying anyway. "Very well. What about your apprentices?"

"They can help unless I need them for something. After all, they are my apprentices." Claude pointed out.

"Understood. And your… pet?"

The mage brightened. "Oh, Rufus? I wouldn't mind if you took him out for some exercise. Though he won't hurt people. I trained him well."

Tiberius bit back the urge to contradict the man, choosing instead to nod. "Then it seems we have a deal."

"Wonderful! Now, for my first question—"

"Fortunately for both of us," Tiberius interrupted for what felt like the dozenth time, "One of my subordinates has taken the liberty of documenting our class and its capabilities. Here."

It took a moment of rooting around for Tiberius to find what he was looking for—Gaius's reports. The second in command has continued taking charge of the efforts to research the System and compiled his findings into a single ever-expanding collection of papers. It was a useful reference for Tiberius, even if the boy's writing remained far more verbose than he would have preferred.

Tiberius slid the stack over toward Claude. "Take a look."

The old man reached forward eagerly and began to read. He flipped through the pages at speeds that made Tiberius wonder if he was even reading their contents. Yet as the seconds ticked by in silence, he saw the mage's bushy eyebrows begin to rise. Higher and higher they climbed, like caterpillars on a tree, until it seemed as though they'd leave his forehead entirely.

After what couldn't have been longer than a minute or two, the mage set the papers back down on the desk with a solid whumph.

"Well. I'm sold. How do I become a Legionnaire?"