Chrysalis

50 Years before Anthony is Reborn.

Legionaries were known to obsess over the condition of their Abyssal armour. Fussing over the plates, burnishing the living stone, polishing the enchanted metal. All of these were important, vital components that ensured the proper function of the suit, providing the all-important protection that allowed their soldiers to endure blows no other army could, and exert strength no sapient should possess.

Yet, in the eyes of Grand Marshal Cicera, they didn't pay enough attention to the most fundamental and key piece.

Her worn hands moved with practised ease as she felt along the inside of the armour. Even without looking, she could shift from strap to strap, her indelicate fingers sliding along each one with gentle grace as she checked for splitting and wear. Without the straps, the damn thing wouldn't hold together, would fall off in battle, plates sliding out of place in the thick of the fight. Not on her watch.

The flickering torchlight was all the Grand Marshal needed to complete her check before she began to strap the armour on. Forearm plates were meticulously positioned and tightened, followed by shins and boots. Once that was done, her aides stepped forward to assist, holding the heavier and more cumbersome sections in place as they were buckled down and then snapped into their interlocking folds.

The process was completed in silence, each aware of the import of doing every little task perfectly. Attention to detail, no mistakes, that was how Cicera ran her Legions. That was how the Legionem Abyssi won wars.

After the two attendants had completed their final check, running their eyes and hands over every plate with focused care, they nodded and stepped back. The Grand Marshal picked up her helmet and placed it over her head, the heavy Abyssal Iron sliding into place with an audible click as it joined with the shoulder guards.

There was a world of difference between a complete set of armour and one missing even the slightest section. With her helmet now in place, the full set of enchantments hummed to life, drawing deep on the mana that circulated through her body along with her blood. Every circuit vibrated with power, returning that strength back to her in turn.

Fully dressed, she acknowledged both her aides before she stepped out of her personal tent to greet those who awaited her there.

"Commanders," she said as she stepped over the threshold.

"Grand Marshal," they each saluted solemnly, fist to heart.

me," she directed before she strode off at pace, her junior officers falling into stride behind

the south west bank. Artillery has been established and

been properly inducted

"They have."

"Metorii."

the west bank as ordered, Grand Marshal. The mages have been condensing the earth mana

the

are alongside the twenty third. In position and

that eagerness has been tempered with caution

like a rebuke, but each of the

diligence," the commander hastened

Cicera nodded.

away from the challenge that awaits us, but victory comes

across the field and took in the

Ten full legions, deployed and ready to fight. In the distance, across the water,

cannot be allowed to survive. You know as well as I do the blood that soaks the trunk of that tree. Too many have been killed already,

"We will, Grand Marshall."

victory can be achieved without paying the price.

legions the previous night, speaking to each soldier in turn, shaking their hands and looking the people they would send