Chapter 636: Battle of Sharon 18

"Lord Luca! Lord Luca!"

At this time, Luga lowered his head and saw the young man. He looked serious and raised his right hand to signal Luga to attract his attention.

"What's wrong, kid?" Luca calmed down and complained with a smile: "You've disrupted my train of thought. Damn it, it's hard for you to imagine what it felt like to have the scene vividly in your mind. It was wonderful."

"Excuse me, Lord Luca, no, Caesar!" The young man was a little at a loss. He kept looking at the parchment he had placed on the ground. God knows how much he wanted to record these deeds.

"Why is what you said different from what I heard?" The young man seriously quoted from the classics: "I heard from many people privately that Attila did not bring so many people, and that the high ground was just given up by Attila on purpose!"

"Hahaha"

Luca's laughter interrupted the young man's leisurely talk. He shook his head and said with a smile: "My child, how much of history is true and how much is false?"

"I do not understand."

"What you know is just a castrated version, just like the waiters who serve princesses in the Eastern countries, but they are incomplete, um, men."

“But it’s on this scale.”

"Don't question me, kid!" Luca continued with a smile, "If the real history was placed in front of you, I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to bear its weight. You have to know that such a huge scale would scare anyone!"

The young man stopped talking. It seemed that he was beginning to believe the words of the person who had experienced it firsthand, regarding the knowledge he had originally received.

"Believe me, child, we paid a heavy price to capture that high ground." Luca couldn't help but sigh when he said this. "Their bodies have not been collected yet, and I'm afraid they have already rotted into piles of bones. Unfortunately, the drunkards drinking in the tavern don't know; the young girls who fell in love watching the actors' performances in the theater don't know; the elder nobles who held a banquet in the garden don't know that everything they enjoy today was preserved with the blood and lives of countless poor people. No one of them remembers them, not a single one, as if this incident had never happened."

When Luca said this, he couldn't help but let out a long sigh. Then, he picked up the wine jug and poured wine into his glass, but saw that the wine jug was still full.

"What?" Luka looked up at the young man in front of him in confusion, "You don't like drinking? This is very precious."

"Oh, yes, yes, sir, I said, it's Caesar." The young man hesitated. He stared at the wine jug in Luca's hand and thought for a moment, then said: "I think it might taste better if I add some water!"

"You are as tasteful as those elder nobles, but a warrior like me is a bit barbaric." Luga smiled and poured half a glass of wine for his lover so that he could taste it in his own way.

"According to what you said, this is why it is becoming increasingly difficult for us to fight against the invasion of the barbarians, and victory is becoming increasingly slim?" the young man asked, picking up the wine glass, taking a sip, and then putting it down.

"No, at least, not all of them." Luca looked up at the wooden roof above his head and continued, "The army is full of Germans, and as you know, the nobles have always looked down on these stinky guys, so you actually despise your soldiers, so naturally you will not get their loyalty."

Loyalty is based on mutual respect and tolerance between both parties, but this balance has been unbalanced in Rome.

"It's hard to imagine how miserable it was at that time. The corpses covered the entire top of the plateau, and the blood was like dye, dyeing the place red, like a sea of ​​blood in hell." Luga fell into memories again.

It was already dusk, the sounds of fighting on the battlefield were getting quieter and quieter, and there were very few fighting scenes. Not only the Huns, but also their vassal armies were retreating one after another.

The battlefield suddenly became unusually quiet. The sounds of killing and shouting disappeared. The only sounds on the battlefield were the wails of the wounded and the cries of the soldiers who had lost their loved ones.

The whole area was dead silent. Luga and a group of generals patrolled the battlefield under the escort of their guards.

It was already dusk and about to enter night. I didn’t know if the sky was a mirror or if God was also amazed by such casualties, but the dusk was actually blood red.

Luga rode on horseback, pointed at the sunset in the distant western sky and said to the people behind him: "We decorated and dyed the sky red with the blood of the Huns as a gift to God. Believe me, tomorrow will definitely be a perfect sunny day, because God can't wait to see us defeat these invading bastards."

Along the way, they could see corpses lying everywhere and soldiers crying while holding corpses. They looked at Luga and his group, stretched out their hands as if begging for something, and kept crying and complaining that the war had made them lose too much.

This is indeed a tragedy, but this tragedy itself is destined and cannot be avoided no matter what.

Faced with the cries of these self-proclaimed pitiful guys, Luga could only lower his head and urge the others present to speed up their pace so as to stay away from the cries, even if the sounds replaced the roars and fighting on the battlefield, like raindrops falling and sprinkling everywhere.

In the area where the Goths were fighting the Huns' vassal army, scattered Gothic soldiers were patrolling the battlefield. They were holding sharpened wooden sticks covered with blood and minced meat. One can imagine how many injured and dead guys were killed by these sticks.

"This is just a small victory, although the death toll is far greater than we expected." Luga seemed to be talking to himself as he moved forward.

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At this time, a scout came from a distance. He came to Luca and after a brief salute, he hurriedly reported: "Caesar, the Huns retreated to the south of the Marne River and regrouped there. Other scattered troops are also moving towards him."

"So, Attila did not give up because of this setback. After all, he is still strong enough to fight against us."

At this time, Theodoric said: "I think we should adjust our tactics."

"What do you think, King of the Goths?" Luca turned around and looked at Theodoric, asking with interest.

"I think we should change the battlefield position. For example, I will be on the right and you will be on the left. Let the Franks and Alans be in the middle, and let Thorismon lead the cavalry to support them in the rear."

"It seems that Your Excellency still thinks highly of Torismon." Luca said jokingly.

"Yes, Caesar, Thorismon is my son and he has always been my pride." Theoderic said, not forgetting to glance at Thorismon beside him, his eyes full of pride.

Luca also turned around and looked at Torismon for a long time, as if he wanted to remember this young face firmly at this moment, at least it was as young as his.

(End of this chapter)