This Fire Burns - Chapter 21

Standing at a decent distance away, I gave the four Centurions space as they hashed out the final details of our attack plan.

From the looks of it, they were taking this far more seriously than any of the previous war games. Or maybe that was just how the First Cohort did things? I couldn’t recall any times when my cohort was teamed up with them by virtue of us being the two best… though we were far stronger than them.

The Praetors had initially put the First and Fifth together on the defending side. That would’ve been fun, me and Jason going ham on the final practice and destroying the opposition. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t compatible with the plan we’d cooked up for Gwen. So, the two of us had to resort to a little bit of lobbying. I provided the logic, and Jason translated it to something more formal when he requested the change.

“On the real mission, Serif won’t be with us,” he’d told them with a perfectly straight face, hinting at nothing of our discussion from a week ago. “If he’s on our team today, the Fifth Cohort will get the worst possible practice before we leave. This is a chance for us to test ourselves against our toughest challenge.”

They couldn’t argue with that, even revealing that they arranged teams as a favor to me, allowing me to be on the same side as my real Cohort before I had to leave with the First. They even had a noble-sounding reason prepared for the others: The two cohorts who’d be leaving to heroically vanquish the monsters would be united in a final training exercise. I appreciated the gesture, truly. Sometimes I got bored or moody, but things like that reminded me of just how accommodating the legion was.

Anyway, the teams were changed. The First and Fourth versus the Second, Third, and Fifth. 

It was kind of balanced. The First was the strongest cohort now that they had me on loan. The Fourth was the new weakest link, a position they’d inherited after the Fifth’s glow-up, though nobody really gave them shit for it. They were just average.

“Serif!”

Looking up, I saw Titus waving me over. I jogged over to the command huddle.

“Yo wassup, you guys done with making the plan?”

“Yes, it’s quite simple,” he replied. “Both cohorts will unite and we will advance in a standard manipular formation. You will be the only member of the third line. Their primary threat is Centurion Grace. Your role is to remain mobile and intercept him the moment he commits to an attack.”

The manipular formation was one of the most flexible formations the legion used, replacing the rigid phalanx during the Samnite Wars. It divided the legion into smaller, independent units called maniples. Though those would have at least a hundred legionnaires each in the Roman Empire, and for obvious reasons we couldn’t do that here.

“How exactly does this work?” I asked.

“Unbelievable,” Hank sneered. “It’s one of the standard formations every legionnaire should know.”

I was tempted to knock his teeth out. Gwen had complained about him before, saying he was likely one of the Centurions in Octavian’s pocket based on his actions in the last Senate meeting.

Before I could respond, Maria stepped forward. “I believe Serif is asking how we are applying it to our current numbers, Hank, not for a lecture on the basics.” She turned to me. “Our maniples will consist of twenty legionnaires. Five will make up the front line, with a sixth held in reserve as the second. You’ll be the only one in the third line, acting as our mobile support.”

That didn’t sound so bad. The role they’d given me was even flattering in a way, made to fit my specific style of fighting. I almost felt a twinge of regret knowing I was about to toss the whole elegant scheme into the trash.

I watched as the Centurions relayed the plan to the rest of the legionnaires, waiting for them to finish outlining the retreat signals, fallback positions, contingencies depending on the defending team’s response, and all that other good stuff.

“Yo, now that I think about it, the plan’s a little complicated,” I said to Hank, deciding he should be the one graced to hear the bad news. “How about I just take Jason out of the equation from the very beginning?”

“Unacceptable,” a reedy voice piped up. “How disgraceful to have such a reckless individual on our team. Can you even call him a Roman?”

A couple of the other legionnaires snickered, though no one else made any comments.

Titus frowned. “While we want you to deal with Jason, we still need you to support the rest of the formation.”

Ugh, it’s so cringe that I’m doing this when they haven’t really done anything wrong. But it’s for the greater good, yup yes.

