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Travis Starnes
Travis Starnes

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The Sword of Jupiter (Imperium #1) - Chapter 9

 

“Why are you fighting me?” Ky asked the AI as he walked back to the Roman lines.

“Query not understood. Please restate.

“I  have to work harder to get my muscles to do what I need them to do. I  didn’t notice it before, but you are giving small countermanding  decisions.”

“No unauthorized motor function commands have been  issued by this unit, Commander. Suggest a diagnostic system scan at the  earliest convenience.”

Ky was certain any diagnostics scan  would end up the same. If the AI couldn’t detect what it was doing,  there seemed little chance that an internal diagnostics would come up  with anything. A full medscan  would have probably found the problem, but Ky already had a good guess  what they’d find. He’d been warned the AI was on the way to  self-awareness and who knew what affect the bridge transition had on it.

“Begin a log of all actions, commands, and processes starting now.”

“Logging process begun, Commander.”

Ky  crossed over the top of the rise south of Devnum, looking down on the  assembling Roman forces. The Roman front line was just over a mile away,  and Ky wanted to refrain from using any abilities that might set off  the Romans more than he’d already shown, so he was happy to see someone  had sent forward a rider with a spare horse to bring him back to the  assembling soldiers.

“How are we looking, Legate?” Ky said as he rode up to Aelius and his aides.

“The  Ninth has formed up and we’ve got the Levy collected if a little  disorganized. Lartius has assigned some of his men to ride behind them  and push stragglers forward. We should be ready to move by the eighth  hour. I’ve dispatched our scouts to push away any Carthaginian scouts as  best we can. If we can keep them past the tree line they shouldn’t be  able to give away our position.”

Aelius paused for a moment before  continuing, casting a worried glance at Ky, “I know you said you would  clear out the Carthaginians, but I felt it would be … ahh … prudent to  check again.”

“Don’t worry, Legate, I won’t take good generalship  as an insult. I’d want to double-check if I was in your position. I can,  however, promise that all of the Carthaginian scouts have been taken care of.”

“Of course, Dominous. Thank you for understanding my presumption.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, let’s get them on the move.”

Carthaginian Army, Forest Road South of Devnum

Zaracas’s  leaned heavily on his saddle, his head throbbing from all the wine he’d  drunk the night before. He smiled to himself, remembering the girl.  She’d been fun, enough so that it was a pity she wouldn’t be healed  enough to be available for his post-battle celebration. Of course, by  the evening he expected some new Roman slaves to be available. He’d take  consolation in breaking in some of the new ones.

He sat up as he  crossed the tree line, his soldiers fanning out into deep phalanxes,  pushing forward as new rows moved into position. He had to admit it was  an impressive sight and showed their immense power. As powerful as this  army was, he’d seen the real Carthaginian host. This would be just one  wing of a vanguard unit of the great host. Still, this was the thing  most Carthaginian generals rarely got, independent command.

“Sub-Commander,”  he said, waving over his cavalry commander. “Array your forces close to  the tree line. I do not want any of the Romans to get in behind us.”

“Yes, my lord. Should I also send scouts into the forest?”

“For  what? We are on the Roman’s doorstep. We have more soldiers in this  army than the Romans have in their entire empire. They have no choice  but to put out everything available to stop us. Now is the time for real  warriors to show their mettle Sub-Commander.”

The Calvary  commander made a face, but otherwise didn’t comment; which, given the  ruthlessness of the men who survived long enough to become generals, was  very wise. Instead, he saluted and turned to carry out his leader’s  orders.

Zaracas  watched the man ride away and made a mental note to have him observed  for possible elimination. He had no time for men who didn’t have the  stomach for victory. His attention towards the cavalry commander was  forgotten as unusual sounds began to carry to him. It wasn’t loud, at  first, but the rhythmic nature of was unusual, almost unnatural.

