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Marcus rushed about, hauling and singing orcs to their feet where they'd fallen. Most of them appeared to be under the effects of some spell or another, making him remarkably fit for the job. But not all.

Glancing over, he saw a group of Legionnaire healers break away from the formation to do the same. A familiar raven-haired girl stood at their center, protected by the men as they held their shields high. The group descended upon the frozen orcs like ravens, their glowing hands causing the blue-tinged skin of the warriors to revitalize once more. They thawed, their natural healing sending the fighters springing up and into the fray once again. Eleonora herself focused on some of the most extreme cases of injury.

He found himself momentarily distracted by the sight. He'd been aware of the girl's presence accompanying them, of course. But seeing her rushing about the battlefield like this... It seemed that the young [Healer] had integrated herself quite well into the Legion.

She was no leader, of course, nor respected as one. But being able to reattach a man's arm had a way of making him appreciative. Though the leeway she was given gave much more credence to the rumors that swirled around her---rumors that she emphatically denied with blushing cheeks. Rumors that she most definitely wanted to be true, and that Gaius had to be aware of. Maybe he saw it as a useful way to justify her presence on campaign.

He shook the thoughts off and returned to his own work as another cluster of orcs fell to earth like meteors. Apparently, Gaius's dislike for the auxiliaries was outweighed by his desire to win this battle with as few casualties as possible. At least, that's what he assumed, given the healers' movements.

Dragons continued to swoop and dive overhead, constantly changing the environment from blistering hot to freezing cold or filling it with static as they let loose their breath. Despite the relentless barrage of the Legionnaires and orcs, the creatures proved far more durable than even Marcus had expected. Their attacks rarely drew blood or deal serious wounds, even if they did deal surface-level damage. Damage that was healed by the green dragon at every opportunity.

The lack of progress was made worse since the assaults lacked some of the coordination that a singular Legion would have displayed. The orcs continued to fling themselves atop the dragons, yet their doing so caused the Legionnaires to stop firing in an effort to avoid friendly fire. The green-skinned auxiliaries did manage to impair the dragons' movements more effectively, but it wasn't enough. Especially as they continued to be tossed downward.

A roar had Marcus's head snapping upward. A trio of the dragons finished their latest dive and began to climb, attempting to circle around for another pass. The Legion artillery took advantage, zeroing in on their forms and hammering them with renewed vigor. As they dove back down, the heavy gunners rushed to the front of the Legion's formation, focusing fire on them.

The air thrummed as their miniaturized cannons began to glow. The barrels rotated more quickly, firing with unbelievable speed as the gunners laid into the oncoming dragons. The other two beasts peeled away, but the centermost one proved too slow. The Legionnaires focused their fire on the blue dragon as it turned, smashing through scales as they empowered the shots further with skills. The dragon screeched, beginning to wobble as new holes opened faster than they could be healed.

A dozen cannon shots whizzed through the air and smashed into the dragon's head. Its neck snapped back as its wings and limbs suddenly went limp. The massive body fell and skidded across the ground, tearing up gouges of earth as it rolled toward the defending Legionnaires. Marcus turned to run, only to find himself bodily hurled away from the impact by an orc he'd just healed. He hit the ground with a heavy thud that knocked the wind out of him, seeing the orc reduced to a reddish-green smudge.

[Coordinated Bulwark] flashed as the weight crashed into the Legionnaires' formation like a battering ram, sending the entire cluster of Romans skidding backwards across the earth.

The battlefield went mercifully quiet as the hail of gunfire stalled. When the dust finally settled, the Legionnaires remained standing, a massive dragon's corpse lying before them.

There was no time to celebrate, however. The air filled with roars of rage, followed by lead as the other five dragons sought revenge for their comrade. They'd utilized the brief lull to reposition skyward, and now the newly healed dragons dove once more. Power gathered in their maws as they prepared their breath weapons.

Marcus grimaced, taking cover as the attack assaulted the Legionnaires. He saw the gunners pull back, their ammunition depleted for the moment. Their insane shield wall continued to hold for the moment. But even the First Legion's stamina wasn't endless. Worse, the dragons showed no evidence of tiring themselves. They almost seemed to have grown more powerful.

A few glimmers of gold and silver caught his eye. He looked toward the dead blue dragon to notice that it, too, had collected some treasures of its own. A few golden bangles hung around its horns, as well as an ornately cut blue and white stone the size of his head.

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His eyes narrowed. He couldn't help but shake the feeling of wrongness he felt here. Something was strange. He didn't know nearly enough about dragons to say whether their behavior was off somehow. Maybe they carried around treasures from their hoard as a matter of course. Regardless, he'd been certain that whatever they were carrying had done something to their attacks.

