I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 1351 The Fourth Legion
Chapter 1351 The Fourth Legion
A black-haired man with sharp eyes and crow’s feet etched deep into weathered skin walked at the head of a column of soldiers, all clad in black and red.
Above them hung a dome that hid them from everything. They had passed several monsters on the march, and none had caught so much as a whiff of their presence.
The dome did not merely render them invisible. It made them non-existent. Originally a simple artifact belonging to the Seventh Legion’s commander, his subordinate’s talent had amplified its properties beyond recognition. The Empire’s crafters had since produced replicas capable of achieving similar effects, though those were single-use items lasting only twenty-four hours.
Colak had done this too many times to count. Infiltrations against the Monarchs’ armies, support operations for the excavation efforts in the eastern lands. That particular campaign was bleeding the Empire dry. Every attempt to establish a foothold on the eastern continent carved a deeper wound into Imperial resources, which was precisely why this Conquest mattered.
The Empire needed to grow. Needed fresh territory, fresh blood, fresh strength to project against the denizens of the east. Having participated in that expedition himself, Colak understood the math with painful clarity: numbers meant nothing against easterners. Their individual strength was astronomical and unreasonable. The Empire needed quality, not quantity, and that meant expanding its pool of talent.
Which was why he intended to see this Conquest succeed personally.
It should be simple enough. Enter through the back while the main force drew attention to the front. Infiltrate the palace. The aerial forces this little nation possessed would scramble to cover the distance the Seventh Legion had created, leaving their rear exposed. Even if they held something in reserve for an ambush, it would prove useless.
They were the Fourth Legion, after all.
The Empire maintained five essential arms of military power. The Legions ranked lowest among them, nine in total, arranged in strict hierarchy. The Fourth and Seventh had been called to this Conquest, and while the Seventh held respectable strength, the Fourth stood as the Empire’s most formidable ground force.
Of course, back home they were still considered little more than a mob compared to the higher arms.
Colak remembered encounters with members and Captains of those superior forces. The way their presence alone made him feel small. Insignificant. He had volunteered for the eastern expedition hoping it would earn him promotion into those ranks, preferably one of the first three arms. Instead, he’d been elevated to Legion Captain.
Six steps above common soldier. He was grateful for it.
But he wanted more.
“Captain Colak, sir.” The voice came from his right. “Isn’t that fog getting more suspicious?”
Colak turned to regard the young man beside him. Hasan, his direct assistant, with red hair that faded to black toward the tips, cut in uneven layers. Then Colak looked forward.
They had encountered multiple monsters on their approach, engaging none of them thanks to the dome. But the further they traveled, the fewer creatures they’d seen. That absence nagged at him.
It would not have seemed strange to anyone else. But Colak had raided rifts. Had fought field monsters across three continents. Monsters were territorial by nature. The fact that different species had congregated in one area only to vanish entirely as they approached this particular stretch of forest…
He had suspected something was wrong before Hasan spoke. The young man’s words merely confirmed it.
Colak raised his fist.
The entire column stopped as one. Behind him, the hooves of their hell horses swept to stillness against the forest soil, the sound swallowed by the dome’s influence.
They were close now. Close enough to see the fog clearly.
It covered the forest before them like a wall of darkness that surpassed even the moonless night. Not mist. Not natural vapor. Something else entirely.
“Hmmm.” Colak studied it with half-lidded eyes. “Concerning.”
Behind them, the soldiers followed his gaze to the wall of blackness. Chuckles rippled through the ranks. To them, this was merely another obstacle for their Captain to dispatch. Another story to tell over drinks.
In Colak, they trusted.
At his side, Hasan studied the dark fog with more caution, jet-black eyes cataloging every detail worth noting.
“Could it be another monster?” he asked. “Something that spread its domain and drove the others away?”
“Most likely.” Colak nodded slowly, still watching the fog. “And something tells me our dome will be useless once we’re inside.” He paused, considering. “If this is truly a manifested domain of some kind, it won’t be simple to eradicate. Expect it to be a Behemoth.”
Hasan nearly fell from his saddle. “Behemoth? Captain, that should be impossible!”
“Indeed. It should be.” Colak’s voice remained flat. “We received no intelligence suggesting anything of this magnitude. But we cannot conclude until we confirm.”
Hasan’s expression had gone pale. “Shouldn’t we send word back to Lord Pyrrhus?”
Colak closed his eyes and opened them. Then he raised his head to the dark sky, and a cold smile curved his lips.
“There’ll be no need for that.”
Hasan turned to read his Captain’s face, confusion plain on his features.
Colak’s voice cut through the night like a blade.
“Soldiers! Defense formation, Falcon’s Wing!”
Hasan abandoned his questions. His hand swept to his back and brought out a long, conical shield in one fluid motion. His legs clamped against his horse’s flanks, directing the beast into position. Around him, the column responded with practiced precision, hell horses neighing as they wheeled into formation. The line folded into itself with flawless cohesion, shields rising in unison, spreading across the landscape like a pair of wings preparing for flight.
The formation locked into place. The shields shimmered. Red light erupted from their surfaces, forming a canopy of protective energy above the column.
In that same instant, something massive fell from the sky.
A black rod, impossibly large, struck the canopy dead center. The shield didn’t crack. It simply ceased to exist, shattering into smithereens like glass meeting a hammer. The formation beneath it fared no better. Soldiers and hell horses alike were hurled into the air, ragdolled by force that seemed to mock gravity itself.
Cold wind exploded from the point of impact. It became a blizzard in the space of a heartbeat, ice and darkness howling outward in every direction. Shadows pooled across the forest floor, spreading like spilled ink, and from those shadows came spikes, black, sharp and growing.
They stabbed upward into horses and men alike. A grotesque tree of darkness, spreading its branches through flesh and bone.
