Lun stood within the ranks of his century, and the world around him was exploding with blasts of elemental power he could never hope to confront and survive, at least while he was alone. "Shields and psy!" The centurion shouted and mentally commanded within his union, following the mental order to join the Legion Casting.

  In alternating ranks, his legionaries lifted their square shields over their heads and passed an orb of psy to him. Gathering the psy, he mixed it into the energy he already controlled, then he wove the mass into the simplest of all castings taught in the legion, that of a shield. The casting taught to legionaries for weeks to reinforce the backs of their physical shields.

  The only difference was that it was about a hundred times the size. A formidable casting, no two ways about it, but such an isolated casting would not reach the lofty level of a Legion Casting. To achieve that standard, the centuries to the sides of Lun's own needed to form their own shield, which interlocked and connected with his, making something of a quilt.

  The rain of fire bloomed as they struck the shields, obscuring Lun's vision of the night sky. A moment later, the swirling smoke and dying flames were riddled with holes as wind blades plummeted through the smoke and into the shield.

  At every impact, Lun felt a slight twinge as part of the casting's psy was ripped away, though honestly, it wasn't all that bad. It was like having a bunch of wasps swarming around you. Knowing that one is going to bite you eventually is almost worse than the actual event.

  While there were hundreds, if not thousands, of wind blades and fireballs falling on the legion, most of the attacks were so spread out that no one century was really pressed. Gritting his teeth at the irritants, Lun suffered through the onslaught, just like all the other holders of identical castings.

  "Tilt your shield!" Roared Dagloth Tererak, tribune of the fourth cohort.

  Lun flexed his willpower, imagining the inner side of the shield tilting up, only to find dozens of spells impacting its surface, stopping it cold. "Sons of bitches!" the centurion screamed, focusing his willpower and forcing the shield's edge up despite the deluge of power. His voice cracking from his yell, the man broke his century's formation by lifting his arms above his head, shifting the shield the last couple of feet into position.

  As he saw the fragments of stone burst through the swirling smoke, a victorious smile appeared on his face. In a rush lasting seconds, thousands of rocks, ranging from pebbles to hundreds of pounds in all shapes and sizes, crashed into the psy shield and continued on their way. Holding the casting for a few more moments, Lun released it when he felt the all clear.

  Taking a chunk of his psy, the centurion passed it up the union, where it was immediately shifted to the fourth and sixth centuries of the cohort to throw the material hovering feet above them off the cliff's side. "March on the double, boys!" Shouted Tribune Tererak into Lun's and everyone else in his cohort's mind. "The legatus is expecting the legion to travel three steps this rotation, and I am not going to report that we are the ones who caused the holdup!"

  Turning, Lun shouted amongst the clattering of stone from further blow, "Third Century, right face! Double time, march!" With small, quick steps, Lun's century followed the century below them and was followed in turn by the one above. A pattern that repeated by two cohorts above them and all the way down the switchbacks.

  Well, maybe not all the way, but at least until the legion ended. Given how torturously long this never-ending ramp is, there was a genuine possibility that even with the legion stringed out one century at a time, five ranks wide, they were not reaching the bottom. Lun didn't know, and to be honest, he didn't want to know, even if his tribune was inclined to tell him if he asked.

  That kind of knowledge could make him, and others, despair if it went the wrong way. It was better to just focus on what was right before you, take one step at a time, and endure. Overthinking can only make things worse.

  But what else was there to do as you marched? Taking steps and not falling over can only take up so much of your attention. As for the fear and anxiety of the battle… well, after the fourth time of rocks and spells falling on your head and them being blocked, it kind of becomes more of an annoyance than anything else.

  As Lun effectively jogged in place as his century marched around the latest bend in the switchbacks, he glanced up at the sky. While his night vision hadn't returned, he didn't need it to spot the Kin. All across the heavens, birdkins were gathered in clumps, balls of fire forming in their middle.

