The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe
Chapter 84 Camp Defense

Chapter 84: Chapter 84 Camp Defense

At this moment, the Lucanians had already entered Juleios’s line of sight.

"Act immediately according to the defensive deployment we practiced before!" Juleios promptly issued orders to the company captains.

The company captains began to methodically lead their subordinates to their designated positions:

"First heavy infantry company, follow me to the wooden wall on the eastern side of the north gate!"

"Second heavy infantry company, brothers, come with me to the wooden wall on the northern side of the south gate!"

"Third heavy infantry company, gather on the training field with me! Hurry up, damn it!"

"First light infantry company archers, follow your squad leaders to the southern watchtowers!"

...

The soldiers quickly took their positions, leaving only the group of routed soldiers surrounded by the guards.

"How many are there?" Juleios urgently asked Philesius, who had just gone to calm them down.

"Quite a few! Nearly four hundred, most of them freemen, and the majority are unarmed," Philesius reported.

"Mersis!" Juleios shouted.

Mersis rushed over.

"How many spare javelins do we have left?"

"Five hundred twenty-six. They were made in a rush by the blacksmiths in Thurii over the past two days, and all the money we earned at the market was spent on making these weapons..." Mersis grumbled.

But Juleios wasn’t in the mood to listen to his complaints. He quickly instructed Philesius, "Give each of them a javelin, then assign a few to each squad so they can also join the defense!"

"Understood!" Philesius walked toward the routed soldiers.

Mersis, however, remained still.

Juleios knew what he was hesitating about and immediately said, "Once the javelins are used, we must recover them. Besides, aren’t the Lucanians bringing us weapons?"

This instantly brought a smile to Mersis’s face. He quickly ordered the slaves to transport weapons from the supply camp. Trusting Juleios completely, he didn’t consider the possibility of the mercenaries failing to repel the enemy and the camp being overrun.

The mercenaries stood behind the wooden walls, just as calm. Their expressions remained steady as they watched the enemy surge toward the camp like a tide. They even took the opportunity to educate the new recruits.

"Now, do you think building such a complicated camp was necessary?" Matonis asked with a smile.

"It’s absolutely necessary!" Ctipus said excitedly. "I just hope these barbarian natives really test out the traps I dug!"

...

The mercenaries, leaning on the wooden walls, used the time to recover their strength while eagerly anticipating the spectacle. Meanwhile, Xilos’s fifth heavy infantry company, which hadn’t participated in the previous battle, was eager for the enemy to charge in so they could engage them in combat.

...

After separating from the Grumentum forces, the Picossian warriors continued eastward in pursuit.

Genat, running at the forefront, could already see the mercenary camp. He roared, "Charge in and kill them all!"

The warriors echoed his cries, their exhaustion seemingly driven away by their shouts, and their pace quickened.

"Captain, the Lucanians are less than 200 meters from the camp!" The squad leader of the archers on the watchtower shouted down to Alpines on the ground.

"Let me know when they’re 100 meters away!" Alpines replied and then turned to the slingers behind him, ordering, "Prepare yourselves!"

Because the pathway behind the wooden walls was too narrow, the slingers couldn’t operate there effectively and had to gather below the walls. Silently, they each pulled egg-sized stones from the pouches on their waists and placed them in the nets of their slings.

...

100 meters!

The soldiers on the wooden walls fixed their eyes on the front. When they saw many Lucanians enter this range, they couldn’t help but cheer.

Genat didn’t understand what the Greeks in the camp were yelling about. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on the round shield in his hand. During the pursuit, many warriors had discarded their heavy round shields to move faster, but he had held onto his.

"Greeks, soon you won’t be able to scream anymore!" he muttered viciously. But just as he took a step forward, a sharp pain shot through his right foot.

"There’s a trap!" He recoiled instinctively, but the pain intensified, rendering him nearly speechless. Looking down, he saw that a large chunk of flesh had been torn from his right calf, bleeding profusely. Brushing aside the grass, he found a sharp, barbed iron spike embedded diagonally in the ground. Tugging at it, he couldn’t pull it out. Only after digging through the packed dirt did he see that the spike was welded tightly to a wooden base buried deep in the soil, explaining its ferocity.

"Vile Greeks!" Genat cursed, tearing a piece of linen from his clothing to wrap his injured leg. Using his spear for support, he stood and shouted, "Beware of hooks on the ground!"

His warning came too late. Many warriors were already falling, their cries of pain filling the air. The mercenaries on the wooden walls cheered, "The meat hooks worked! Another one down!"

Veterans proudly explained to the new recruits that this was one of Juleios’s inventions, further deepening their respect for him. In fact, this was a classic trap used by the Romans in their fortified camps, which Juleios had learned about from military history forums in his previous life. While it didn’t seem particularly lethal, an injury to the foot in the era of cold weapons was enough to incapacitate a warrior.

Seeing their comrades’ plight, the advancing Lucanian warriors naturally became more cautious, bending down to carefully search through the grass and stones to avoid the traps. But this caution left them vulnerable to the mercenaries’ ranged attacks. Guided by the archers on the watchtowers, the slingers’ stones rained down with precision. To avoid the stones, the warriors couldn’t watch their step, and many ended up either struck by stones or caught in the traps.

After advancing only a few dozen meters with great difficulty, they encountered an even deadlier trap—the "tombstone." These were 1.5-meter-deep pits with sharpened stakes at the bottom, covered with loose dirt. If stepped on, the stakes would pierce right through a foot under the weight of the body...

By the time the Picossian chief, Cincinnatus, arrived, he saw countless warriors writhing on the ground, clutching their feet in agony, with groans and cries of pain filling the air. Those still standing hovered 100 meters away from the enemy camp, their faces filled with fear, unwilling to advance.

"What’s going on?! Why aren’t you attacking?!" Cincinnatus angrily demanded, his heart aching as he looked at the fallen warriors.

"Father," Genat limped over, using his spear as a crutch. His voice was filled with sorrow. "The vile Greeks have laid numerous traps outside their camp. Many of our warriors are injured, and we... we can’t get close to their camp."

"Warriors?! You cowards dare call yourselves warriors?!" Cincinnatus’s scolding made those around lower their heads in shame.

Seeing his favorite son, injured and disheveled, with his usual confident demeanor replaced by exhaustion and frustration, Cincinnatus felt a pang of sorrow. His tone softened slightly, "How’s your injury?"

"It’s just a flesh wound, nothing serious," Genat forced himself to say. "But... our tribesmen have suffered too much. We... we can’t attack anymore..."

Cincinnatus nodded slightly, glaring at the mercenary camp ahead. Thinking of the damage these mercenaries had inflicted on his warriors, a wave of hatred surged in his heart. "Send in the Bruttians!"

After the Greek army’s retreat, the warriors of Vig City didn’t share the Picossians’ thirst for vengeance, so their pursuit was slower. They arrived at the same time as Cincinnatus. Seeing the Picossians’ sorry state, they couldn’t help but sneer. However, under Cincinnatus’s pressure, Vig City’s chief, Sedorum, reluctantly agreed to launch an attack, on the condition that they borrow the Picossians’ round shields.

Cincinnatus agreed.

The Picossians’ condescending attitude had long irritated the Vig warriors, who now saw an opportunity to prove they were superior to the so-called "cowards." Learning from the Picossians’ mistakes, they avoided the grassy areas and attacked through the narrow, flat path in front of the camp. With their round shields tightly protecting their heads, they advanced cautiously in a long, tight formation...