In the evening, the dusk light pierced through the broken clouds, and in the ancient land of Britain, a hundred thousand tribal warriors gathered from all directions like a pack of hungry wolves, and walked through the forest, occasionally startling a flock of birds, rushing above the dense forest and flying into the distance.

On the other side of the forest, 20,000 Roman legionnaires marched in unison, their silver armor faded in the dim light. The soldiers held a large Latin shield with an intricately engraved pattern in one hand and a heavy javelin of Legion's standard in the other, staring at the dark and gloomy forest with an alert gaze. Not long ago, their commander told them that a great battle was about to take place here, that they had entered the largest battle in the history of Britain, and that the enemy did not know when and from where they would rush out, but, as a regiment that had received information, the teams must be ready to fight at any time.

It wasn't until the setting sun faded that the Roman legionnaires began to routinely dig fortifications and build camps.

"Hey, you guys, go over there and cut down some trees, this watchtower needs some thick stakes to support it."

Centurion Olidaus shouted at a group of barbarian auxiliary infantry preparing to dig a trench. This is the order of Appis, tonight, all the main infantry of the legion are not allowed to participate in the construction of the barracks, to conserve their physical strength, but to do some light work symbolically, and let the auxiliary troops of those tribes to build.

The quiet atmosphere was suffocating, and everyone except the Horde's Auxiliary Legion knew that in the forest, the eyes of countless beasts were watching the Legion's every move. Several Sticky hunters stood on the wagon of the grain caravan, and looked into the distance with a terrible gaze, a foggy forest, breaking through the fog.

……

"Reina, tell the people to prepare to charge."

"But the Great Chief's order is to wait until he sees the light of fire?"

At night, seeing that the camp of the Roman legions was gradually taking shape, and Torles never gave the order for a general attack, the patriarch of the Cherus tribe began to be a little impatient, if the Romans were allowed to build a camp, then tonight's general attack would undoubtedly be in vain. In a hurry, the patriarch directly ordered his own people to prepare for a surprise attack. And the brother next to the patriarch retorted with some anxiety.

"Can't wait, if the Romans build a camp and rely on those high walls and towers, no matter how many of us are, we will not be able to encircle the Roman legions. Torles was too cautious, it was he who summoned us to this battle, and now he temporarily backed down, not allowing such a good opportunity to slip away! Perhaps, this battle can only be launched by me. ”

The chieftain of the tribe said anxiously. He ordered his own people behind him, his own sneak attack troops, to prepare a surprise attack and rush towards the camp of the Romans. And he didn't know that at the other end of the battle line, the great chief of the tribe, Toles, had already noticed the movement of the Roman legions tonight, because the camp was obviously being built at a beat slower than usual, and Toles suspected that the Romans already knew about the upcoming raid tonight, and deliberately only built a perfunctory camp, unwilling to consume too much physical strength.

However, before the great chief of the tribe could think of an answer, a beastly roar had already sounded from the forest, and with the light of fire, the indigo raiders of the Cherus tribe of more than 10,000 people were already holding torches and battle axes, and rushed towards the Roman legions like a raging wind.

", which tribe? Who let them go to war! ”

Torles, the ghost wolf, stood up and cursed loudly. However, he didn't have time to think, as long as one of the fifteen tribes formed a huge coalition of tribes took the lead in fighting, the other tribes could not sit idly by, and could only fight with all their might.

Immediately, Torles ordered all the drummers around him to beat the drums of war.

Tens of thousands of barbarian coalition troops, like a black tide, surged out of the forest in an instant.

"Soldiers, prepare for the most ferocious onslaught of the barbarians, hold on to your shields and javelins, and give them the deadliest blow to the barbarians as they rush forward!"

Centurion Olius shouted. All the regimental heavy infantry instantly threw away their pickaxes and flat shovels and other tools in their hands, picked up the shields and javelins on the ground, and regrouped with extremely skillful speed, and after the formation of the first row of formations, countless personnel rushed from the rear to form a standard and dense regimental front.

The majestic horn sounded, and the huge "watchtower" in the center of the camp began to operate, and it was only then that people realized that it was not a sentry at all, but a huge catapult!

With the order of the commander of the engineer regiment, countless artillery stones carrying flames were thrown into the sky.

The night was suddenly lit up, like a rain of meteors across the sky.

Ahead, the Celtic coalition roared and rushed to the line of the Roman legions. The 20,000 Roman legionnaires clenched their javelins and threw a deadly rain of javelins just before the enemy rushed forward.

In the night, black spears flew in the air, making a terrible whistling sound.

The barbarian army in front of them suddenly fell in large numbers, but in the darkness of the night, no one knew how many people were killed in the first round of javelin throwing.

The Cherus tribe was at the forefront, and the warriors of the tribe rushed to the Roman legionary line like bloodthirsty beasts, even jumping above the legion's shield wall and slashing with heavy axes and swords.

But soon, they were drenched in blood, and there were endless screams on the narrow front.

Blood and severed arms flew everywhere, and 100,000 Celtic warriors and two Roman legionnaires crowded into the narrow walkway. Their roars, their screams, hovered over the forest like a hellish lament.

Crane stabbed his sword into the abdomen of the Celtic infantry in front of him, and bloody intestines and internal organs flowed out of the broken wounds. With the screams, the Celtic infantry's faces were covered in blood, and then, without giving him more time to moan*, the centurion stabbed him in the throat with another sword, causing the blood to shoot out freely.

On the battle front, a legionnaire was dragged out of his position by the barbarians, and then crushed to death alive by a large group of barbarian soldiers with mallets and stone axes. Until blood and brains splatter.

Several Scotti hunters climbed atop the ox carts of the baggage caravan, clenched their short bows, pulled their bowstrings, and shot at the British tribal coalition on the periphery. These tribal confederations, which they had intended to join, were now their enemies, for their patriarch had declared allegiance to Rome and to Appis. And made a blood oath before the god of crows.

The arrows passed through the crowd, hitting the Celtic warriors who climbed above the Legion's shield wall one by one, some clutching their arrowed necks and falling in pain, some were shot in the thighs, screaming and kneeling, and then dragged down by the Roman soldiers under the shield wall and pricked into flesh......