  Other Kin could also be seen gathering together, though there was no fire, and they had to be the sources of the wind blades, which had proven to be far more deadly. Fire was dangerous; no one could refute that. Trapped inside a burning building or in the forest, there was a decent chance you would pass out from the heat and be charred to cinders. When used in battle, there was always the chance that, as people threw it around, it could end up leaping to something and setting it alight.

  With nothing to burn and the fire always announcing itself long before it arrives, it wasn't much of a threat so long as there was psy available. Letting it explode above the legionaries' heads was a drain of resources, but it was he most efficient choice.

  On the other hand, wind blades did not announce their presence and could come at any time. After the first surprise attack, the order was sent out to maintain a constant low-level shield above the legionaries' heads.

  The legions had long learned that efficiency, no matter how small it might seem, was the key to winning battles. This was the reason why Lun and the other centurions had to lift the shields into place to deflect the stones, rather than forming the shields at an angle. The closer to the bodies of the legionaries the shield was, the easier it was to control, preserving more psy and letting it last longer. Simple, but that didn't mean it was easy.

  Relaxing his hold on the psy so that it became more of a loose mass rather than a hard steel plate, Lun's mind wandered as he kept the casting in place above his men, ready to harden it in a moment. It was the difference between someone constantly standing tense at attention and those standing loose.

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  Though even if he was constantly maintaining the casting, it wouldn't be nearly as draining as those acting as the rearguard. Those poor bastards had been in a constant fight since night had fallen, and the legion began its retreat down the switchbacks. Any hope that they could slip away in the night was immediately dashed by the Kin, along with any hope that the legionaries had for getting some sleep tonight.

  While the Kin could only be content with ranged attacks, that didn't mean they couldn't be a damn nuisance. And the farther the legion marched down, the more creative the assholes became. It began with beams of golden fire that the high nobles felt compelled to confront. Soon enough, fireballs were raining down like droplets of rain.

  And then came the wind blades that injured and killed nearly a whole century in total before the legion started adapting to the new threat. More accurately, the high nobles adapted, as they were the ones who extended their spheres of perception and detected the attacks before they had a chance to land. But if their warning was going to make any difference, it required the legionaries to maintain constant shields themselves.

  Though with the collective will of thousands, that wasn't a problem, and no one seemed to care about the psy either. So Lun and the other legionaries slowly worked their way down the mountainside. And they slowly approached the mass of storm clouds obscuring the land below. A cloud bank that had only grown throughout the night.

  "Stop and brace for barrage!" Thundered the voice of Lun's tribune, for who knew the number of times. Without thinking, Lun stopped, and all of his legionaries did the same.

  "Shields up!" Shouted the centurion again, his men following the order, except this time they didn't offer up their psy. It wasn't needed, as their intent was enough.

  If you thought about it, why would the legionaries need to raise their shields if the designated casters were going to project the psy past their shields anyway? It wasn't about the physical action, but what the action represented.

  They were behind shields that had saved their lives countless times, and they were putting the items between the attack and themselves. The action, both subconsciously and consciously, reinforced their belief in defense, and that bled over into the union and the casting that Lun was manipulating, making it stronger.

  Again, fire, followed by wind blades and stones, rained down upon them, except this time they weren't targeted, and again, they did nothing. "Double time it, boys! This is no time to be standing around with your thumb up your ass!"

  With the sweet melody of his tribune ringing between his ear, Lun turned and marched into the cloud bank with his legionaries. The instant dark mist touched his body, he was… pleasantly surprised. The substance was closer to steam than icy fog, though as he continued to move and collect the minuscule droplets, the small rivulets running down his armor were annoying. Before long, even the lights overhead vanished as it became impossible to see his hand stretched out in front of his face.

  The only thing that kept him moving was that he and his men didn't have to worry about falling off the side of the cliff or where to step. All they had to do was follow the minds before them and step into the same place as they did. Basically, the same as any other march.

  Sure, the ground was slightly slick with the moisture, but there were always three hands ready to snap out and grab their brothers if they started to fall. If that wasn't enough, the use of psy to hold yourself up was acceptable in this situation — though you would get your ass torn a new one — as a single person stumbling could easily start a cascade, as one man knocked over another.

