Tini Bazus did not take it and spoke with agitation: "I’ve had enough of war and death. I don’t want to be a soldier anymore!"
Torrelugo’s smile instantly turned into a frown: "You don’t want to be a soldier?! You’re neither a woman nor an old man or a child. The fact that Volenus sent you over here shows that you’re not some special talent that Maximus needs. It proves you’re only fit to be a soldier here with us! Since you’ve joined us, you should obey our arrangements. If you don’t, we’ll have no choice but to ask you to leave. Think carefully about your decision!"
Torrelugo’s threat made Tini Bazus calm down. He thought for a moment and understood: on this land ruled by the Romans, without the protection of the rebel army, escape would be impossible. If caught by the Romans, his past as a fugitive would surely earn him the harshest punishment...
Thinking of all this, he quickly grabbed the small wooden piece while softening his tone, saying, "I was confused earlier, but now I’ve figured it out. I want to be a soldier and fight the Romans in the future!"
"That’s more like it!" Torrelugo’s anger vanished, and he clapped Tini Bazus on the shoulder. "Our ranks are growing fast. Work hard, and you could become a ten captain or even a centurion someday."
"Oh." Tini Bazus acknowledged flatly, showing no joy at Torrelugo’s encouragement.
"By the way, among today’s recruits, are there any comrades from your days in the Pontus army?" Torrelugo looked at him expectantly.
"Yes, about a few dozen. We were captured and sent to Italy together, then sold to that farm. Over the years... more than ten have already died..." Tini Bazus said with a gloomy expression.
Torrelugo hesitated for a moment before cursing loudly, "Damn Romans!"
Tini Bazus was about to leave when Horace called out to him, pointing at the tattered clothes on the ground: "Put on your outer garment."
Tini Bazus bent down to pick up his clothes, then suddenly remembered something and couldn’t help but comment, "Among the newcomers, there are women, right? Are they required to strip for inspection too?"
"Of course they have to strip for inspection. But don’t worry; female nurses handle their checks," Horace explained.
Torrelugo added sternly, "Seems you’re not entirely trustworthy. Let me warn you—don’t harass the women here, or you’ll pay for it dearly!"
Though he didn’t completely understand, Tini Bazus nodded obediently. Just as he stepped outside, he saw another man in armor brush past him and enter the military tent. Soon, loud voices erupted from within: "Fesaros! It’s not time yet. What are you doing here?"
"Torrelugo, you’re too greedy! You keep picking the sturdy ones for your squad, leaving Camillus and me stuck with the weaklings!"
"How I choose is my prerogative. Who asked me to win the draw? When the time comes, you can do the same as me."
Seeing the slaves ahead of him getting farther away, almost about to cross a wooden gate, Tini Bazus dared not stay idle and swiftly caught up.
Beyond the gate was a courtyard, with no tents but rows of buildings. The line they were in led to the largest house, which resembled a warehouse.
Tini Bazus caught up to the man in front and asked, "Clumsy Ox, where were you assigned?"
The young man known as "Clumsy Ox" was actually named Samoras, a cowherd from the farm responsible for plowing fields, and was acquainted with Tini Bazus. Scratching his head shyly, Samoras said, "I... I forgot... Oh, they gave me this." As he spoke, he handed over the wooden piece he held.
"I can’t make sense of this thing. Show it to the people here later."
"Oh." Samoras scratched his head again and then spoke excitedly, "Tini Bazus, someone just told me... told me I could be a great soldier. If I follow orders, I could become a ten... ten captain and command lots of people someday!"
"It’s called a ten captain." Tini Bazus glanced at Samoras’s burly figure, then his simple-minded grin. He couldn’t bear to dampen his spirits but instead encouraged him: "Not bad! When you do become a ten captain, don’t forget to take care of me."
"Don’t worry, Tini Bazus! I won’t let others bully you in the future." Samoras said while thumping his chest.
"Thanks a lot." Tini Bazus smiled teasingly.
"Hey! The big guy over there, hurry up!" A voice called out from the front.
"That’s for you!" Tini Bazus nudged Samoras.
Samoras quickly turned and ran forward.
In front of the warehouse gate was a wooden table, at the head of which sat an elderly man with closed eyes, seemingly dozing. Beside him were two young boys, while several other boys and girls stood around the table...
The sight startled Tini Bazus: Did I just walk into a lair full of children?
He was soon taken aback to see the children busily working—writing, fetching items, leading people—each with their own duties. In no time, they finished Samoras’s registration neatly.
"Next!" One of the boys sitting at the wooden table called out loudly.
Tini Bazus put away his dismissive attitude and responded formally, "Present!" Then, mimicking what he’d observed earlier, he promptly handed over his wooden piece.
The boy took the wooden piece and read softly, "Fifth Battalion, First Squad..."
The boy beside him immediately flipped to a page in the register in front of him.
"What’s your name?" asked the boy.
"How do you spell it?"
"I... I can’t read." Tini Bazus had always been accustomed to his illiteracy, but now, facing these boys and girls, he suddenly felt a pang of shame.
The other boy wasn’t surprised by this. Thinking for a moment, he scribbled a few notes in the register.
The boy spoke earnestly, "Following Leader Maximus’s orders, every soldier joining the Supply Camp Guard will receive two pottery jars—"
Before he finished, the boy next to him placed two pottery jars on the wooden table.
"These jars are for porridge and soup in the future. You must take good care of them! If they break, there won’t be any replacements in the warehouse, and you’ll be in trouble," the boy warned with great seriousness.
Tini Bazus nodded to show he understood.
"One linen coat... one linen sleep sheet... one pair of grass sandals... one linen backpack..." Each time he listed an item, the other boy fetched it from behind the warehouse and set it on the table.
In these past two months, many enslaved women had joined the Supply Camp. Maximus had gathered the clever ones to form a Weaving Team, tasked with cutting and sewing plundered linen into coats, backpacks, and bed sheets, while weaving grass into sandals. Due to time constraints, supplies were still limited, and Maximus only allocated them to members of the Supply Camp, a decision that had drawn criticism from other battalions.
"And a training shield and short sword," added the boy. Soon, a crude wooden board and stick were placed on the table.
"That’s the short sword and shield?!" Tini Bazus widened his eyes.
"Once you become a qualified soldier in the Guard, you’ll naturally receive real shields and short swords," the boy replied confidently. "Besides, these were painstakingly made by the uncles in the weapons warehouse, so take good care of them! We’ll be collecting them back later."
Tini Bazus didn’t complain further. In truth, he hadn’t expected to receive so much upon joining the rebel army. Even when forcibly conscripted by Pontus, their officers hadn’t been so meticulous in the beginning.
"Count your belongings carefully and then sign your name or leave your fingerprint here." After speaking, the boy next to him pushed the register forward.
Tini Bazus stared at the rows of written characters in the register, unable to recognize any of them. Following the boy’s instructions, he dipped his right thumb in black mud and pressed it onto the blank space.
"Naisuya," the boy called out, "Please take this soldier to the Fifth Hundred-man Team, First Squad."
"Got it, Brother Akegu," a delicate and slender young girl replied cheerfully, walking over to the table. She packed the items into the backpack, slung it over her shoulder, leaving only the wooden shield and stick aside. Then she smiled at Tini Bazus and said, "Follow me, please."