Kotys glanced at the riders already upon them, and he couldn't help but shake his head with regret.
However, the slave boy observed the soft glow exuding from Rainer's body, watching as it now completely faded. Suddenly his eyes glinted with realization.
"Could you be a go—"
"Stand back, slave!"
An eques barked, cutting him off, and Hoplite quickly scrambled back.
The horsemen, garbed in lorica hamata over green tunics promptly surrounded them. Their rounded gallic helmets with cheek guards glinted an ominous red from the raised torches.
Soon, the group stopped and pointed their spears at him.
A muscular man dismounted from his horse, and his lorica segmentata and hobnailed sandals clanked. He then marched toward Rainer with slow, measured steps, expression dark as his green-crested gallic helmet caught the light. His hand rested firmly on the sheathed gladius attached to his belt.
He stopped and shot a questioning glance at Kotys before looking down toward Rainer who peered up at him with a smirk and an intrigued gleam in his eyes.
"Nice helmet, really flashy!" Rainer wittily praised.
At that, the man's hardened visage became a sight to behold; shock, incredulity, disbelief all flashed across, halting at disgust.
Without looking, he reached out for a spear and it was handed to him. Then without hesitation, he raised it up to thrust down on Rainer.
Rainer's eyes quickly widened in shock and alarm.
"Optio!" Kotys called, and the officer stopped his motion.
"I do not think he is a daemon." He informed with a tense furrow to his brow. "He doesn't have the eyes, nor the bloodlust of one!"
He grunted lightly but ignored Kotys' statement to continue his downward thrust.
"He is right, Commius."
He was stopped once again. However, this time by an officer on horseback.
The officer trotted toward him with a slash scar over his lips, and an intrigued smile on his face despite the grimness of the situation.
"It's a wonder that the Praefect's slave, which you obviously didn't murder, came back to life, isn't it?" Sabazios jokingly remarked.
Commius slowly turned and gazed back at him with a hard expression.
"What are you implying? Decurio Secundus Sabazios?" He lowly demanded.
Sabazios' smile fell and he shifted his weight slightly on his horse.
"This is the Praefect's slave. If he is to die once more, it must be decided by Lord Praefect himself." He evenly stated, tactfully evading the question.
Commius slowly gazed back at Rainer who looked up at him like he was crazy.
He closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.
Then suddenly, with one swift motion, he turned on his heels and walked back, his cape swooshing dust onto Rainer's face.
"Bound up the daemon and take him back to camp!"
He commanded, and a few soldiers immediately dismounted, one carrying a rope.
Rainer watched the bloodthirsty leave and let out a relieved sigh before looking away.
'How many times have I been transmigrated into the Roman civilization already?'
He wondered, taking in the sky again.
'Although I can count them on the fingers of my palms, each life was full of thrill and excitement... But perhaps, this will be my last. For my fated end, draws nigh.'
He took in a deep breath and forced a smile, an excited but emotionally charged light burning in his eyes.
'Cheer up, Rainer! Its the Roman Empire! Might as well make it count!'
–––
'Well,' He sniffed. 'Things really did develop quickly.'
Rainer found himself bound to a wooden cross, the heat of the bonfire behind him licking his bare back as it raged.
Below, Roman auxiliary soldiers grouped about, looking up at him with varying expressions as they chattered excitedly amongst themselves.
In essence, he was a spectacle.
Before him was a massive white tent, way bigger than the other tents in the camp. And at its fore stood various officers, their prestigious armors and crested helmets making them stand out from the rest.
"Silence!"
Commius barked as a man looking to be in his sixties, came out of the tent.
Despite his age, he was a muscular man with an unreadable visage.
Dressed in a white tunic under a pristine, gold-encrusted lorica segmentata. A white-crested gallic helmet sat fittingly upon his head as he stood imposing and ready for battle.
The soldiers' chatter quickly died down.
*Click!* *Clank!*
The officer stepped forward with a martial grace. It was clear that he was a cut above the rest. Tall, tan, and built like a Greek statue. And to top it off, he looked Greek too.
His callous grey eyes gazed up at Rainer, examining him intently.