I even waited until the last possible moment to bring it up. If I’d told them even twenty minutes ago, they’d have enough time to make a proper strategy around it. Maybe a strike team ready to blitz the defenders in that brief moment of distraction. That would be a slaughter, and it would crush Gwen’s confidence right before the big day. But by springing it on them now, minutes before the horn, I wasn’t completely screwing them over while I still got the environment I needed.

“You can think of it as me taking the initiative,” I countered. “I’m aiming for the biggest threat. Let’s be real, this fight was going to happen no matter what. Just imagine how bad it could’ve been if it happened above the main formation. Do you really want lightning and fire raining down while you’re trying to advance?”

Titus let out a long sigh. “Fine. Neutralizing their commander is your new objective. But do not expect us to save you if you’re losing to him.”

“Save me? Didn’t know you were a comedian. But, thanks. I knew you’d see it my way.”

I turned and walked toward the edge of the field, about to do some light stretches to prepare for the fight. Behind me, I caught snippets of conversation as I left.

“How does the Fifth even deal with this guy?”

“At least it kind of aligns with our original plan? In a really basic way?”

“He should’ve bitch slapped the squeaker who made that comment earlier!”

“Why are you like this?”

A few minutes later, while I was doing the Goku stretch, a figure from the Fourth wandered over. It was Kayla, the girl I’d beaten on my first day at camp.

“Gods, that was some high-quality chaos back there,” she said, an amused smirk on her face. “Telling the First Cohort’s Centurion his plan ain’t all that? I bet you’d do whatever the hell you want even if he said no.”

“You seem to know a lot about me,” I shot back. “Aren’t you that girl who’s always spying on me? You little voyeur!”

Her smirk widened. “You’re the most interesting thing to happen to this legion. Why wouldn’t I watch the chaos you’re causing? In fact, I’m planning on watching the main event up close. Problematic Pyromaniac versus Jupiter Junior.”

I stood up, shaking out my legs. “Who am I to deny my adoring fans a good show? Though, I don’t think your cohort’s centurion is happy about you talking to me.”

“Shit, Hank’s got a stick up his ass about ‘fraternizing with the enemy.’” Kayla clicked her tongue. “Just make it count, yeah? I’d hate to see Chaos losing to Order.”

I almost gagged. I got what she was trying to say, but those names did not bring good memories.

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[Gwen]

Gwen stood before the assembled Fifth Cohort in the courtyard. Dakota was, for once, standing perfectly straight without the usual pouch of Kool-Aid in hand. She saw the identical smirks on the faces of Felix and Haley as they spoke to each other. The rest of the cohort, from the veteran legionnaires to the newest probatio, they all wore the same look of determination. 

“He’ll be all ours, Gwen,” Clementine said from the front rank.

Gwen nodded. They would be facing their toughest challenge today, but they were ready. It was a good feeling, one that drowned out the nagging voice of doubt that usually lived in the back of her mind.

“Let’s show him how strong we really are!” Felix declared to his sister.

“You bet!” Haley shot back. “He better not take it easy on us just because he’s worried!”

Worried… That was exactly the right word to describe it. For the past two weeks, Serif had been complaining nonstop about having to be separated from them. At first, it was the usual grumbling about not wanting to train with the “cringy larpers” of the First. But as the mission’s start date loomed, his rants had shifted. He’d gone on about how dangerous it was, how splitting up was stupid, how they should have kept both cohorts together and cleared the cities one by one. It felt less like whining and more like the blunt concern of an anxious older brother, ironic considering he was younger than half the cohort. He cared. He just expressed it in his own way.

Even that morning, he’d gone on for nearly an hour straight about how he was going to personally test them today.

So, they had built their entire strategy around his concern. The Fifth Cohort would serve as the decoy, designed to draw Serif’s undivided attention and hold the line. Perhaps a little mean to take advantage of that, but they’d both get what they want. Serif would get to “test” them, and they’d prove they didn’t need to be babied. Though getting battered by their strongest member was far from being a glorious job. 

Gwen glanced at Jason, finding him standing with the much smaller, elite group of legionnaires from all three allied cohorts. He noticed her gaze and gave her a firm nod.