  On the bright side, all they had to worry about now was knocking away the occasional rockslide. While the clouds were a pain in the ass, water was a good counter against fire, and the birds couldn't see him any more than Lun could see them.

  While a fight still raged at the rear, centurion Lun and the rest of his century joined in with the rest of their legion, performing the legion's age-old tradition. Standing around until someone higher up remembered they existed and yelled at them to get moving.

  As the routine repeated over and over, Lun and his men finally made it past the rain clouds. It was a relief, in a way, as they could breathe normally again, instead of having the musky scent of stagnant moisture in their nose, but they entered a drizzle, which was decidedly colder than the mist, continuing their discomfort. At some point, Lun found himself blinking as he marched down several switchbacks without stopping, and was amazed as he found himself stepping out onto the second plateau of the Steps.

  Quickly moving onto the road, the 3rd century joined the rest of the legion marching to the brightly lit and warm-looking camp off in the distance. And then Leeroy muttered in confusion, "What's that?" sending a chill down Lun's spine.

  Not hesitating, Lun sent to his tribune, "Domine, the Kin are doing something!" Frantically looking back over his shoulder, Lun froze as he processed what he saw.

  The clouds were splitting apart. For a moment, no one said anything, but as Lun's warning spread, people began looking around. First one, then a dozen shouts of alarm filled the air as everyone turned back to the cliff face.

  It wasn't so much like massive hands came down to rip the clouds apart like a vale, but more so like a strong gust of wind. A gigantic gust of wind that kept on blowing, pushing the clouds down and to the sides in bulges that looked able to smash the earth beneath them.

  Slowly but steadily, the cover the Lun and the legion had been hiding under was peeled away, revealing the top of the escarpment, except this time it was illuminated by ten thousand fires. Countless Kin were standing at its edge, and when they saw the 14th Legion, they released a collective howl that Lun could clearly hear from where he stood thousands of feet below.

  Then a voice rolled over the plateau, mocking and domineering as it declared, "Look at you run! From the moment I entered your lands, this is all I have seen. Where are the mighty warriors you people pride yourselves on? Where are your unbreakable legions? Pathetic creatures who will soon feel the claws of my warriors at your throats!" At the pronouncement, another howl filled the air, except this one gave Lun the distinct feeling they were mocking him.

  Streaking into the air, a figure clad in glacial blue armor stopped in the middle of the parting clouds. A voice that was like the breaking of the earth and caused Lun to flinch and cover his ears in pain as it thrummed in his chest originated from Lord Fridgia as he responded, his voice dripping with wrath, "Such strong words for a beast who has yet to directly face a legion in battle. But we will get to that soon enough. For now, let me return the demonstration of power."

  Dozens, then hundreds of ice shards shot from the sheets of mist streaming toward the earth to gather around the steel-clad figure, until they were nearly as thick and wide as the hole in the storm. Then, all at once, the projectiles vanished. Puffs of ice and dirt could be seen all along the ledge, obscuring some portions of beastkins while others were unlucky to stand on sections of stone that broke off, carrying those on them into a thousand-foot drop.

  The loudest, most dismissive snort that Lun ever expected to hear filled the moment following the high lord's display, and a second after the wind stopped. As quickly as they parted, the clouds reclaimed the void, and a cheer rose from the legionaries, seeing the interaction as a victory.

  "Think they're going to come down the slope?" Jankens asked, concern filling his voice as he stepped up next to Lun, still looking up toward the clouds.

  "Doubt it, at least not until morning and the storm lifts," Lun responded, hope more than confidence filling his voice. Then the uncertainty was wiped away as he sighed, "But that isn't our concern. It's been a long night, let's go find our tents and get some sleep while we can."

  Before Jankens could respond, a man cleared his throat and asked, "Lun, how did you know what was happening before everyone else?" Back stiffening as he broke out into a cold sweat, Lun slowly turned to face his tribune.

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