The battle began to shift away from the corpse as the Legion repositioned. Casting another furtive glance toward the still very much alive dragons above, Marcus shook his head and darted toward the corpse. If these items worked for dragons, perhaps they could work for the Legionnaires as well. And if they didn't... Well, at least he could benefit a bit from his selfless efforts.

He touched the dragon's limp snout, pulling back sharply as a jolt of electricity struck him. He swore and shook his mostly numb hand before pulling out his spellbook with another. Flipping through the pages with one hand proved far more difficult than he'd hoped, but not impossible.

He quickly read out the spell for [Mage Hand]. A purple hand made of astral energy manifested before him and floated up to one of the dragon's horns. He directed it to retrieve the bangles first, tossing them down to himself before having it work on the larger piece of jewelry.

Marcus inspected the bangles, ducking reflexively every time the battle sounded too close. Sure enough, these were clearly enchanted. What the enchantments actually did, he wasn't nearly experienced enough of a [Mage] or [Enchanter] to tell. But he was certain it was something good.

Taking a deep breath, he clasped one of the bangles onto his arm. It resized to fit him immediately. Energy flooded his body in an instant, making him practically vibrate in place. He suddenly felt as though he could move mountains with his very words.

Curiously, he let loose another [Inspirational Song], this one for the entire Legion. His words covered the battlefield, cutting through even the din of cannonfire and the roars of dragons to reach their ears. He saw the men straighten and rally with renewed vigor.

That was all the evidence he needed. Marcus quickly retrieved the rest of the jewelry---nearly stumbling as the massive stone fell into his arms---and sprinted toward Gaius. The Legatus stood in the center of the Legionnaire formation, barely visible and busily shouting orders to the men.

"Gaius!" Marcus shouted in between verses of his song. "The dragons have armor! Enchanted items! We need to get them off!"

Marcus didn't hesitate to start redistributing his horde. He tossed bangles at random to various Legionnaires and centurions, trusting that they'd figure out what to do with them. He vaguely noticed the men's eyes widen as the equipment's power flooded into them. Meanwhile, Gaius wasted no time in disseminating the orders.

A screech of pain overhead drew Marcus's attention upward. A small, lithe orc scurried across the head of the green dragon, barely visible against its scales. Grund struck precisely placed blows all along its head and neck as he worked to disable the bothersome foe. Marcus had to duck out of the way as the orc methodically began ripping bangles and necklaces off the dragon's horns, slapping some onto his own wrists and tossing the rest to the ground below.

"As the Legatus commands!" Grund shouted. His eyes glowed an eerie red from the [Battle Trance]. "Disarm them, my brothers! Take their gifts for ourselves!"

Finally the tide of battle began to turn. The orcs followed the example of their leader, and before long a hail of gold and gemstones rained down upon the heads of the Legionnaires. The effect was immediate. The dragons slowed, their attacks growing slightly less intense and their movements easier to track.

The Legionnaires smelled blood in the water. The artillery barrage redoubled, this time with more effective results. Cannons that had previously done nothing more than dent scales now crushed deep holes into the dragons' sides. Red blood began to drip out of fresh wounds. Wounds that didn't heal, once Grund managed to maneuver the green dragon into a cannon barrage that rendered it unconscious. The Legionnaires sent a detachment to finish it off shortly after.

The battle raged on for at least an hour. Two more dragons fell before the result of the conflict became clear. The final two dragons, one white and one red, circled skyward and attempted to shake off the remaining orcs from their backs. Then, they began to fly away---one retreating north while the other shot toward the east.

The Legion made sure to give them plenty of parting gifts as they fled. By the time the dragons shrank to barely visible dots in the sky, they looked as though they'd been crushed by the massive fist of an angry god.

Marcus let his song finish before slumping to the ground. He lay there, motionless but for the movement of his chest, for a long while as the Legionnaires and orcs began to regroup. He was certain that they were taking stock of losses and damage and whatnot. But thankfully, that wasn't his problem.

Eleonora's dark-haired face leaned into his vision. "Are you hurt?"

He barely had the energy to shake his head. Even with that enchanted bangle, this battle had left him exhausted. "No. Simply in need of some good rest."

"Fair enough." The harried girl left it at that, hurrying off to see to others. Marcus suspected she had no shortage of patients right now. The fact that she'd gone out of her way to check on him was a bit heartwarming.

He glanced over at his bangle. The style of the thing was oddly familiar. Ornate and finely worked with a skill Marcus had rarely seen. In fact, he'd only seen craftsmanship of this like once in his life. Very recently, when he'd trekked to the northern mountains to visit the dwarves.

He closed his eyes briefly. He would need to talk with Gaius about this. But the man was busy right now, and the Legion was certain to be on the move again soon. In the meantime, perhaps he could take the slightest bit of a nap.

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