He wouldn’t be with them because Serif had no reason to test him. While Serif was busy trying to mother-hen the Fifth into submission, Jason and his hand-picked strike team would be free to act as their team’s scalpel, slicing through whatever plan the First and Fourth concocted. He was more than experienced enough to adapt to anything they could throw at him.

Meanwhile, the bulk of the Second and Third would handle the main defense. The numbers were even, their most powerful opponent was accounted for, and their best fighter was perfectly positioned to win the day.

The plan was perfect. All Gwen had to do was handle her part.

BRAAAAAM!

The Fifth Cohort snapped to attention at the sound of the horn.

Before the echo fully faded, a trail of fire arced through the air, soaring high over the walls. None of the defenders even tried to stop it with arrows or water cannons, Serif was simply flying far too high to intercept.

“Bruh,” Lee muttered, shield held high. “He’s not wasting a single second, is he?”

“What else were you expecting from him?” Harris replied.

“Fair enough.”

The fiery comet descended, Serif’s form becoming clear as he scanned the field. Then he spotted them and drifted down until he hovered just ahead of the Fifth.

“Yo,” he called out, “why’s Jason not with you?”

“We don’t need him. We’re more than enough to take you down!” She held her ground, making no move to attack. Stalling for a few extra seconds by talking was a better strategy than charging blindly.

A wide grin spread across Serif’s face. “Oh? You’re approaching me?” He floated a few inches lower, his arms bowed out from his sides as he opened his stance, practically daring them to attack. “Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? Even though you know how futile it is to try and stop me, like a lone legionnaire trying to stop a charging war elephant?”

Gwen felt the cohort tense behind her, their collective breath held. He was just trying to psyche them out right now, she had to make sure they didn’t lose their nerve.

“Do you really think we’d just sit back and watch you pick us apart from a distance?” she shot back. “That’s not the way the Fifth Cohort works. After everything you’ve done, you should know that better than anyone. We meet our challenges head-on!”

A roar of agreement erupted from the sixty legionnaires behind her. Shields clattered, pila were leveled. They were fired up, ready to fight against the strongest member of the legion.

Serif paused, his amused smirk becoming neutral. 

“…Damn. I actually want to see it firsthand now,” he said quietly. “Too bad I’ve got a different plan. Good luck with the rest of the games, though!”

Before anyone could process the words, he gave them a casual salute and shot skyward in a burst of flame, straight toward Jason.

What just happened?

All the fire the Fifth had built in the last thirty seconds died instantly, replaced by murmurs of confusion.

He’s supposed to be fighting us. He said he was going to test us. He spent all morning talking about it. Was that all a lie? No, he couldn’t have faked his concern. So why is he going after Jason now? Jason’s the key to the whole strategy, and Serif’s going right for him.

What’s the plan now? What do I do?

Gwen felt the weight of every gaze. The doubt she’d been ignoring clawed its way right back up.

They’re all waiting for you to do something. To say something. You’re the Centurion. You’re supposed to lead. But you can’t. Because you don’t know how.

The paralysis nearly froze her, but she forced herself to do something. If Serif was going after Jason, they had to help him. It was an obvious move. Something even a child could come up with. But right now, she couldn’t let the doubts consume her.

“Fifth Cohort!” Gwen screamed, her voice cracking slightly. “With me! We have to support Jason! Move!”

She ran, leading the charge in the direction Serif had flown. Behind her, the cohort followed without hesitation. The other defenders on the walls glanced at them, probably wondering how they’d managed to screw up their one job.

They arrived to find the members of Jason’s strike team already out of the fight. They didn’t look injured, but their weapons and shields were literally cut in half. All they could do was sit on the ground and watch the sky with looks of awe.

Gwen followed their gaze upward, her face immediately mirroring theirs.

High above the battlefield, Jason and Serif were locked in a duel. Golden blade met white blade with explosive force. They broke apart only to charge at each other again, their movements too fast to fully track. Lightning crackled around Jason while flames wreathed Serif’s form.

