Chapter 28 March

With such a hasty division, Andrew and I were assigned to the first formation. I don't know whether I should be happy or sad, blaming others or something. Anyway, Andrew was very unhappy because he could not prove himself again. He was holding the flag of the Gemina Legion, but now even he himself did not believe it was true.

Holding the flag drooping helplessly in front of him, I think Andrew must have mixed feelings at this moment. How can he prove himself? I'm afraid the officers and soldiers at the bottom are powerless.

I estimated that there were more than a thousand mercenaries here. Under the rough division of the soldiers, we quickly gathered into temporary square formations. The next step was to distribute weapons and equipment. I saw several large carriages appeared behind us, with the doors open. The soldiers inside casually threw the iron swords and shields in the carriages to the ground.

"Grab it!"

The eyes of those unarmed mercenaries lit up when they saw the weapons. They rushed forward like wolves, fighting desperately for the equipment, which was obviously abundant but always felt not enough.

"Hey, sir!" A man waved his big round shield at the soldiers who were throwing weapons down from the car and complained: "Why are there so many weapons? Where are the armors?"

"What armor?"

The soldier on the carriage snorted, "I'm sorry, we are only responsible for your weapons. We will give you 75 denarii, right? Try to use those to see if you can buy better armor! Besides, you are not regular soldiers of the empire, why do you need armor!"

Ha, the face of the mercenary who asked the question turned blue and purple. He saw that the people around him were only concerned with picking up their weapons and did not respond to his opinion at all. So he had to accept the loss and dejectedly picked up the equipment he had snatched and left the crowd.

"Luka, here."

While I was watching the show, Andrew suddenly squeezed out from the crowd in front of me, and he had a lot of good weapons in his hands. He handed me a large round shield and an iron sword.

"Look, this is the Spada Iron Sword, the standard equipment of the Imperial Legion." Andrew said proudly, "I specially found a few sharp ones. The weapons here have been stored for a long time. Look at the rust on them!"

"Andrew, but we already have a sword, there is no need to take such a defective one."

"Luga, one more weapon means one more chance of survival, just take it!"

Following Andrew's advice, I pinned the sword on my right side.

"All right, you unruly barbarians, come back and line up!"

The Governor Martinius, who was dressed in gorgeous clothes, stepped down from the podium, and was replaced by an old officer who was old but full of energy. With gray hair and a thin body, he wore a brass muscle breastplate without any other decorations, an iron horned helmet on his head, and a red cloak, indicating that this old soldier was not ordinary. In the same situation, the old man's clothes supported his pride. He raised his head to us, and with the horned helmet, he looked like a proud rooster.

No one knew where this holy man came from, but his roar still frightened quite a few people. The "barbarians" in the audience stared at the old man with wide eyes, without saying a word, quietly waiting for his next speech.

"Now, everyone will get 75 denarii, and every week thereafter, you will get 25 denarii in salary. Once you get it, let's go!"

This was the scene that everyone was looking forward to. Soon, soldiers carrying huge wooden boxes came out and handed bags of Denarius to each of our mercenaries. The strong men who took the money weighed the heavy bags of money and all showed joyful expressions.

“This salary is too high.”

Andrew held the money bag and said with some dissatisfaction: "We regular soldiers don't have such generous treatment, but mercenaries can make so much money. Luca, I promise that after being mercenaries for a year, both of us can buy a noble title!"

"A big reward will always bring a brave man."

I said this casually without carefully counting the denarius in the purse. I just put it on the belt around my waist, because there was no need to spend it. I couldn't spend it on the battlefield, and the silver coins that seemed so valuable at ordinary times might become a burden to me.

"Praise Rome! Praise Your Majesty!"

These mercenaries who had received the money cheered loudly. Of course, their praise and cheers were all based on the bag full of denarius.

Facing the cheers and applause of thousands of "barbarians" below the stage, the old man on the stage did not show any joy or other expressions. He had a cold face. I even wondered if he had facial paralysis or had become numb after experiencing too many life and death separations.

"Let's go!"

The old man waved his hand, and the buglers in the audience immediately blew the bugle. Along with the sound of the bugle, the soldiers in leather armor blew the whistles hanging on their chests, leading a temporary phalanx and slowly walking towards the city gate.

Along the way, the crowds of onlookers filled the streets on both sides. They watched us pass by expressionlessly, only the children who yearned for military life smiled and cheered as we ran along the street, or said they disliked that most of us did not have the handsome armor they imagined, but some common coarse cloth clothes, and some people were even naked. What kind of mighty army was this? Andrew was the one who attracted attention. The children's admiration was mainly focused on his bright and beautiful flag. This flag also received admiration from many passers-by, but their topic was focused on the pure gold spearhead and the six silver discs. This was a real legion flag, but with the demise of the Gemina Legion, it became a real imitation.

We walked out of the city gate and walked along the wide road. Along the way, there were trumpet players holding large French horns, following us and blowing very rhythmic trumpets. I looked around and only Andrew and I knew that this was a standard pace, but looking at those casual people, they were only concerned with enjoying the scenery along the way and turned a deaf ear to the standard pace trumpets. This seemed not to be a march, but a large-scale exciting execution.

"Keep in line! Since you have received commissions from the Empire, you are soldiers of the Empire! Now, act like soldiers!"

I turned around and saw a cavalryman riding a colorful warhorse running back and forth around the team, reminding each square to keep its own formation intact. Of course, their role is not that simple, the spears in their hands are prepared for those guys who want to run away after taking the money!

"Hey! You two."

The latest novel is published first on Liu9shuba!

As we were walking forward, I heard a call from the side. I turned around and saw a naked strong man behind me on the left, grinning at me and Andrew. His greasy hair, which had not been washed for years, was like two pieces of rags draped on both sides of his head. His sponge-like nose was disgusting. What was even more special was that when he smiled, his yellow teeth were exposed due to worms. Oh, my God, how can there be people like this in this world! "Where did you get this iron sheet?"

The sturdy man started talking, and his voice sounded like a person who had a mouthful of thick phlegm that he couldn't spit out. I didn't dare to look back, for fear that he would spit on my face while talking.

"Scavengers,"

I turned my head back and said perfunctorily, "It's just outside the city of Narpan, go up along the river. There are enough armors on the corpses there to equip all of us."

"Ha, so you're a rag picker. I was wondering why you're dressed so neatly! I thought you were the one spying on us in the army! Take me to see it someday. I wonder what kind of treasures you rag pickers have found. Oh, look at the dead air you're wearing. I can't even speak clearly because of it."

"Hahaha"

The spit throat not only had an unpleasant voice, but also spoke in a disgusting way. I simply ignored his unfunny sarcasm. But Andrew, who was standing next to me, lowered his head, with his right hand tightly pressed on the hilt of his sword. I patted him, because I was afraid that if the spit throat mentioned the military flag, I thought Andrew would start a killing spree.

"Hey, you slovenly savage, can't you keep your mouth shut while you walk?"

"Oh, yes sir."

Thankfully, the patrolling cavalryman was attracted by the laughter and cursed the spit throat, forcing him to shut his stinky mouth. The guy seemed to stick out his tongue without any concern, and the lesson did quiet him down.

I'm getting on a plane today and I'm writing this chapter before leaving.

(End of this chapter)