Chapter 619: Battle of Sharon

"Damn it, damn it!"

Frederick, the leader of the Alemanni, walked slowly along with the team, complaining loudly. At this moment, Attila had already disappeared in front of him, and now he finally didn't have to pretend to be servile to Attila anymore.

He finally revealed his already angry and extremely impatient attitude, and he complained loudly that he should not be treated so unfairly. But now, he was arranged by Attila to be at the rear of the army, which meant that he and the Alemanni soldiers under his command would be in extremely dangerous situations at any time.

In any case, he could feel that he had been ignored by Attila.

Then, his worst plan was to hope to end the battle quickly, regardless of victory or defeat. It seemed that continuing to move south was the only destination for their tribe, if Attila had the ability to continue attacking southward.

It was getting late, but Attila's order was to march all night without rest, which made the soldiers complain bitterly, but they had no choice but to proceed.

"My king, my king!"

When Frederick was thinking hard, he heard several urgent calls from behind. Frederick turned around quickly and saw the messenger riding hurriedly towards him.

He landed in a hurry, and because of his unstable center of gravity, he stumbled and almost fell headfirst at Frederick's feet.

"Oh, my God, get up quickly." Frederick's tone was slightly reproachful. He then said to the messenger: "Tell me, what other terrible news has made you so panicked? This is not the style of a warrior."

"My king! My king!" the messenger continued. "The Romans are coming from behind!"

"Damn it!" Frederick stamped his feet in anger and asked, "How many of them are there?"

"It was too dark to tell how many there were, but judging by the number of torches, they had several thousand men."

"Damn Romans!"

Frederick cursed non-stop, and he was so angry that the hilt of the iron sword at his waist was shaking.

"What should I do? What should I do?"

Frederick kept asking himself this question in his heart. He racked his brains and thought hard. He had to come up with a solution now.

"Where are they now?" Frederick asked hotly.

"They're still some distance away from us, but they're getting closer. It's not hard to tell they must be riding war horses or something."

"My king, the number of Romans pursuing us is not large. Judging from their speed, their follow-up troops must not be as fast. Now they have come from afar, we can defeat them as long as we counterattack!" At this time, an old veteran who looked quite old and experienced suggested to Frederick.

"But our soldiers are also very tired, my friend!" Faced with the old general's proposal, Frederick did not take it seriously. "Take me for example, my legs are sore after walking so much. Look at our warriors, they are all out of breath, not to mention any counterattack. Now, ignore them and keep moving forward!"

Frederick had no idea why he said such a thing. Perhaps he simply didn't like his subordinates giving him some strategic suggestions, even though he often suffered losses because of his own stubbornness.

Fortunately, he was lucky. After all, his stupidity did not cause him to make a big mistake, so he took it for granted that no matter what choice he made, the ending would not be too bad.

"I don't want to fall behind and save my energy to catch up. I won't allow my soldiers to stop unless it is absolutely necessary."

At this moment, a large number of cavalry appeared at the rear of Frederick's army. They shouted strangely, waving their scimitars and hammers, and under the protection of the night, they rode their horses into the marching team of the Alemanni, which was illuminated by torches.

Because the army was so large, the Alemanni moved slowly, and their followers were filled with the old, the weak, the sick and the disabled, so they were soon torn apart by the roaring cavalry, and a large number of Alemanni who had no ability to resist became the dead under the knives of these unknown cavalry.

Diego was one of the commanders of the pursuing cavalry. He followed Andrew to the woods not far away. Through the dim firelight, he watched the cavalry moving back and forth not far away, and hacked to death those who tried to escape in the darkness outside the firelight.

"Sir Andrew, I don't understand." Diego pointed at the barbarians who were easily defeated without much effort and asked Andrew in confusion: "We really shouldn't waste time on these guys. We should go after their main force directly."

"Caesar's order to us is to kill as many of their troops as possible and slow down their advance." Andrew said slowly, "We just need to hold on to their troops and keep harassing and killing them to drive our enemies crazy. This is enough for Caesar."

Since this was Caesar's intention, Diego didn't know how to refute it for a moment, although he was not interested in slaughtering these tired old, weak and sick people.

"My king, my king!"

Another cavalryman with a messenger came hurriedly on horseback. Frederick turned around impatiently and asked in great dissatisfaction: "Okay, okay, what's the matter? Tell me, what's the matter?"

"Our follow-up troops were attacked by the Romans, and they slaughtered our soldiers!"

Hearing this news, everyone present couldn't help but gasp. Everyone, yes, everyone was looking at Frederick to see when he could come up with a solution that would convince everyone.

"Enough! Enough! Damn it, damn it!"

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Frederick was furious. He stamped his feet wildly, cursed loudly, and used all kinds of vicious words to insult the Romans, including Attila.

"My king, what should we do?" the officers asked.

"What else can we do, damn bastards!" Frederick cursed, "Since the Romans insist on fighting us, then we will satisfy them and give them a heavy blow on their way forward and completely defeat them!"

Having said this, Frederick roared, calling on the most elite soldiers in the tribe to follow closely behind him and head towards the woods not far away.

"Don't stop, keep going! Keep going!"

Andrew was still leading the cavalry in the pursuit, but after defeating three groups of barbarians in succession, he no longer saw any trace of the barbarians. He lit a torch and searched for footprints on the ground.

"It seems that the barbarians have realized that we are chasing them, so they have sped up." Andrew stared at the fire on the road, which was gradually disappearing into the darkness.

"Should we continue to move forward?" Diego asked uneasily, "After all, we are getting further and further away from the follow-up line."

"Keep going!" Andrew brushed the dust off his hands and stood up.

"roar!"

Suddenly, everyone heard a roar. They looked up and saw an axe flying in the darkness and directly piercing the neck of the soldier holding the torch.

"Defend! Defend!" Andrew shouted behind him, then drew out the iron sword and held it tightly in his hand, staring at the darkness in front of him.

(End of this chapter)