When did Serif even get a sword? As far as she knew, he fought with his fists and fire. Failing to keep track of such a major development in her own cohort… yet another area where she’d failed. And her “plan” to rush in and support Jason was just as useless as the original one had been.

What now? What am I supposed to do? Go up there and help? With what? How? We can’t fly. Charge the enemy? Which enemy? The First? The Fourth? Where even are they? Our job was to keep Serif distracted. And now he’s gone. And Jason’s gone too, busy cleaning up my mess!

Jason couldn’t give orders while fighting against Serif. That meant she had to give the orders.

But what are the orders?! I already failed. The plan failed in the first minute. I failed.

“Gwen?”

The calm, steady voice cut through the noise of her spiraling thoughts. She turned to see Clementine standing at her side. The daughter of Clementia looked expectant.

“What’s the call?”

The question, so simple and direct, was a lifeline, forcing her to stop the inward search for a perfect solution and start seeing the situation in front of her. When she looked past Clementine at the faces of her cohort, she didn’t see accusation. She saw the same accusation that was eating her alive, but beneath it was faith. They were looking at her. Even if she didn’t believe in herself right now, she couldn’t just stand here and let that faith rot. Not after everything they’d worked for to drag the Fifth out of the turn and turn themselves into something worth respecting. 

They had no direction. They were exposed in the open, a perfect target. They were vulnerable. And it was her job to protect them.

She took a deep breath and considered the situation.

Jason is fighting Serif. Keeping Serif occupied was supposed to be our job. So, if Jason’s doing that, then we have to do his.

Can you really?

Jason was entrusted with leadership over the strike team because he had the skill and experience to coordinate such an important operation. Gwen wasn’t Jason.

Gwen shook off the doubt. There was no time for that. She just had to try and hope for the best. Besides, not all was lost. They now had an entire cohort free to support wherever necessary.

“Get back on your feet!” Gwen barked at the dejected members of the strike team. They jumped, startled by the command. “We’ll share our spare weapons with you. Your fight isn’t over! Two of you, get to the other cohorts’ lines and inform them of the situation. The rest of you are with us. We’re taking over your job.”

As the two runners sped off, she turned to her own legionnaires. “Fifth! To the walls!”

They rushed up the ramparts. It had felt like the chaos consumed the world, but when Gwen was up here, she realized only a few minutes had passed. The First and Fourth were advancing in their modified manipular formation, still outside the fort.

“Here’s the new plan,” Gwen announced, her eyes fixed on the enemy. “We’ll let their main forces engage the Second and Third as per the original plan.” She pointed a finger at the enemy’s rear line. “Meanwhile, we’ll hit their reserve maniple. We’ll have them outnumbered, at least three for every one legionnaire they have. Once we beat them, we’ll support the other cohorts from behind the enemy line.”

She raised her weapon high. “We were originally the distraction, but now we’ll be the aces who win this for our team!”

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“Are you really okay with throwing the war games like this?” Jason asked through gritted teeth.

Our blades were locked tight, the sun on my sword’s crossguard inches from the imperial eagle on his as we hovered a hundred feet in the air.

“If anything, it’s the Fourth that’s throwing,” I grunted, pushing him back with my strength. “You saw how quickly they bent over when the Fifth was about to come in them from behind!”

“…You phrased it that on purpose.”

“Who, me? Nooo, I’d never do such a thing.” I smirked. “But seriously, the match would’ve been better if the Second or Third was with the First instead. Or put them on defense. The numbers game basically fucked us over.”

“Still, this is the closest to a natural fight we’ll get,” Jason said. “The two of us are completely isolated up here. It means we have little to no influence on the results down there.”

With a sudden twist of his wrist, Jason caught the flat of my blade with his crossguard. He wrenched Ivlivs sideways, using torque rather than brute strength. The leverage forced Sol Aeternus out of my grip, and we watched it plummet toward the ground.

I’m definitely asking for an auto-return feature if a goddess offers to enchant my weapon again. The kind that’ll make it snap back onto my neck as a necklace instead of taking a nosedive to the ground.

