Chapter 480 Massacre

Perhaps the flames were so intense that even God could not bear such devastation, so he could not help crying and sent down a torrential rain to extinguish the flames blazing in the streets.

Attila was very smart, he clearly realized that this heavy rain was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him, just when he was worried about the billowing smoke rising over the city of Thessalonica, the Hun army once again walked into the wet streets of Thessalonica in the heavy rain.

The heavy rain could put out the flames and dispel the stench of burning, but it could not wash away the corpses on the ground. In front of the pile of corpses, Attila looked solemn. He let the raindrops falling from the sky rudely hit his face and wet the precious silk on his body without being moved.

He just turned over and got off the horse, stepped forward and stepped on the broken bones on the ground, making a "crackling" sound.

"Attila!"

Just as Attila was about to take another step forward, the officers behind him stopped him. They needed to protect Attila's safety, so they would not allow Attila to take another step forward towards this land of death.

Attila was not impressed by his subordinates' good intentions. He gritted his teeth, looked down, then bent over to pick up a sharp piece of pottery that was burned black by the flames, and then looked up at the roofs on both sides of the street. The fire had turned the road and the walls of the houses on both sides into an ugly black color.

"Attila, no matter what so-called gods or Romans did this, this place is too dangerous!" The officer was still trying to dissuade Attila from going forward, but Attila was silent for a moment on the corpses on the ground, and finally pushed away the hand of the noble officer who was blocking his way. He hooked his wet cloak silk with his left hand and held the ivory hilt tightly with his right hand. He pursed his lips, as if he had made a great decision with great effort, and finally took a step forward.

Seeing their capital on the road, the noble Hun officers behind them no longer cared whether it was dangerous or not. They stood on tiptoe, fearing that the filth on the ground would dirty their leather boots. Attila, officers, and soldiers all stepped on the corpses.

The mist and rain were hazy. The fine smoke and heavy rain made the scene in front of my eyes seem covered with a layer of gauze. It was vague and I couldn't describe what it felt like. It was really like hell, cold, damp and unknown. Every step made me tremble.

Attila walked forward step by step under unknown pressure, and soon he reached the middle of the road. It was even more difficult to walk. The stone slab under his feet was sticky and he didn't know what it was. The sticky mucus and the piles of black bones were like a big pot that was burned dry and full of residue. Mixed with the cold rain water, it was like a stinky fish pond, wet and sticky, and there was a stench in it.

“Wow…”

The soldiers and officers behind him who couldn't bear the miserable situation stopped and bent over to vomit. Attila's stomach also began to churn, and the irresistible force made him retch repeatedly. But he still endured it and continued to move forward until the rain stopped at this moment.

Before my eyes was a ruin that had been burned so badly that its original shape could no longer be seen. It was filled with wood residue and burnt stones. There was no one there. It must be that all the Romans had left.

"They committed such a crime, yet they were able to leave with a clear conscience!" Attila thought to himself, gritting his teeth. His steps became heavier unconsciously, and he quickened his pace. He kept muttering, "Romans, where are the Romans!"

"Follow me! Follow me!" The soldiers trotted all the way just to follow Attila closely. They passed through the ruins, and the road under their feet was washed by rain and looked like it had just been polished and paved. Attila continued to move forward, the only difference was that his feet finally became solid, and he left a series of black footprints on the gray stone slabs.

In front of the council hall at the end of the road, there were many Roman soldiers standing there, standing on both sides of the steps under the council hall, with a pile of weapons like a hill in the middle, which meant that they had laid down their weapons and surrendered to the upcoming Hun army, especially Attila.

Areobinders, the leader of the Roman army, stood at the front of the army and waited quietly, his ten fingers twisted together so hard that his knuckles were cracking. He kept repeating in his mouth, as if praying to God, hoping that God could open Attila's heart and let him choose to forgive. It was just unknown whether Attila would buy it, after all, this damn Luca had killed many of his people.

A moment later, before he could come up with a reasonable explanation, Attila led his army to the road that Luga had blocked. Seeing the sudden appearance of the Hun army, Areobinders was immediately shocked. This tension almost suffocated him. He stared at Attila getting closer and closer with wide eyes, and was stunned for a full minute before he realized that he was here to surrender.

"Lord Attila! Respected King Attila of the Hungary!"

Areobinders did not dare to delay, he quickened his pace to meet him. It was hard to imagine that with his bloated body wrapped in a robe and toga, he could still walk so fast.

Areobinders flashed in front of Attila, which did surprise Attila a little, but when he saw that he was just an unarmed, bloated old man, his face darkened again, as if he was inhuman.

"Well, I'm very sorry for the loss you have suffered, Lord Attila! The great Hungarian King!" Areobinders' voice trembled as he racked his brains to think of all the words that could praise Attila to try to please the little man.

But Attila didn't buy it. He just stared at the bloated fat man. It is said that flattery requires harmony. No matter what you say, you should get a nod of agreement or a smile from the person being flattered. However, Attila, who had killed many of his men, was in no mood to joke with Areopindes. Such a cold silence soon made Areopindes stop his flattery and wait quietly for Attila's decision.

"Here!" Attila held up the blackened pottery fragment to Areobinders and asked, "Who did this?"

"Luca, Flavius ​​Luca." Areobinders did not dare to hide anything, he confessed everything, "Flavius ​​Luca is the adopted son of Theodosius. It was he who came up with this conspiracy that dealt such a heavy blow to you, the king. Seeing your soldiers struggling in the flames, I could not bear it, so I tried my best to stop Flavius ​​Luca and surrendered to you, the king!"

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"Flavius ​​Luca!" Attila repeated the name of Luca. This man had caused him great pain. He first sent people to assassinate him and then slaughtered his soldiers with fire. This was the most insulting thing he had ever suffered since he became the King of the Huns. This name would naturally be deeply imprinted in his mind and he would never forget it, unless there was one thing, that is, he killed this person who opposed him with his own hands! "Where is he? Where is he? I can't see him!" Attila then asked Areobinders.

"He...he..." Areobinders hesitated for a moment, and finally said, "He ran away, like a poor rat, ran away!"

Just as Areopindes finished speaking, Attila suddenly pulled out the iron sword and stabbed it into Areopindes' abdomen. Areopindes was stunned. He felt his life slipping away rapidly. The last thing he saw was the ivory hilt stained with his blood and Attila's face, which was as cold as a sculpture.

"If he is not here, Roman, you will pay his debt for him!" Attila's words were soft but extremely cold.

(End of this chapter)