End of Chapter 202

"Yes, we are all tired, it's time to rest." Theodosius II sighed and looked at Yazdegerd at a distance of nearly 100 meters. At this moment, the emperors of the two empires finally reached a common understanding with each other.

The war, just like that, ended.

A huge war was started because of a very rude request, and a war was stopped because of a very simple request.

The wasteland was scorching hot, blood was evaporating, and the air was filled with a strange smell of blood and burnt odor. The army was unusually quiet, and only the wailing of the seriously injured soldiers who were still alive could be heard. The cries touched the hearts of every soldier who survived. If these people could not be treated, they would really join the pile of corpses and become one of them.

"Go, bring our people back."

Theodosius II was afraid that he could not bear to see such a cruel scene, so he quickly turned his head away, closed his eyes and tried not to look at the battlefield which was like a living hell.

"Why, why don't you take action?"

Arminius didn't know where he got his momentum from. He relied on his position beside Augustus. He was the closest person to Augustus. Even those who didn't know his official title could roughly understand his current status. Of course, they obeyed his scolding. He gave orders in a bad mood. The exhausted soldiers were naturally angry but dared not speak. They could only obey Arminius's words, put down their weapons, and sent out 500 people at a time. They carried the wounded soldiers who were not dead on the battlefield with bare hands. No matter how cruel Izdaius was, he was also kind-hearted. He gritted his teeth. Such heavy casualties, especially for his proud cavalry, were naturally unacceptable for a while.

He was still unwilling, but the cruel reality forced him to succumb. "Forget it, forget it!" Yizgered shook his head again and again, and looked reluctantly at Edessa not far away. This huge city that accommodated hundreds of thousands of people finally shut him out. The distance was so close, but it seemed so far away to him. He imagined that his ancestors' great cause of humiliating Augustus of Rome and expanding the territory had completely gone to waste. At this moment, his heart was like an overturned kitchen counter, with mixed feelings.

"Let's go home. We have more important things to do." Yisi'e looked down at the army formation in front of him. They were obviously much fewer in number. Many ranks didn't even have enough people. Perhaps Yisi'e had never encountered such a setback since he was a child.

"How many casualties have we suffered?" Yisi'ai asked in a low voice the surviving officer who had just left the battlefield and was counting the number of people behind him.

"Four thousand dead, six thousand wounded and injured, and only five thousand soldiers are left who can fight. There are also one thousand cavalrymen without horses. However, there are still more than one hundred and seventy Holy Cavalrymen left. Now there are only three thousand wounded soldiers who can fight, and the rest..." The officer reported quickly, his tone became heavier, and his voice became smaller and smaller. Later, Yisai could hardly hear the voice of the reporting officer, but he did not lose his temper with him. It was as if after this war, he felt that he would not even get angry anymore. This might be the so-called maturity.

"Go home, go home!"

He abandoned his carriage, thinking that a king who had suffered such a defeat was not qualified to ride back. Similarly, for Theodosius II, this was a tragic defeat. He had a superior force, but it was so difficult to fight against Izdegerd. This was not a victory, but more like a miserable defeat.

Yazdegerd withdrew his troops and returned to his hometown of Ctesiphon with more than 6,000 wounded soldiers. As the victor who repelled the Sassanid Persian enemy that invaded Edessa, Theodosius II also entered Edessa with the First Constantine Legion, which was almost the same as the defeated army. He was treated like a victor, but of course, he was not happy either. He was just forcing a smile to the nobles who came forward to bless him. His legion was so badly hit that even on every day he celebrated, dozens or hundreds of people died of injuries. The most important thing was that the minor injuries that were usually not painful took the lives of most people. As for Marcus, he felt guilty from the bottom of his heart. This was the only guard he trusted, and of course his best friend.

Orius Luca was also one of the injured, with burns on his neck. The military doctors they invited had very primitive methods of treatment. There were many good medical doctors, but in the theocracy, they were all heresy and were to be eradicated. So the most common people Luca saw every day were priests who kept mumbling to themselves, because they firmly believed that God could save these loyal guards who defended the kingdom of God.

But that was not the case. What Luca saw was that the priests were reciting useless scriptures, but they turned a deaf ear to the wailing of the wounded. They closed their eyes and did not see the tightly wrapped patients one after another whose wounds fester in the hot environment and then died of infection. The air was filled with a foul smell, the smell of rotting wounds. Even so, the doctors who came only came to change the gauze and then abandoned the man in the crowded wounded area to let him fend for himself. The result was predictable. The man died in this wounded camp after only a few days, and the doctor who came to collect the body just casually said that God was calling him to comfort the others around him.

Every day, Lujia could see the doctors in charge of cleaning up the corpses pushing cartloads of bodies out of the wounded camp. The dead looked more horrible than the others. Some even had their eyes wide open and their mouths wide open, walking in fear and without dignity! Lujia was thankful that he woke up early. Otherwise, if he was in a coma, the doctor who didn't know medicine would have wrapped him up tightly. If he got infected and had a fever, he would never have woken up.

Whenever he saw the dead being pushed out and burned, Luca felt that it was also his responsibility. Although he did not know medicine, he still had some knowledge of trauma treatment. This little medical knowledge was enough to save the lives of most of them.

But he didn't dare, because Dr. Bella was such a vivid example in front of him. If he rushed into the tent and told everyone not to believe the priest, according to his method, not to mention whether the priest would be angry and persecute him, the wounded soldiers would think he was a lunatic and a heretic. In other words, if he treated the wounded in private, with his mediocre medical skills, if he killed them, the truth would naturally come out. If the matter was exposed, he would naturally be punished for heresy and murder, which was obviously asking for trouble.

So he only used those medical skills on himself. When the doctor wanted to bandage him, he firmly resisted, using the excuse that this would hinder God's blessing on him. The doctor was skeptical, but in the end he did not object to his doing so. Because he was Augustus's close bodyguard, his status was naturally not comparable to those cannon fodders. Of course, he had his own tent, which served as a good isolation from the bacteria from the outside world.

A week later, Andrew came to see him. By this time, Luca's injuries had almost recovered. As the only close guard of Theodosius II, Andrew was busy running around. The first time he saw Luca, he felt that Andrew had lost a lot of weight and his face was full of fatigue.

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(End of this chapter)