He stared at me. “Two times now. I’d say that settles the question of which of our blades is better.”

“You may have disarmed me, but you shouldn’t lie to yourself like that. Ivlivs can’t do all the cool shit Sol Aeternus can! Letting loose beams of fire is far better than changing forms… Which my sword can also do! Besides, this was a case of the wielders making the difference.”

“Glad you noticed. You really need to work on your swordsmanship.”

“I know,” I admitted. “Guess this is what I get for never participating in those lessons.”

For two years, I’d viewed the legion’s sword drills as pointless ritual. Why bother learning all the ways to parry when it would never be relevant to me? My fighting style was my own, a mess of pure strength and overwhelming fire that no legionnaire could handle. Then I got Sol Aeternus from Blackbeard, got cocky because it sliced through monsters like butter, and assumed I was hot shit.

The basics were enough for me to beat ninety-nine percent of the camp. Jason was in the one percent. I could slash or stab at him, use the sword’s magical properties and my natural strength, but he was able to match me. Against someone who could last more than a minute, my weaknesses were laid bare for him to see.

“I can help you train tomorrow,” he offered. “We’ll have the whole day off.”

I shook my head. “That’s not enough time to really learn anything. Better not to cram. We can work on it after we get back from the mission.”

“Sounds good. You can go down and pick up your sword again. The practice right now should still be helpful.”

“Nah.” I cracked my knuckles. “Let’s fight more seriously. We’ve only got a few minutes left before the game’s decided.”

For the past twenty minutes, we’d basically been sparring at a slightly elevated intensity so that everyone down below would believe we were having the fight of our lives. Our shared goal had resulted in us spending more time commenting on Gwen’s trial by fire rather than trying to defeat each other.

After giving him a few seconds to process that, I unleashed a volley of fireballs. He dodged quite easily, gliding through the air. It wasn’t exactly a surprise, since this was just a little opener to signal the start rather than to actually do any damage. Though, the speed he showed just now was far greater than anything he’d ever shown on the ground.

So that’s how he’s playing it. Up here in his element, he’s got the home-field advantage.

“You know, this next one is on you,” Jason called out. “Your habit of projecting your element through your sword inspired me to work on something of my own!” He slashed Ivlivs in a horizontal arc. A shimmering white crescent burst out of the blade, visible only because of how much air was compressed, shooting toward me.

I dodged it, grinning. “Holy shit, dude, that attack’s awesome! If you used that in close range, it’d be impossible to dodge!”

“Thanks!” he yelled back, looking equally excited. “Though this is my first time using it in combat. I’m still figuring out the best applications.”

Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t about to let him figure it out today. As long as he had that golden toothpick extending his reach and shooting air blades, he had the tactical edge over me. So I’d have to get rid of it. If neither of us had a weapon, this fight would come down to our powers. And I knew I was better in that field.

I created a blade of fire in my right hand, pouring enough power into it so that it distorted the air, acting as a cover for my real move. With my left, I created a chain of fire, wrapping it up my arm where it wouldn’t be easily seen.

Closing the distance, I held my fire-blade high as if I was going for another sword lock. Jason met the charge, his golden blade raised to accept the challenge.

Just as our weapons were about to clash, I snapped my left arm forward. The fire-chain shot out like a whip, coiling around the hilt of his sword. With a sharp tug, I snatched Ivlivs from him and let it fall. He tried to use an air wall to bring it back up, but I followed up with a right hook to his jaw.

Still, his reflexes were insane. Even as his head was snapped back, he managed to slap a palm into my chest. A jolt of electricity surged through my body, making me move back.

Jason tried to create distance between use while I was paralyzed. 

I wasn’t about to let him reset the fight on his terms. Ignoring the numbness, I threw out my arms, releasing dozens of small fire orbs, spreading them out and shaping their movements so they formed a floating minefield designed to keep him in.

