Alrighty! Here it is! I am sorry that it is a couple days late... But hey, better late than never! Am I right!? Any whos, here's the chapter, see you at the bottom! ON WITH THE STORY!:

Around a week later, in Northern Aquitania….

Percy felt a boot kick him in his side. He looked over and saw his Evocati(equivalent of a Sergeant), "Get up!" he shouted, "We're moving out!"

Percy quickly got up, bowed, and began putting on his armor. He put on his Lorica Hamata, early form of chainmail, strapped on his Manica armguard, and slammed on his Gallic Helmet, and sprinted off. He ran a few feet, but realized something… He forgot his parma shield, pilum spear, and gladius! He sprinted back to the tent, fumbling with the gladius buckle, and put his parma on his right arm, held his pilum on the other.

He decided to cast a look over, and saw Michael sprinting over to where the other archers stood. He wore his Lorica Hamata, his glandium helmet(an acorn-shaped helmet, which signified that he belonged to the Elite Acuator Marksman Cohort), and his oak longbow on his back. Charlus was standing in the Grave(Grah-vA) Certamen(A cohort of men specialized in two-handed weaponry), wearing his Gallic Helmet, his Lorica Sementa, which was a heavier form of scaled armor, and his fearsome hammer on his back. Leos was assigned to be the Legion Smithy's apprentice.

He formed up in his cohort, made up of 500 Legionnaires, which his was titled the 4th Cohort, of the 23rd Legion. Their banner had the roman numerals: IV, which meant four. The cohort formed up, and fell in behind the 1st Cohort. After all the other cohort had formed up beside them, Imperatus Decimus rode up to the front of the 23rd Legion. Once he was there, he began to speak, his voice booming over the assembled Legion.

"As you all know!" He began, thundering over the silent troopers, "We have been joined by another 37,500 legionnaires from the 3rd Legion!" The Legion roared with approval, slamming their pilium's against their shields."Also, I have wondrous news!" The cheering died immediately when he said these words. "We have been ordered by Rome itself to attack the Pict's!" A few a blood lust soldiers gave a cheer, everyone else was in shocked silence. The Pict's, were by far, the most dangerous enemy Rome has ever faced, despite being one of the smaller enemies.

"I know that you are all terrified of what will happen!" The Imperatus continued, his voice echoing over the heavy silence, "The Pict's will be, by far, the toughest enemy this Legion will ever face!" He roared again, "But, this Legion will always conquer! We will never allow defeat to fill our glasses!" He yelled, causing more thumping of pilium's being smashed against their shields. "Our words, taken from brave King Leonidas himself: Never surrender, Never retreat, Death be first!" This caused the men to chant the words, Percy being one of them. "Now, with that all said and done, let's begin the march!" With that, the rest of the Legion formed their marching formation, with the 1st and 2nd up in the front, with the fourth behind them, and the fifth and sixth behind that, with the third pulling up the rear.

Time Skip, Three Weeks...

Percy could finally see land ahead of the ship. The large armada had taken a week to cross the strait between Aquitania and Britannia. He took one last, deep breath, his lungs filling with the salt water that he had come to love. It was his first time on a ship, and despite the fact that most Romans believed that Neptune and the sea were bad luck, Percy found it extremely comforting. He didn't know why, but it almost seemed that the sea was a part of him, as if the salty water coursed through his veins.

He looked over to the deck, and saw that most of his comrades were upchucking over the sides, spilling their meals into the waters. Percy didn't know why he wasn't doing that either. He reviewed the past few weeks in his mind, going over every little detail. The Legion had marched up the dirt roads, to a port city where boats were waiting to deliver the Legion to the Capital of Roman Britannia, Londinium(Present-day London, was abandoned in the 5th century, later repopulated by the Saxons). While on the road, the 37,500 men from the 3rd Legion joined up with them, creating a formidable army of 87,500 Roman warriors.

The city of Londinium was in the distance, only 1.131 miles away. How Percy knew that, he had no idea. He shook his head, clearing the confusion from his mind. Now was not the time for these kinds of thoughts. The Legion/s, were being delivered in four waves, wave 1 had already landed last week, and Percy was a part of wave 2. Each wave had consisted of 21,875 warriors. They did it this way, in case there was a storm, and a wave didn't make it, a t least the entire Legion/s wouldn't have been lost.

As they drew ever closer to the land, Percy began to have a feeling of dread settle in his gut, a feeling that this would be the grave of many good men...

Time Skip, Four Weeks...

