Chapter 105: The Empire’s Frontier (Part 2)

This is an area where the empire has long been conquered by barbarians. Their uncivilized nature has made this place desolate and devoid of civilization. The fertile land is covered with waist-high weeds, and the people here are even fewer than the wild animals in the jungle.

Except for the footprints in the middle that could barely be called a road, these were the only footprints left by the Burgundians for us to follow. They were really panicking, after all, they were fighting against the Western Roman Empire, which was considered a superpower, and running away was their usual practice when they couldn't win.

"Luga! It's really hard to imagine!" Andrew seemed bored in the front, so he stepped back to chat with me, "You don't know how hurriedly the Burgundians left. They didn't even leave the most basic roadblocks or traps to stump us."

"Oh, Andrew, how do you know they didn't leave a trap?" I must have been ambushed. Even though I was sitting in the last carriage, I still had to look back and forth at the surrounding bushes from time to time. You know, the bushes were half a person tall and connected together. How could I not ambush the entire army? It would be a waste of such a good terrain. I only dared to imagine this idea casually, and I definitely didn't dare to speak it out loud. If I suddenly got a bad mouth, I'm afraid it would be really difficult to run this time!

"Look at the troops in front of us. They hold their heads high and look fearless." Andrew pointed at the troops in front and said to me, "When have we ever been so arrogant? There must be a large number of scouts leading the way, otherwise they wouldn't be like this."

"Oh, shut up, Andrew, I'm afraid you'll say that." I wanted to laugh, but the wound on my chest hurt just breathing, so I could only endure it, as if Andrew had just farted. Seeing him walking so breathlessly, I insisted on caring for my comrades, and I reached out and lifted him up. I saw that the coachman didn't complain about the overload and the carriage falling apart. The two of us were at ease sitting in the carriage together.

The old coachman next to me, with his weathered look on his face, attracted me. Although the smell on his body did make it difficult for people to get close to him, I covered my mouth and nose and thought I could still have a few words with him. Since he was not looking around and was concentrating on driving, there was really no fun on the way.

"Hey, you, I haven't seen you before!"

I covered my mouth and nose with a piece of cloth and asked him in a muffled voice.

"Ha! Sir, I am from the occupied area, and you are from the legion. How could we have met?"

The old coachman grinned and laughed, and the bad breath hit me as expected. Fortunately, I was prepared. Otherwise, I would have fainted and fallen off the carriage, becoming the first centurion in the history of the empire to be suffocated by bad breath.

"Can you, the imperial citizens in the occupied areas, be treated well by them?"

This is the question I want to ask most. I want to know the answer from this old man who seems to have experienced many eras.

“Actually, there isn’t much difference.”

The old coachman laughed and quickly shut up after saying this, probably because he knew he had said something wrong. I don't know if he was using a smile to cover up his nervousness or if he was worried about something else, but even though he smiled, his expression was not natural.

He turned his head and looked at me, but he didn't dare to look me in the eye, because he thought that this would definitely anger me as an official. He shook his head and whispered to me: "These are just the one-sided words of a humble servant. I hope you won't be angry!"

"Just say it directly. I'm not trying to test his knowledge." I smiled and patted his shoulder, trying to tell him that I was friendly enough and worthy of his trust.

But this was far from enough. Seeing his hesitation, I crossed myself in front of him and said, "I swear to God, if I tell anyone about our conversation today, I will not be able to enter heaven."

At that time, this was a solemn oath that would punish one with thunder and lightning. After all, those who knew God or were faithful believers of Christianity regarded heaven as their ultimate pursuit in life, no matter if they were kings or humble commoners.

But the old coachman still had some distrust. He looked at Andrew who was sitting next to me with worry. It turned out that he was worried about this guy.

In order to reassure him, I forced Andrew to repeat what I had just said. This guy was quite reluctant. After all, he was a devout Christian and he was afraid it would come true. And me, please, I've already died once and nothing happened!

The old coachman finally believed it. He chuckled again and said, "To be honest with you, my lords, in my opinion, there is not much difference between our imperial army and the Burgundians!"

"Oh? Why do you say that?" I was surprised by the old coachman's words. After all, we were the army that came to liberate them. No matter how you look at it, we were a righteous army. Although we did some brutal things, it might be because of this problem. So I asked, "Is it because those soldiers burned, killed and looted?"

"It's just a question." The old coachman shook his head and then stretched out his right hand. I clearly saw that there were only three fingers on his hand.

"Where are your index and middle fingers?"

I was very surprised when I saw his hand. I never thought that this old man would have so many unbearable past events. I decided to get to the bottom of it! "This was cut off by the employer decades ago because I didn't take good care of the land." The old coachman pointed to his right index finger with his left hand, then pointed to the broken middle finger and continued, "This one was used by the Burgundians to transport grain. I thought they could help me improve my life, but it was too late, so this one was cut off as well."

As he spoke, he put away his right hand, sighed continuously, and said: "Maybe this is fate. Barbarians are still barbarians. I don't have any hope in anyone now. As long as I can stay alive, I will do whatever they ask me to do. A little suffering is enough. I just hope that I can be liberated by the Lord after I die."

What a desperate guy! As he spoke, his voice began to choke up, and when I looked at his face, tears streamed down his cheeks. Only when you have experienced great pain can you cry just thinking about it.

"What happened?"

I asked!

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"No, no, nothing."

He wanted to avoid me, so he just covered his face with his left hand and waved at me with his right hand.

"What on earth is it?"

I continued to ask questions. Maybe my actions were too cruel at the time, but I felt that this would allow me to better understand the lost frontiers of the empire and what kind of situation the people there lived in.

"No, stop it, stop it!"

I heard the old coachman sobbing, he was really crying, his eyes kept flashing back. The more he did this, the angrier I became, I always felt that I should do something with justice in my heart, instead of just listening to his pain and being indifferent.

"tell me!"

I lowered my voice and asked him in a deep voice: "Romans or Burgundians!"

I'm on guard duty today, so I have enough time to write two chapters. If you readers think there are any areas that need improvement, please leave a comment. Thank you all!

(End of this chapter)