As I was closing in again, Jason raised his hand. There was a deep whoosh of shifting air, and the orbs distorted, stretching thin as they were funneled inward toward a single point.

A vacuum… He literally created a vacuum in the air.

Amazing. I really did forget sometimes. Jason played support and let me take the lead so often that it was easy to overlook just how broken he actually was. The fucking Son of Jupiter. Training since he was three. And he only got better once he’d started freely using his powers. Lightning that could fry a monster in a second, wind versatile enough to shape the battlefield around him…

He’s got it all!

But I wasn’t giving up. Normal fire couldn’t exist in a vacuum because it needed oxygen for combustion. Usually, I let my fire operate the same way so I wouldn’t use up too much energy. If Jason wanted to counter me with a vacuum, I’d just have to bypass it my way.

I began gathering fire into my palms, compressing it. Jason saw the bright red sphere between my hands and understood the threat. He thrust his hand out again, creating another vacuum to try and destabilize the attack before I could release it. I pushed up, pouring more and more into the sphere, fighting his negation with sheer willpower. 

Jason was too smart to wage a war of attrition against me and changed tactics. He drew his arm back and unleashed a rapid barrage of lightning bolts, forcing me to abandon the sphere and dodge. 

This ranged battle is getting us nowhere.

He was too fast and versatile at a distance, and I was too durable to be taken down by potshots. I needed to force this into close quarters. I had always been the physically strongest demigod in the camp. 

I bent my body into an angle for minimal air resistance, then blasted fire from my feet. The world blurred as I shot forward like a human rocket. The lightning bolts whizzed past in meaningless streaks. I crossed the gap in seconds, fist already cocked back with all my momentum behind it.

At the last possible moment, Jason’s entire body lit up with crackling lightning. A cloak of electricity wrapped around him like armor.

My fist connected. 

Agony. Pure, mind-wiping agony. Every nerve screamed as the volts tore through me. 

I roared, pushing past the pain. I forced my muscles to obey through the seizure, driving the punch home. My fist slammed into his side, breaking through the electric guard.

We both hovered midair, breathing heavily.

Jason wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned. “Good hit.”

“The next one’s gonna be even harder!” I promised, raising my fists again.

BWWWWOOOOOOOM!

Bruh. We should’ve started earlier.

I let my arms drop to my sides. “Guess we should head down then. Your team probably won since we haven’t hit the time limit yet, while none of the attackers really got close to the fortress.”

Jason nodded, and we descended together, touching down on the ground just outside the main wall. My assumption was immediately confirmed. Legionnaires from the Second, Third, and Fifth Cohorts were in the middle of their victory celebration. The attacking formation of the First and Fourth had been broken so thoroughly and early that the Praetors had seen no point in letting the clock run out. Unless I was willing to go all out and defeat three cohorts by myself, there was no point in continuing.

We walked over to the center, where the Fifth was gathered. On the way, several legionnaires congratulated him for keeping me at bay, saying that it must’ve been a crazy fight from the glimpses they caught. 

Jason stopped in front of Gwen. “Our original plan fell apart when we faced an unpredictable variable, but you were able to adapt to it. Well done, that’s what a real leader does.”

“Thanks, Jason. But you handled the tough job,” she replied, staying humble even when she had a wide smile on her face. “Keeping Serif busy is practically a task for an entire cohort.”

Meanwhile, a couple members of the cohort ran over to me, Haley leading the charge.

“Hey, Serif!” she called out, hands on her hips. “What was all that talk about ‘testing’ us this morning? You flew off before we even got to fight you!”

I put on my most serious face. “You’ve all worked hard to get stronger. Who am I to test you?” I lied smoothly, as if this entire thing wasn’t just an elaborate test for Gwen. Still, that didn’t take away from the main point. They earned their victory today. As long as they had each other, they could definitely handle themselves in the real world.

I smirked. “Besides, if I actually fought you guys, I’d win in a minute! Wouldn’t even be a test.”

“Big talk from the guy whose team just lost!” Lee shouted from the back, the cheering getting even louder.

I just laughed along with them.