Two  sharp metallic sounds followed by a deeper sound. Bang. Bang. Thud. …  Bang. Bang. Thud. It continued, the sounds rolling over the rolling hill  that separated the Romans from the Carthaginian army.

“What is that noise?” Zaracas demanded, grabbing a nearby runner.

“I … I don’t know, my lord.”

“Go find out,” he said, pushing the younger man towards the front line.

The sound grated on Zaracas.  He knew the Romans were taunting him, calling out to him to start the  battle. Maybe their plan was to force him into a reckless attack, hoping  he’d make some kind of mistake. Zaracas snorted at the thought. The Romans position must be truly weak if they had to resort to tricks.

Roman Ninth Legion

Velius  watched his soldiers as they banged on their shields and stomped their  feet. It might not be much when a few men do it, but five thousand men  banging their shields and stomping in unison made a near-deafening  amount of noise. He could feel the vibrations through the ground with  each stomp.

While the Sword had given them several unusual tasks  as part of his battle plan, this one seemed the most pointless. He was  all for intimidating an opponent, but the Carthaginians already knew  they vastly outnumbered the Romans. No amount of noise was going to  intimidate them. He couldn’t imagine any reason for this, but he also  didn’t ask the Sword about it. If the man felt this needed to be part of  his strategy, Velius wasn’t going to argue with him.

Sitting on  his horse, the Legate looked over his first cohort, who was placed on  the far right of his line, next to the first cohort of the Fifth Legion.  The two together were to be the center of the Roman line, and the rock  that the rest of the Roman forces would form off. Carthaginians still  held to the old Greek ideas of the phalanx, whose job was to push a line  with a wall of spears until the enemy line broke, letting the rear  echelons of their line, mostly made up of light infantry, exploit the  break and turn both opposing flanks from the middle.

It wasn’t a  bad strategy and had served first the Greeks and then the Carthaginians  for centuries. Velius was a firm believer in the Roman system of heavy  infantry that was able to form both an effective wall and able to take  advantage of its own exploits. Since the entire Roman line was equally  trained and equipped infantry, it could pivot and switch direction with a  single signal. It wasn’t unheard of for a Roman legion to fight in four  directions at once or turn to face a surprise attack on their rear with  a single signal from the cornicen.

Of  course, none of that mattered when the phalanxes pushing against a  legion outnumbered them ten to one, which is what the Romans had faced  over the last several hundred years.

Velius was about to turn and  check on his flanks, making sure his forces were steady and ready to  stand up to what was about to come over the hill in front of them, when Globulus and his aides came riding up.

“Velius, prepare your legion to march forward. We will be taking the attack to the Carthaginians within the half-hour.”

Velius was floored. He’d always thought of Globulus  as a pompous blowhard who exhibited every bad trait from Romans older  traditions, more concerned with his own position and power than even the  existence of Rome as a people.

Globulus  was, however, a political animal before anything, and this move seemed  to go against every instinct Velius imagined the older man had. The  Emperor had made it clear he did not support a frontal attack and that  he’d given the Sword reign over the Roman strategy.

There was no way Globulus  could go so blatantly against the Emperor and survive, politically.  Unless, of course, he managed to defeat the Carthaginians, which seemed  ludicrous. Even the Sword’s plans seemed a long shot at best. Globulus’s thick-headed charge into the teeth of the Carthaginian phalanx was tantamount to suicide.

“Legate, the Emperor decreed that …”

“I  don’t care. I’m not going to let my people die because the Emperor has  been taken in by a charlatan. I am giving you a direct order. You will  have your legion form up with mine and be prepared to march. Now.”

“No. You are not in command here, Globulus. The Emperor gave overall command to the Sword.”

Globulus spat on the ground at Velius’s feet.

“After I crush the Carthaginians, the true Romans in the Senate will see you, and your friend hang.”

“Legate,  don’t do this. Their line is too large. They’ll wipe out your legion to  a man. We need your forces to hold the Carthaginian forces. You’re  putting all of Rome at risk.”

