Chapter 559 Torture

The flames did not slow down due to their efforts, but became more rampant. There was no water, or rather, they no longer dared to use water.

Poor Greeks, they could only watch the flames devour their houses. Perhaps the last drop of water was the tears that kept flowing from their eyes.

Thick smoke billowed up to hundreds of meters above the head. The smoke was like a pair of hands, covering God's eyes, making God unable to see or hear the prayers of Dyrrhachium below.

Looking at the smoke rising from a city, no one could fail to see that the Greeks were helpless. It was a real treat, like a bloody battle on the Aegean Sea, where we overturned the enemy's warships and could only watch them struggling helplessly on the water.

Although they are all watching the fire, the people inside are extremely anxious, while those outside are relaxed and at ease.

"They were out of water, or they realized they were out of water too late while they were fighting the fire."

"Who would have noticed this? As soon as they opened their eyes, they had to face the enemy attacking the city. They didn't realize it until the fire was imminent."

"We took advantage of the fire and made them unknowingly waste all the water they depended on for survival."

"So, Luka, you led them to do something that would make them regret for the rest of their lives."

"People can't survive for more than a week without water, so it's only a matter of time before they surrender, but that's not the most troublesome problem."

"I guess their biggest headache right now is this uncontrollable fire!"

"The heat from the flames will evaporate the water in their bodies, even if they do nothing. In other words, if they take action, even if it's just setting up a fire isolation zone and trying their best to contain the momentum of the fire, they will become thirsty. In short, without water, no matter how strong they are, it will be useless, even though they are the soldiers I brought out."

"No one with a strong will can endure such torture."

"So, let them suffer, this is what they deserve." Luga's eyes were as cold as ice. There was probably no reason for Luga to show mercy to the enemies defending the city.

The strenuous physical labor makes it difficult for many people to endure such pain. It is hard to imagine that a person works to exhaustion in a scorching fire and the reward he gets is just a small cup of water that is not even enough to rinse his mouth.

The helpless women and elderly people either kneeled in the church to pray, or knelt in front of the dry water outlet and prayed over and over again, hoping that God would show mercy to them.

However, the only thing that could flow out of the canal was mud. Those who were so thirsty that their lips were cracked had to scoop up handfuls of mud to try to absorb the water in it. However, no matter how hard they tried, it was still in vain. Doing so would only cause them to be infected with severe dysentery, and dehydration would only accelerate their death.

"Is there no water available somewhere else?" Marcian was anxious, but he could do nothing. He was not God, and he could not call the wind and rain, and he could not solve the people's suffering at all.

"Let's call it a day for today."

Looking at the billowing smoke, Luga even felt a little thirsty. He pursed his lips, turned and left.

On the second day, early in the morning, a chariot came out from the camp of Luga outside the city of Dyrrachium. Standing on the chariot was a man wearing a silver helmet, white linen armor decorated with gold thread, and a red toga.

This was a messenger, who, led by a coachman, came to a distance of more than 150 meters from Dyrrachium. The messenger was holding a parchment tied with a purple ribbon.

"This is a letter from Augustus, the former emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire, to Flavius ​​Luca, the captain of the Western Roman Empire. This is Augustus's will and represents his will!"

At this time, the flames of Dyrrachium had burned all night, and most of the houses in the city had already collapsed. I'm afraid it would be hard to sleep with the flames closed and without water in such a warm climate.

No matter how weak they were, the soldiers on the walls of Dyrrachium endured the torture of thirst and slowly walked to the wall. They tried their best to stick their heads out and look at the chariot below the city.

The messenger on the chariot was a loud-mouthed man carefully selected by Luca. He spread out the parchment in his hand and looked at the group of Greeks in front of him.

The messenger read aloud and slowly the parchment in his hand, and held up the laurel wreath of Licinia Augusta, the current ruler of the Western Roman Empire, to indicate the authenticity of the Greek edict.

"Don't believe them! Don't believe them!"

Faced with the soldiers' questioning gazes, Marcian was a little panicked. He rushed to the city wall "regardless of his own life" and pulled the eager soldiers one by one.

Marcian knew that these were Luca's old subordinates, even though Luca had only led them for a few short months. No matter how they viewed Luca, whether they loved him or hated him, Marcian felt like he was facing a great enemy when he heard the messenger reading Theodosius' edict. No matter what, his position as Augustus was always so improper that no explanation was worth it.

Now Flavius ​​Luca has taken out the edict, and his status as Theodosius's adopted son means that Luca is the true heir, and it always sounds so legitimate for the heir to take back the throne.

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"Don't believe them! Don't believe them!"

Marcian clearly felt that there had been a subtle change in the soldiers' attitude towards him, which was what he least wanted to see. Who could tell whether the "bewitched" soldiers would mutiny?

"Water, food, life! Everything you need to survive will be provided to you after you lay down your weapons!" the messenger continued. This was undoubtedly a huge temptation for the soldiers who had been thirsty all day.

At this time, only Luga was seen leading the army. Behind him were dozens of catapults, and the machine masters were loading stone eggs.

In front of Luca, the soldiers placed the freshly drawn water in front of the Dyrrachium defenders. Luca held a wooden bowl, filled it with water from the bucket in front of him, tilted his head back and drank it down with gulps.

This seemingly ordinary action made the defenders of Dyrrachium open their eyes wide. Looking at the buckets of water, they couldn't help but pursed their lips, their eyes revealing longing.

Luca held the captain's staff in his hand, pointed it at Dyrrachium, and said loudly: "Join me, Thracian Field Army. Don't forget that it was me who was ordered to save the day in times of crisis. I am the son of Theodosius and the successor of Augustus of Rome. Submit to me and submit to the new Augustus, otherwise, I will kill you without mercy!"

Thirst and doubt always puzzled the soldiers standing on the city wall. They cast questioning eyes at Marcian and no longer had any loyalty.

Marcian realized that he could not stay here any longer. While symbolically ordering the soldiers to stay at their posts, he began to plan his escape.

(End of this chapter)