They had finally passed Hadrian's Wall, which was the last checkpoint between Roman Britannia, and the savage Picts to the North. Percy had half expected to find the wall overrun, with the stories that had been spreading through the Legion. The wall was at least forty feet tall, with a width of probably ten feet. There were Roman Longbowmen at every fifteen-feet intervals, all along the wall.

As they passed the roman legionnaires that were on either side of the large iron-gate blocking their path, Percy could've sworn that their eyes were empty, as if they had seen sights too horrible to describe...

Past the wall, rolling green plains rolled through small hills, with the occasional pine tree sprouting, breaking the sea of vegetation. Beyond that, they could possibly one of the most dangerous areas to even think of crossing. The black pine forests, where many a legion had fallen victim to an ambush. The very place that they were marching straight towards. Percy tried to think of something funny to say that could cheer some of the others up, however, that's how depressing the mood was.

Time Skip, Two Weeks...

They had long entered the forests of the Pict-lands, and everyone was terrified. Well over hundreds of thousands of roman legionnaires had died within these trees. Men seemed to jump into battle formations at every little noise, and stay that way for hours. The long-line of warriors had slowly made progress through, pretty much, it seemed they only covered maybe one mile a day, in which normally, they would've been halfway through Pictland by this point.

Finally the Imperatus had seemed exhausted of this slow crawl, and he ordered four smaller, cohort sized forts to be built around the main fort-camp. The 1st Cohort, 3rd Cohort, 4th Cohort, and the 2nd Cohort of the 3rd Legion were picked to man the forts, along with building them.

And that is presently what Percy was doing at this moment, he was spending his time, toiling away in the dirt, building rapid fortifications, that would probably keep him alive for his time there. So, as you can imagine, he had a lot of concern in how they were built. He had been working for several days already, which was very exhausting work once you get down to it.

These fortifications were supposed to be temporary, or so the Imperatus claimed. They seemed pretty permanent to Percy. He couldn't help but wonder, if they would need these fortifications...

Time Skip, Three Days...

The fortifications had been finished on Fort Murus, and Percy was now patrolling the walls late at night. He was standing next to another low-ranked Legionnaire, Sorellius. They had just passed one of the four corners, when Percy felt the instinct to duck. He did so, and heard a sickening, -SCHLIK-, and looked to see a spear was protruding from Sorellius' neck.

Percy only had a few moments to react; he ripped his Gladius from his scabbard, and yelled at the top of his lungs: "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" Several people wearing fur and leather hides, were jumping over the sides of the palisades. Percy ran forward, and swung his blade across one of their ribs. He fell backwards, impaling himself on a palisade, staining it a deep-red.

He quickly rolled, feeling a whip of air pass over his head. Percy whipped around, kicking as he went, knocking another's legs out from under them. He drover his blade through the fallen person's torso. He ripped his gladius out, hearing the squelch. The short blade was slick and dripping with blood.

Two more people ran forward, one with a heavy-axe, the other with a halbard. Percy took a rapid glance, at the camp, and his heart sank. It looked as if most of the cohort were dead, with only a handful of stragglers trying to fight back. His attentions was dragged back to the fight when the man with a halberd swung towards his chest. Percy threw himself sideways, but the sharp blade caught the edge of his arm, ripping a long, deep gash from the center of his biceps, to the point on his elbow.

He bit his tongue, which his teeth punched straight through, causing his mouth to bleed. He brought his gladius up into a block form, just in time o block an upper-cut by the man with an axe. He pushed the axe-man back, and slashed the halbard guy across the hip, causing the man to topple off the wall into the camp. One down, one to go.

The man with the axe rushed Percy, and he brandished his axe in a beautiful, yet mortally dangerous arc. Percy had to continuously dodge to avoid he arcs the axe created. He couldn't seem to get an opening. Finally though, an opening came. As the man swung his axe, Percy had dodged it, and it got lodged within the wood. Percy took advantage of the brief opening, and sliced the man head in two. Pitch black blood gushed out of the cleaved head, gushing out onto Percy's sandals.

Percy turned around quickly, and felt something punch straight through his armor, in his left pectoral. An arrow now sprouted where the pain was shooting up, dark red blood seeping from the hole it created. It barely missed his left lung, just one centimeter above it. The breath was pile-driven from his lungs. And excruciating pain came from it. He looked around, and saw that he was the last standing legionnaire.

A man approached him, and put a sack over his head. That was the last thing he remembered as his world went dark...

Okee dokee, sorry for the cliff-hanger, and sorry that this is a couple days late! I got too caught up in reading House of Hades, but I finally did it! So, here is the chapter, I hope you enjoy, and as always, Have A Nice Day!

Next update: 10-26-13