“No! I’m saving Rome and showing you  all what a real leader can do. You can rot here, coward,” the older  Legate said and turned his back, riding towards his already marching  men.

Velius spared the man one last glare as he all but assured the Roman destruction before turning to his subordinate.

“Gordianus, have your cohort hold here. Runners!

The  last word was shouted at the line of young men on horseback following  Velius at a short distance that worked as messengers to allow him to  communicate with the various parts of his legion.

“Notify the  Fifth Cohort to deploy on the far left, anchoring on the Fourth Cohort.  Make sure Viridius knows he is on the far end of the line. If he has to  pivot to keep from having his flank turned, he is to do it on his own  initiative. You five, notify the Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth, and  Tenth Cohorts to form on Gordianus’s right, in reverse order, with the  Tenth formed next to Gordianus and the Sixth on the extreme right.  Dexippus is also authorized to pivot, as needed, on his authority.  Inform all Cohorts that the second and third lines of reserves are gone.  If any fall back our line will break, and the way will be clear to  Devnum. We must hold until the Ninth Legion can engage.”

“Should we try and get word to the Sword and let him know what’s happened?” Gordianus asked.

“The  Carthaginians should be forming up by now. Any messenger getting caught  would risk tipping our hand. Besides, the Sword seems to have ways of  knowing what’s happening.”

Roman Ninth Legion

“What the hell is he doing,” Ky said out loud as he watched the feed from the drone.

“Dominous?” Aelius asked at the seemingly unprompted statement.

“Globulus  is moving his legion forward towards the Carthaginians. Velius is  holding position, deploying all of his legions in a single line to try  and cover the entire front by himself.”

“The Carthaginians are  seven deep,” Aelius said in surprise. “If they see Velius is spread so  thin, they can extend out and wrap around his entire legion. Should we  begin the attack early and come to their aide.”

“No. They haven’t deployed over the ridge yet. If we move now, they will totally smash us.”

“So, we just wait as the fat idiot gets all his men killed?”

“Throwing  your legion at a larger force with no hope of victory, won’t keep his  men from being killed. It would just ensure yours, and then Velius’s,  get wiped out alongside him.”

Aelius fell silent. He was not able to refute Ky’s words, yet did not want to agree with them.

Ky  watched as the Fifth Legion crested a rise, marching with practiced  precision towards the Carthaginian line. The AI put up estimates for the  Carthaginian army at just over forty thousand soldiers while Globulus  had just over five thousand. There was no way he could possibly expect  to win against those odds, especially not with a straight frontal  assault.

The only thing Globulus’s plan had going for it was the  Carthaginians clearly didn’t expect the Romans to go on the offensive,  not when they were outnumbered so badly. Their archers’ phalanxes had  started to deploy for battle, but they didn’t have time to get everyone  in line. Worse, they were deploying by layering in their units from  their right-wing towards their left, filling all the reserve units in  place before they began their next block of units to the left. Globulus  had been on the Roman far right, which mean he was coming against units  still moving into position.

Worse for the Carthaginians, their  left-wing was just moving into position when Globulus started his  attack. While it took some time for the Romans to cross the plains and  crest the hill that separated the two forces, the Carthaginian units  with their long spears and need for tightly packed, and well-controlled  soldiers meant they moved even slower. Anything short of a mad rush  towards the rear would have left Carthaginian units exposed and  vulnerable to attack, and while their already formed units in the center  did have time to pivot and reform for a counter-assault, they couldn’t  do so without getting tangled up in their own men.

What that meant  for the Carthaginians, was their phalanxes were going to be hit right  as they formed up, their units still loose and missing several ranks.  For a phalanx, this was very bad, especially when fighting a Roman  legion with their heavy infantry and large shields.

Not that Ky thought Globulus’s good luck would save him in the end.

