"Leader, rest assured, leave it to me!" Torrelugo assured confidently, patting his chest.
Maximus then turned to Horace, who had been waiting nearby: "How are the wounded?"
"There aren’t many wounded, their wounds have all been bandaged and their conditions are stable." Horace replied succinctly.
Maximus said, "Since your Medical Team has plenty of hands, treat those enemy wounded over there as well."
"Alright." Horace agreed without hesitation. Having been the Medical Team leader for over a year, saving lives had become almost second nature to him. He had originally found those enemies lying on the ground, wailing and crying, pitiable. Now, with Maximus’ nod, he could hardly wait to take people over there.
But Torrelugo objected: "Leader, those are our enemies, don’t be fooled by their pitiful state now. They were very fierce when they attacked us before, and if our people go to save them, they might get hurt!"
"That’s why you have to protect the medical team members well. If even one is injured, I’ll settle accounts with you later." Maximus said half-jokingly, half-seriously.
Torrelugo was about to continue objecting, but Maximus reminded him sternly: "Don’t consider them enemies now; perhaps in the future, they’ll be our people. Show some goodwill now, and earn some goodwill later!"
Torrelugo stood there stunned.
Maximus walked straight back to the troops and shouted loudly: "Brothers, the brothers who fought here before have achieved a great victory, now it’s your turn! Do you have the confidence to win an even greater victory?!"
"Yes!!!" The soldiers, who had already seen the battlefield situation, shouted in unison, their fighting spirit heightened.
"Set off!" Maximus waved his hand forcefully as the army marched eastward across the battlefield.
Along the way, they could occasionally see Segestica’s wounded soldiers lying on the ground, and occasionally a group of rebel army soldiers escorting prisoners back...
The soldiers’ eagerness to fight grew more urgent, quickening their pace.
Quintus rode up to catch up.
"Have you already asked Torrelugo about the course of the battle?" Maximus asked effortlessly.
Quintus nodded and briefly recounted the entire battle to him.
After listening, Maximus asked, "What do you think of the Segestica people’s army?"
"They have no organized structure, no discipline, no strict training, no detailed command, only some crude and simple tactics. Once fighting begins, they become chaotic. This is still an ignorant and backward tribal force, not even considered an army." Quintus harshly commented.
"But the Aldeans said they were formidable." Maximus said leisurely.
"This shows that the Aldeans are even less capable in battle." Quintus concluded bluntly.
"Hearing you say this, I have gained a bit more confidence in defeating the Pannonians!" Maximus smiled gently.
Quintus quickly reminded, "Leader, the Pannonians are indeed much stronger than us, and their population is many times ours. As the war continues, no one can predict the outcome."
"I understand, a snake trying to swallow an elephant isn’t easy, and the war has just begun." Maximus suppressed his smile, patrolling ahead, murmuring, "There’s no other choice but to take risks, we must make haste..."
"Leader, what did you say?" Quintus didn’t catch it.
Maximus did not respond, instead asked, "Has Flanitnus stayed behind?"
"Yes, he’s clearing the battlefield and handling some post-war affairs."
"I fear it won’t be long before he’s called forward to the front again." Maximus once again flashed a confident smile and pointed forward: "Come on, let’s see how capable the Segestica people are in defending the city."
.....................
Wallis fled along the way; in extreme panic, he ran more than eight miles without stopping.
When he reached the village, the gate was already blocked by the panicked fleeing soldiers. After all, he was wearing armor (having already discarded the helmet), which made it impossible to outrun the Light Infantry tribesmen, resulting in him being left behind. If it weren’t for the guards protecting him with their lives, he would have almost become a prisoner of the pursuing rebel soldiers.
"Bastards! Move aside, the leader needs to get in!..." The guards shouted as they roughly pushed away the fleeing soldiers in front.
Wallis looked back to see the enemies not far behind, furiously chasing, causing his heart to beat wildly. He shouted hoarsely: "Quick! Let’s enter through the east gate!"
The group hurriedly rounded to the east gate, which was blocked with fleeing soldiers as well, but far less crowded than the west gate.
As the guards pushed and pulled to clear the way into the village for Wallis, free from the pressure of the closely pursuing enemies, Wallis regained some clarity. He urgently shouted to his younger brother: "Clarys, hurry and ask Chief Cabdes for reinforcements! Be quick, or our village is done for!"
Clarys nodded heavily and, dragging his weary body, continued running east.
Wallis entered the village. The residents were already aware of the army’s devastating defeat and were in great panic, rushing up to Wallis to inquire about the situation.
"Get lost! All of you, get lost!..." Wallis, usually quite kind to the tribespeople, now hissed insults.
The guards reluctantly followed his command to drive the tribespeople away.
Wallis called his trusted Guard Captain: "Munsendes, the situation is urgent now. Immediately reorganize the warriors who entered the village and secure the gates on both sides! Then send people to organize the other tribesmen, have them all take up weapons, and secure the village walls! Tell them that as long as we hold on for a while, Chief Cabdes’ reinforcements will arrive, and we’ll save our village, understand?"
The Guard Captain nodded repeatedly and then suddenly realized something: "Leader, what about you?"
"I need to drink some goat milk, I’m parched!" Wallis panted heavily.
Wallis always felt thirsty when overly agitated... This was known by those close to him, and due to the urgent situation, the Guard Captain could only try to rally the fleeing soldiers without the immediate support of the leader.
Wallis kicked open the door of the master bedroom, startling the young woman bustling inside.
"Quickly bring me a jug of goat milk! Hurry!" Wallis roared.
The woman, like a startled deer, darted to the kitchen.
Wallis plopped down on a wooden chair, dripping with sweat, his undergarments completely soaked, making the hard breastplate dig into his skin uncomfortably. Even more uncomfortable were his lungs, having run continuously for eight or nine miles, each breath was like emptying his entire body, both swelling and painful.
Wallis let out a long breath and leaned back onto the chair, intending to relax a bit. But immediately, images of countless large shields forming red iron walls and the fully armored fierce soldiers on the battlefield rushed into his mind, making him restless again.
Just then, a jug of goat milk was brought to him.
Wallis grabbed it and drank deeply: "Hmm, not bad, there’s honey...
After drinking more than half the jug in one go, he felt somewhat better and began to curse quietly: "Damn enemies, no matter where you came from, no matter how strong you are, once I survive this, I’ll bring thousands of warriors to destroy your tribe, make your women wail naked at my feet!..."