Rainer perked up, feeling suddenly naked before this man's scrutiny. He frowned at the sensation, but then his eyes glinted in realization.
'Oh! So this is the Camp Commander... or should I honorably say, Praefectus Cohortis! Judging by the size of this camp and the fancy trinket attached to his armor. This must be the Prefect of this auxiliary cohort, likely a milliara equitata, composed of slightly over a thousand soldiers.'
He had long made this assessment during his time being dragged and paraded about across the camp.
Honestly, he felt a bit resentful for being treated this way. He wanted a bit of payback.
'Perhaps I'll scare them or something.'
Having this thought, Rainer looked back at the Cohort's Prefect and grinned a sharp smile not quite reaching his eyes.
The Commander's eyes wavered slightly, and his eyelids lowered, but he didn't speak; he simply signaled for a stool and sat down.
But Rainer appeared content; he had found what he had been looking for in his eyes: apprehension.
"Optio Commius!"
The Prefect called in a smooth but hard baritone.
At this, Commius stepped forth. He was the officer who had brought Rainer in: The second-in-command of the first century.
Before Commius could speak, however, a soldier yelled out from the crowd.
"This is a bad omen, Lord Praefect!"
"Why has a daemon been brought into the camp?!" Exclaimed another in angst.
Suddenly, one took a staggered step forward; badly bruised and battered with red bandages wrapped around his exposed right arm and left eye.
"Twice! Have we tried and failed to breach the garrison fort of the rebels who revolted! And now, one of Lord Praefect's slaves becomes possessed by a daemon?! Is the battle not lost already?!?"
Hearing this, the Commius' face reddened.
"I said, silence, fools! Further acts of disobedience shall be corrected by whips to the backside!"
He brutally reprimanded, and the soldiers shrank under his ferocious rebuke.
Standing at the other side of the Prefect was an officer garbed in a damaged and worn lorica segmentata. He exchanged brief glances with the Praefect before stepping forward to address Rainer.
"Slave, do you remember who you are? Or are you truly a daemon as the milites claim?"
His calm, centering voice carried through the air like a powerful wave, and if it was quiet before—now all was still as the soldiers craned their necks to listen.
Rainer's gaze swept around before returning to locked eyes with the officer.
A small smile tugged at the side of his lips, and a pleased light settled in his eyes. He dipped his chin toward the man in acknowledgment of his commanding spirit before sweeping his gaze across the islands of torches and wide-eyed stares under the dark night.
"I am—not the person you may have once known."
Rainer uttered in a soft, barely audible whisper. But they all heard it, and the implications rushed through their minds.
At this moment, a chilling wind blew through the air, and Rainer went silent as he allowed the soldiers mull over his words.
For a while, they remained still and silent. However, from the haunted looks worn by some soldiers, Rainer knew his intended effect was starting to take hold.
A slow, savage grin began threatening to split his face as his eyes glimmered in satisfaction.
'How long has it been since I was feared? This is a tantalizing feeling... Their fear sends pleasant tingles down my spine. Unfortunately, I shouldn't let this linger, or they might panic and act rashly.'
Regardless of how mysterious he may be acting now. Rainer knew he could just as well be slain with ease.
However, just as he was about to break the silence, a soldier glared at everyone with wide, bloodshot eyes, and raised his spear to the sky, spearpoint gleaming like a viper's fang in the torches.
"What, then, are we waiting for!?" He cried out like a maddened berserker. "We should kill this daemon before it curses the camp!!"
With that, the soldier charged at him with his spear.
Rainer's smug demeanor immediately switched to horror, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, watching the glistening, pointy spear come for him.
"Eh!? Kill what?! Wait! Don't!!"
The soldier stabbed up at his belly, and at once, Rainer bent hard to the side, dodging the spear. The soldier drew back and thrust again, and this time Rainer bent to the other side.
The soldier gritted his teeth in a mix of embarrassment and frustration before thrusting again, several times in quick succession. This left Rainer desperately wriggling about like a strung-up eel on a fisherman's hook.
"Wai–wait! I am not a daemon!!" He desperately cried out. "Do not let this madman poke me with the pointy stick!"
Rainer felt regretful and wronged.