As  expected, the initial assault went well for the Romans. They smashed  into the poorly formed Carthaginian units who all but fell apart at  first contact. New units began streaming in to reinforce them, but the  piecemeal nature of it made them just more grist for the mill. They  were, however, enough to slow the Fifth Legion’s advance. Ky hadn’t  built a lot of respect for the Roman Legate over their few meetings, but  he’d assumed the man had built up some tactical ability as one of  Rome’s leading generals.

Watching as the battle unfolded, Ky was soon disabused of that notion.

Globulus  kept pushing forward, heedless of any danger as he seemed fully focused  on wiping out the Carthaginians in front of him, who were already  stiffening resistance and had managed to stop falling back from the  assaulting Romans.

The elder General tried to push out additional  cohorts to surround the Carthaginian phalanx and turn in on the  Carthaginians, Ky thought that the General hoped to form up against the  tree line and draw out a sizable portion of the Carthaginian units to  allow the Seventh and Ninth Legions to attack what units remained from  both sides, effectively splitting the Carthaginian army and destroying  it in detail.

If this had been his plan, it was doomed from the  start. The Carthaginians reacted too fast for Globulus to be able to  turn and position himself properly. Instead, as he sent reserve units  around the right of the phalanx in front of him, a second Carthaginian  phalanx slammed into his Legion’s side.

To his men’s credit, the  legionnaires turned to meet this new threat, but it was too late.  Globulus’s left began to close in on itself. It began slowly, with one  or two men from each century, and then a handful, and finally, dozens at  a time turned and ran, only to find a third phalanx sweeping around the  right of the unit that had hit it on its side. Right as Globulus began  to deploy his remaining cohorts to his rear, his front line collapsed.  The sight of Carthaginian phalanxes closing in from the front and the  sides coupled with their fellow legionnaires dropping their weapons as  they ran turned the retreat into a full-on rout. The units that kept  their men in line paid the price for their bravery, dying where they  stood. The men who’d tried to save themselves by running found their  situation no better. Most were caught by the phalanx closing in on their  rear, that’d been ordered to give no quarter.

Ky watched as  Globulus went down, trying to rally his men, knocked down by terrified  soldiers. Ky watched the Legate go down, crushed by legionnaires  tripping over him or stepping on him in their mad dash to escape,  followed by Carthaginians chasing the running Romans.

Perhaps a  few hundred of the five thousand legionnaires that crossed over the  ridge with Globulus managed to escape back to the Roman lines. Most of  those didn’t even bother trying to reform with the Seventh Legion. They  just kept running, and probably wouldn’t stop until they hit the walls  of Devnum.

Thankfully, Velius managed to maintain order in his men  and kept any of them from being swept up in the retreating  legionnaires’ panic.

Ky could only watch as the Carthaginians began to reform their lines.

Roman Seventh Legion

Velius’s  stomach knotted as the Carthaginian army crested the ridge. Row after  row of spear-carrying men followed one after another. It felt to him,  standing in front of his thinned out legion, that the wave of soldiers  would never end.

Silently he cursed Globulus again. He’d heard  enough from the running legionnaires to know that the general was almost  certainly dead, having taken almost half of the Roman forces with him.  Their task had been all but impossible with the Fifth Legion, and now  they had to make do with just one legion of five thousand men to stop  nearly thirty-five thousand remaining Carthaginians. Even the Sword’s  clever plans didn’t seem to have a chance to stop them.

Velius  smiled as he realized that at least he wouldn’t be alive to see the end  of Rome. Like generations of warriors before him, Velius had developed a  soldier’s graveside humor.

“First line, stand ready,” Velius said to the cornicen standing near him.

The  man lifted the large, curled trumpet and blew a string of notes, which  were picked up by the cornicen attached to each Century and repeated,  passing the message down the line. Velius could almost see a ripple as  the Romans, who’d up to this point held their shields at rest against  the ground, lifted them in preparation for combat. The noise his legion  had been creating as they banged their swords against their shields and  stomped their feet in unison to taunt the Carthaginians stopped, each  now preparing for combat. The sudden silence, at least in comparison to  the racket his legion had been making, was startling.

