Chapter 37: End of the Battle

"Fuck!"

Andrew could no longer remain calm. The fire in the whole city forced the remaining Burgundians to leave their houses and fight on the wide streets and crossroads. They wanted to use this not-so-wide area to fight to the death with the Roman infantry. Anyway, the Romans had suffered heavy casualties during the siege and their morale was shaken. However, they did not expect that the Romans paid such a painful price to pave the way for the appearance of an even crazier character, the Huns.

The shield wall formed by the Burgundians was torn apart. I saw a child of only fifteen or sixteen years old, holding a spear and a shield, at a loss next to the black torrent of Hun cavalry. I think his comrades in the same phalanx were all dead or wounded. He looked very scared and kept retreating until he was blocked by the burning house behind him.

Such an obvious target would naturally be discovered by the Huns who were as vicious as wolves. Soon, a tall horse slowly walked out of the torrent. The rider on the horse, fully armored, held a long lance in his right hand and the reins in his left hand. He clamped his legs tightly around the horse's belly and rode slowly towards the young man with a grim smile on his face.

The boy was terrified. He held the shield and spear tightly in his hands and trembled. He wanted to retreat, but there was a sea of ​​fire behind him. He had no way to retreat. The Hun stepped forward, grabbed the lance with his left hand, and thrust the lance forward. The Burgundian boy knew that he could not escape. He raised his spear high and strode forward to meet the Hun. The Hun kicked the horse's belly hard and rushed towards the Burgundian boy. The Burgundian boy thrust his spear forward and shouted as he rushed towards the Hun. This was undoubtedly a way to seek death, but he decided to do it anyway. This might be the last bit of dignity of a soldier before death.

In just a few seconds, the two sides had already decided the winner. The Huns were indeed a nation on horseback and excellent cavalrymen. The young Burgundian boy was simply no match for them. There was no new or old hatred in this round, only a life-and-death struggle.

"laugh!"

The Hun cavalry held the lance in both hands, and the tip of the lance pierced through the gap in the oval shield in front of the Burgundy boy and suddenly pierced the boy's chest. The boy screamed and had no chance to fight back, and was suddenly lifted into the air by the Hun. The Hun cavalry had no mercy at all, and with a wicked grin, he threw the boy who was lifted into the air and the lance into the burning house, leaving the flames to devour the poor Burgundy boy.

The Hun cavalryman looked back at us. It was obvious that he recognized our clothes and the Roman flag, otherwise we would have been killed. He said nothing, drew the scimitar from his waist, and rode his horse back to join the siege.

"Who are they?"

Andrew asked me with lingering fear as he looked at the cavalryman's receding back.

"The Huns," I answered. "They were sent by Aetius."

"Oh my god, that's fucking vicious."

Andrew finally calmed down. I think he was deeply shocked by the scene before him.

Not only this place, but also all the obstacles set up by the Burgundians on all the roads leading to the Governor's Palace in the city center were smashed by the Hun cavalry, and the surviving Burgundians surrendered in front of the Governor's Palace. But the Huns did not give up, massacre and plunder were their strengths. Here, Ludinan fell into another bottomless darkness just after being recaptured by the Romans.

A nation that was ten times more brutal than the Burgundians entered the city. The liberated Romans had no time to sing praises, because the Huns' actions made them feel that such a life would be worse than returning to the days when they were occupied by the Burgundians. The Huns plundered, regardless of whether they were Romans or barbarians. They only had eyes for gold, silver, jewelry, and beautiful women. They were all their targets. There were carriages specially prepared for the Huns outside the city. Aetius even sent Roman soldiers to help them transport the jewelry and women. It was not until nightfall that the Huns stopped and withdrew. Looking at their backs as they left, a large group of us soldiers could only stand there, not knowing what to say.

"it's over!"

The old warlord Medius sighed, turned around and looked at us with a wry smile. Andrew and I were now at the front of the team. Andrew was still holding the legion flag tightly as before, because it was almost snatched away by the greedy Huns.

"How many of us are left?"

The old governor turned his head and asked the last cavalryman who was left with him.

"Sir, excluding the seriously injured, we have less than a hundred people left." The accompanying cavalry replied in a low voice.

"Ha, less than a hundred. Three days ago there were a thousand heads!"

The old commander sniffed and turned to look at the remaining us, "Sir! They have taken away all our valuables. Please judge for us!"

Such a hoarse voice, if it's not as I expected, it's a phlegm throat! Oh, this damn guy, he was the one who shouted to run away when the city was attacked, and now he is the one complaining.

"How many lives does this kid have?"

I whispered this, but Andrew beside me turned a deaf ear to me and ignored me. He just lowered his head and thought about something.

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We stood here for about half an hour, and then we saw a scout on horseback coming from a distance. The scout led us to a place in the city that was strictly speaking a relic of a fire. There were some wood and cloth for us to set up tents, as well as half a cart of bread and water. They didn't care whether we had enough. After leading us to the place, the scout turned around and left, asking us to wait.

After a whole day of fighting, the survivors could no longer be called outstanding. It could only be said that God could give enough mercy to ensure that everyone survived. Everyone's pupils shrank to a point. Everyone sat in a circle. The old warlord found a fire from somewhere and used the wood used to build a tent to light a bonfire. Everyone sat on the ground facing the bonfire. The bread on the car was indeed untouched. No one had an appetite to eat. Except for drinking a sip of water, everyone sat together and looked around. Strangers who had only been together for three days did not say a word. I was the same. I forgot what happened at the time. I just felt that my mind was in a mess. The whole day was too muddled. I didn't even remember what I did. Andrew, the veteran who had experienced hundreds of battles, was silent. Maybe he had just broken free from the frenzy of the day. Now his body was weak after being pulled out. He stretched his legs and sat on the ground, holding the Gemina flag, carefully wiping the blood stains on the golden spear tip, as if the blood of the barbarians was an insult to the flag.

Fatigue soon spread to everyone. Similarly, my eyelids became heavier and heavier. As the night deepened, the scenery in front of me became more and more blurred. I fell to the ground and soon knew nothing.

(End of this chapter)