The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe
Chapter 89 Luring the Enemy

Chapter 89: Chapter 89 Luring the Enemy

"How can this be? You swore an oath to the Divines!" Bourkos pleaded, his voice trembling with desperation. "Leader Juleios, I beg you! Keep your soldiers here and aid Thurii one more time! I’ll double your pay! Weapons? Thurii has plenty—I’ll send them to you immediately! Manpower? You saw today’s battle—Thurii lost over 2,000 men. We have no one left!" Bourkos lamented, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him.

Juleios’s expression hardened, his cold eyes betraying no sympathy.

Panicking, Bourkos scrambled for another offer. "Let me think... Let me think... Oh! Thurii may lack soldiers, but we have strong, young male slaves from the copper and stone mines. Take as many as you need!"

Juleios stroked his chin, feigning deep thought. After a moment, he replied, "...Very well. But I have no provisions to feed these slaves."

"Thurii has food in abundance—grain, livestock. Take whatever you need!" Bourkos exclaimed, his desperation evident.

That night, all of Thurii bustled with frantic activity. Grief-stricken citizens, suppressing their sorrow, worked tirelessly to load hundreds of ships with weapons, food, slaves, and tents. The Tarantum reinforcements, refusing to enter the city, demanded their supplies be delivered directly to the mercenary camp. The makeshift dock at the river mouth became a hive of activity, the flicker of torches illuminating grim yet determined faces.

Juleios ordered Mersis and his logistics unit to oversee the supplies while the soldiers rested, conserving their strength for what was to come.

At the break of dawn, the mercenary force stood arrayed in disciplined formation before the camp. Juleios, astride his steed, inspected the ranks. The soldiers’ resolute expressions and spirited demeanor brought a rare smile to his face.

"Matonis," he called, his voice steady, "are you ready?"

Matonis, ever the firebrand, grinned fiercely. "I can’t wait!"

"Don’t worry," Juleios said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "There will be plenty of enemies for you. Every one of us must take down at least three foes to secure victory. Can you manage that?"

"Yes!!!" the soldiers roared, their collective voice a thunderous affirmation.

Matonis’s voice rose above the clamor. "Three aren’t enough for me!"

Juleios laughed heartily, his laughter rippling through the ranks. Leaping onto his horse, he rode to the front of the army. Turning to his men, he raised his voice. "Brothers, I see hope burning in your eyes! After today’s battle, let us forge that hope into reality. Hades will guide us!"

"Victory!"

"Victory!!"

"Victory!!!"

The deafening chants rolled across the plain like a storm.

As the echoes faded, Juleios turned to Philesius. "I await your good news!"

"Do not worry, Leader! With Hades’ blessing, we will succeed!" Philesius replied, his voice brimming with confidence.

The mercenary column disappeared into the morning mist, heading northward. Juleios watched their silhouettes fade, the weight of the coming battle heavy on his mind. Taking a deep breath, he shouted to Asistes, "Back to camp! Let us begin our preparations!"

"Yes, sir!" Asistes replied, his voice as resolute as his leader’s.

On the walls of Thurii, a sentry strained his ears, his face pale. "Hey, did you hear that? It sounds like an army marching!"

His companion stiffened. "Could it be the Lucanians attacking us?"

"Sound the alarm! Notify the citizens!" the sentry barked, rushing toward the tower.

By the time citizen-soldiers scrambled to man the walls, the plains outside had fallen silent. Thick mist clung to the landscape, shrouding it in an eerie stillness. Cavalry scouts, wary of venturing into the haze, advised caution. They waited for the sun to rise and burn away the fog.

As the mist lifted under the midmorning sun, horns echoed from the Lucanian tribal coalition’s camp. Warriors armed themselves, their ranks swelling as they prepared to march into the Sybaris Plain.

Suddenly, a sentry burst into the camp. "Enemies! Enemies are here!"

The announcement caused a stir. Lucanian warriors, intrigued by the audacity of an attack, peered out of the camp.

Just beyond the perimeter, 200 fully armed Greek hoplites stood, their bronze shields gleaming in the morning light. The Greeks were calm, their disciplined posture in stark contrast to the thousands of Lucanian eyes upon them. Without warning, the Greeks began hurling round objects into the camp.

The objects landed with dull thuds, and as the warriors examined them, horror set in. Severed heads—grotesquely mutilated, ears severed, eyes gouged—stared lifelessly back. Their expressions, frozen in terror, rekindled the fury of the Lucanians.

The Greeks, unrelenting in their provocation, lifted their tunics and urinated in the direction of the camp, their taunts vile and unyielding.

A roar of rage erupted. Ignoring their leaders’ commands, over a thousand Lucanian warriors surged out of the camp, charging toward the Greeks with reckless fury.

The Greek soldiers, their purpose fulfilled, turned and fled. The enraged Lucanians pursued them with abandon, rounding a ridge—only to find themselves face-to-face with nearly 2,000 Greek soldiers waiting in disciplined formation.

A volley of javelins rained down, cutting through the charging Lucanians. The Greeks followed with a brutal countercharge, shattering the morale of their disorganized foes. The retreating Lucanians were hunted down with ruthless efficiency, their cries of agony echoing back to the camp.

Within the camp, the remaining Lucanian warriors fumed, their leaders struggling to maintain order. Pressure mounted on Akpiru, the grand chief, as his men demanded vengeance.

"Grand Chief, I recognize them!" Genat shouted. "They are the same cursed mercenaries from yesterday!"

Akpiru’s eyes narrowed. "Are you certain, boy?"

"I’d stake my life on it!" Genat snarled.

"Grand Chief, allow me to lead 3,000 warriors to drive them back and avenge our kinsmen from Picossis!" Sevira stepped forward, his voice sharp with urgency.

Akpiru’s face twisted into a scowl. "These Greeks dared provoke us! Good. We will crush them here and save ourselves the trouble of taking their camp later." He raised his voice, his fervor infecting the gathered leaders. "Sound the attack horns! Assemble the entire army! After defeating them, we shall claim the Sybaris Plain as our own!"

The attack horns blared, their ominous wail signaling the Lucanians’ march to w