The  Carthaginians had finished coming over the rise and spread out in front  of them. Even outnumbered, the Roman Legion was able to operate more  thinned out than the phalanx, which was required to be tightly packed to  be effective and required a deeper set of rows. The Carthaginian  general clearly didn’t plan on getting clever and formed up dead center  on the Roman line. They’d learned from harsh experience of the years  that if they tried to flank Romans, the more nimble legion’s ability to  turn allowed a good Roman general to swing around and flank their slower  attackers instead.

By this point, Carthaginians had worked out a  standard strategy of getting to grips with enough of a legion that the  Romans wouldn’t be able to hold the Carthaginians in place with part of  their line and wrap around the remaining sections, rolling out Cohorts  as they turned, which was precisely what Globulus had attempted, and  failed, to do in his attack.

Velius also assumed that the  Carthaginian general took one look at the thinned out Roman line and its  lack of reserve cohorts and decided he didn’t need to get fancy.

Once  all the Carthaginian phalanxes were lined up, they began to march  forward. Velius turned to look back at Sepurcius, making sure he was  ready for the command. Getting a signal that he was watching Velius  turned back towards the Carthaginians, arm held high, and he waited for  the Carthaginians to cross an imaginary line he’d placed in the field.

The  moment the front line of Carthaginians crossed his imaginary point,  Velius swung his arm down. As one, the men assigned to the onagers  released the ropes holding their throwing arms in place. Two dozen small  objects hurtled over the Carthaginian line, back almost as far as where  the plains began to raise up.

From this horse, Velius could see  several Carthaginian heads snap around, confused. Normally they would  see hundreds of point stones smashing into the body of the phalanx, and  Velius wondered if they realized this was a new strategy or if they  thought the Romans had collectively missed.

Not that they’d have  long to ponder the question. Each small jug smashed into the ground,  releasing the mixture that the Sword had given Sepurcius. Smoke exploded  from each of them as the components mixed, expanding out in billows.  The reaction didn’t last long, but it was a still day, which allowed the  smoke to hang in the air behind the Carthaginians, creating a wall of  smoke.

What their opponents thought of the ploy would have to wait  for later, Velius thought, as the front ranks of Carthaginians smashed  into the waiting Roman line, and men began to die.

Ninth Legion

“Move  your men to the edge of the tree line. Make sure your centurions keep  them back far enough to not be seen,” Ky said to Aelius as he watched  the Carthaginian line move over the ridge.

“Yes, Dominous,” Aelius said, slapping a fist to his chest and turning to pass instructions to his runners.

Ky  wasn’t concerned about the cavalry, which had moved forward several  dozen yards once the phalanxes had marched, would hear them. The noise  of the thousands of men on the march nearby and their own rearguard,  mostly made up of siege equipment to be used on the city itself and the  Carthaginian baggage train, moving up behind made it hard for anyone to  hear anything.

Ky recalled the drone and watched the archers and  cavalry form up close to the front, staggered with an archer in between  each rider, with the legionnaires forming up in ranks behind them. Ky  silently prodded the legionnaires forward. Every minute extra put  Velius’s men in danger. Ky had no doubt that the Legate would do all he  could, but he didn’t think the Seventh would last much longer than the  Fifth did. The numbers were just stacked too far against them.

As  soon as the bulk of the legionnaires were in place, Ky picked up the bow  he’d carried since the morning and drew an arrow. He had to hold the  position for a moment as the AI made the necessary calculations, sending  the drone around for multiple angles and readings of ambient  conditions. Finally a solution overlaid itself on Ky’s vision. He  released the arrow, which flew up through the branches of the trees  around him and through the canopy. Ky watched through the drone as the  arrow soared up in an arc, over the forest road and down through the  canopy on the other side, missing branches and tearing through leaves,  finally embedding itself a handful of meters in front of the detached  group of militia and their assigned legionnaires.

It was the signal they’d waited for. As one they rose up and charged forward, through the trees towards the forest road.

“Go,” Ky said to the legionnaires near him, and the rest of the city levy did the same.

Ky  didn’t wait to see what happened. He knew as soon as they burst through  the trees and attacked, the cavalry and rear guard would notice.

Word  had already passed up to Aelius, who’d been instructed to not wait for  him. Before Ky reached the tree line, the archers released a flight of  arrows that tore their way through the mounted horseman and into the  single phalanx that had been left with them for a rear guard.

Ky  could almost hear the Carthaginian’s shock as men around them began to  fall from the sudden surprise attack. Soldiers were climbing off horses  to check their comrades, looking at the arrows to try and reason what  had just happened, or just looking around in confusion when the Roman  cavalry burst through the trees.

The cavalry of this time was not  made for shock attacks. Without the benefit of stirrups, a rider could  be easily dismounted. They were normally used as mounted archers and  light skirmishers, slashing with sabers, and then riding away.

That  was all that was needed for this, however. The Carthaginian riders were  just as vulnerable to being displaced, and the reserve phalanx was  facing the wrong direction. The Roman cavalry just needed to take a  swipe at the front line and veer off, to make way for the Roman infantry  that would be following up behind them. The one, two, three punch was  designed to keep the Carthaginians from getting any type of defense in  place.

The Carthaginians were starting to panic after the shock of the Roman’s surprise attack, and Ky then pushed them over the edge.

Ky  burst from the forest right behind the cavalry. In the time it took  them to cross the open field between the trees and the Carthaginian  cavalry, Ky’s augmented body had pushed him past the furthest Romans.  He’d never tested it full out, and Ky doubted he could outpace a horse  at full gallop, but it took the large beasts time to get up to speed and  their riders didn’t push them to that extreme, since at these shorter  distances stopping or turning without the horses breaking their legs  required a slightly slower pace.

That didn’t keep the Roman riders  from being astonished as a golden blur tore past their horses and cut  through three Carthaginian riders as if they weren’t there. Men and  horses fell bleeding, and Ky didn’t even slow down. His target was the  phalanx.

Men were just starting to turn around as Ky exploded into  them, bodily smashing into the rear ranks, his kinetic shielding  reacting as if he’d smashed into the ground. Several Carthaginians were  sent flying over their nearest comrades only to come smashing down onto  the heads and spears of those further ahead of them.

Ky had to  brace to keep from falling over from the impact. Bent slightly forward  he was face to face, or at least flight helmet to face, with a terrified  Carthaginian who was seeing something his brain couldn’t comprehend.  The warrior didn’t have time to contemplate the unknown as Ky righted  himself, slashing up with his sword as he planted his legs and  straightened his back. Ky’s sword slashed up the man’s middle, exploding  through his jaw, sending a long arc of blood sailing over the falling  man’s comrades.

Ky began attacking as fast as the AI could plot  solutions, his sword stabbing and slashing in an almost blur. The buzz  saw working its way through their ranks was the final straw. Men threw  down their pikes and tried to flee in all directions.

The largest  group attempted to retrace the path they’d marched that morning, unaware  that their way was blocked by Romans tearing through their baggage  train and camp followers. Ky ignored that group, reasoning they’d bottle  themselves up. His main concern was someone breaking through to the  main Carthaginian line, and giving them warning of what was coming.

The  AI maintained a track on anyone heading towards the bulk of the  Carthaginian forces as Ky worked his way through them. He was a blur  across the battlefield, hobbling horses, pulling riders off their mounts  back and tossing them one-handed through the air, and cutting through  foot soldiers. Even with his exceptional abilities, he probably wouldn’t  have been able to get everyone, but the Roman Cavalry made up the  difference, chasing down stragglers.

By the time his plot cleared  and he had a chance to look up, the only remaining Carthaginians were  running either east or west, effectively taking themselves off the  board.

Ky slowed to a normal speed, jogging back up to the Ninth’s  command group. He was happy to note that after the Carthaginians had  been routed, Aelius had pulled his legionnaires back together and  reformed for the main attack as they’d planned, leaving everything else  to the Cavalry. As he watched, the legionnaires spread out to be only a  single century deep. It wouldn’t give them any depth for a protracted  battle, but it should allow the Ninth to stretch the entire length of  the much more tightly packed Seventh Legion, or the Carthaginians.

Legionnaires  parted as Ky walked through them, giving Ky a wide berth as he went.  With a mental command, his helmet retracted into the collar of his  flight suit, vanishing out of sight.

“Good job getting your people  back together, Legate,” Ky said as he walked up to Aelius’s horse,  putting a hand on its side, and looking up at the commander.

“Dominous … I … how …” the roman said, with a mixed expression of terror and awe on his face.

“Aelius, snap out of it, we still have a lot of work to do.”

“Yes,  Dominous. I was just … Yes. We are ready to march at your command. A  unit of horsemen will remain behind to clean up the Carthaginians. The  rest should join us here in a moment.”

“Then let’s move. Velius can’t last long. Once we hit the wall of smoke, have your men charge for all their worth.”

“Legionnaires,” Aelius called in a tone that carried surprisingly far.

The line repeated the message until it traveled down the length of the entire line.

“Forward.”

Ky pushed through to the front of the line of Romans as they marched.

Ky  stepped up the pace, and the legionnaires matched him, their front line  officers seeming to pace themselves off of him. Keeping this in mind,  Ky stopped accelerating at what would be a steady but not too exhaustive  a pace for the legionnaires, as they crossed the remaining two-hundred  yards to the hill. Sending his helmet snapping back into place, Ky  pulled up the feed from the drone, which he sent zipping back to Velius’  lines.

Things were not going well, there. The Seventh hadn’t  broken, but it was continually contracting under the weight of  Carthaginian soldiers, as both flanks began to bend back on themselves.  If this kept up, the Romans would either end up in a circle or break  completely. Roman dead littered the ground passed over by the  Carthaginians.

To their credit, a larger number of Carthaginian dead lay alongside them.

Seeing  the trouble Velius was in, Ky began a slight jog as he hit the ridge  and started to go over the other side. The Romans behind him followed  suit, with everyone picking up speed as they began their descent down  the hill.

The wall of smoke had started to dissipate, and Ky was a  little concerned that the Carthaginians might notice them, but everyone  seemed intent on the battle to their front. From the perspective of the  Drone, Ky could see the Carthaginians had divided their force in two,  with half actively engaging the Romans and the other half held in  reserve, with their officers in the center of the line, and between both  forces.

Had the Carthaginian reserve noticed in time and turned  around, they could have more than matched the Ninth Legion, which was  smaller than the Seventh, and would have beaten both forces  simultaneously. Thankfully, none of the Carthaginians realized what was  happening until the legionnaires broke through the bank of smoke and  started screaming like banshees, charging full out.

It was a  repeat of the attack by the forest as men turned, wasting precious  moments to figure out what was happening. The main difference was that  Ky didn’t charge into them. He knew this would be a harder fight than  the attack on the single phalanx and knew they could use one more  advantage over the Carthaginians. He’d picked out the leader of the  Carthaginian army through the drone as he’d charged down the hill, or at  least the man who looked to be giving directions to the Carthaginian  units. He decided that the leader and his aides would serve as a good  subject for his planned spectacle. When he got within ten feet of the  Carthaginians, Ky pushed himself off the ground as hard as he could,  leaping clear over the reserve units of Carthaginians and landing an  arm’s length from their commander.

The entire command group froze  as Ky landed in their midst. Unlike their rearguard, they had yet to  notice the charging Romans. The man Ky had tagged as their leader was  just turning to look at the bizarre figure who’d landed next to him when  Ky slashed back with one arm, the end of his sword catching the man in  the neck.

His aides recoiled in horror as his head, sailing away  from his body, bounced several times before coming to rest at the feet  of his line of reserves. The spell caused by their leader’s decapitation  was interrupted when Ky exploded into action. Kicking forward he  smashed into the side of a horse, sending it and its rider smashing into  the back rows of warriors currently engaged with the Romans. Ky  proceeded to take apart the rest of the command group, purposefully  making each attack as much of a spectacle as possible.

Men were  flying in all directions as Ky punched, kicked, and threw them violently  into their fellow warriors. Those who weren’t sent flying joined their  leader’s headless body as it bled out onto the golden-brown grass. In  the open area in between the two sections of Carthaginians, and with the  human missiles as signals to gain everyone’s attention, Ky was  impossible to miss. Sections of the front line not currently engaged  with the Romans and a fairly large portion of the reserve forces all  stopped and watched as Ky obliterated their leaders, moving so quickly  that no one managed to escape.

As Ky had hoped, most of the  reserve forces had forgotten about the charging Romans, who suddenly  struck the unprepared forces from behind as they stared at the death of  their leaders. The only thing that kept the reserves from completely  dissolving was the sheer number of soldiers in the Carthaginian ranks,  which were significantly deeper than their Roman counterparts.

By  the time the Romans pushed halfway through the lines of Carthaginian  reserves, their defense stiffened. Unlike the rearguard that had broken  and ran, these men were trapped between two forces, and knew if they  threw down their weapons they would be killed. Unfortunately for the  Carthaginians - who, even at this point, outnumbered the Roman forces -  they’d been forced to drop their heavy shields and long spears, in order  to turn completely around and defend themselves.

This left them  too lightly armored to counter the Roman push, causing them to steadily  give ground towards the rear of their front line.

Horns sounded up  and down the Roman Seventh Legion, signaling for them to begin pushing  forward. With the leadership demolished, and the Ninth making good  progress against the reserve forces, Ky moved to help the seventh.

Cutting  his way through several rows of men until he was directly in the middle  of the Carthaginian phalanx, Ky pulled his sidearm and fired two  rounds, one in each direction along the Carthaginian line. The ball of  super-heated plasma burned dozens of yards each way, completely  obliterating those directly in its path and setting several rows on  either side on fire. Ky had made sure to fire parallel to the Roman  front line, so he didn’t set their large wooden shields on fire by  accident. While this meant the front lines of Carthaginians were  unharmed, the sudden destruction of the men behind them and the support  to keep pushing forward against the Romans was enough to take its toll.

The  center of the Carthaginian line disintegrated and Roman legionnaires  pored through the hole, attacking the newly created flanks. Without the  reserve forces to try and plug the gap, the Carthaginian line began to  come apart. Men, who’d been too engaged in fighting to notice the Romans  in their rear, tried to turn and run, only to find their reserve forces  in the way.

The Carthaginian lines began to crumble, trying to  escape out the sides not currently bracketed by Roman units. For their  part, the Romans continued pressing hard, ensuring the Carthaginians  were thoroughly broken.

Ky moved from pocket of resistance to  pocket of resistance, a deadly golden blur cutting its way through  warriors who’d tried to resist or fight their way out. It didn’t matter  in the end. A good portion of the Carthaginian army actually survived,  with more turning to run than actually died on the battlefield.

Roman  Cavalry harassed them and would do so for a while, to ensure they kept  running until they made it back to Londinium. Ky looked across the  battlefield, and the two groups of Romans still finishing off the last  Carthaginian resistance.

He couldn’t believe it. They’d won!


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