The golden morning light seems to rise from the sky on the other side of the mountain, and the morning sun with a thousand rays of light has not really risen, and in the afterglow of the morning sun, the fire that burned all night is finally left with a little smoke left, dyeing this morning with a touch of desolation, silently telling what a terrible night there has been here.

In the dilapidated and collapsed settlement, there were bones everywhere, and only a pile of wreckage was left in the longhouse and camp, and there was still a little black smoke on the charred beams and door frames, emitting an unpleasant smell of burning. The gate of the camp, the top of the wooden wall, the perimeter of the settlement hall...... Everywhere, you can see the twisted bones of those fallen to the ground, and in the hideous appearance, you can still vaguely see the resistance before death.

Restianus stood outside the gate of the camp with his sword on his hand, looking at the soldiers who were still excited, rummaging through the cabinets, and couldn't help but sigh - there were only a bunch of children, women and children left, and even the largest Hantu tribe around the green valley had lost its last threat, and was nothing more than a property waiting to be taken over.

For three whole days, he led the soldiers of the three banner regiments to sweep all the surrounding settlements one by one, and originally thought that he would encounter some decent resistance, but as a result, most of the Hantu barbarians fell into the wind after seeing the three-sided tribal totem, and did not even hesitate at all, so that Lerbinus, who was originally prepared to deal with the enemy's resistance, was somewhat discouraged.

The barbarians, who had slaughtered lone merchants and patrolling soldiers in the wilderness, were now obediently subservient to their feet like rabbits, could not but be somewhat ironic to Repcinus—yes. It is not themselves that the other party really surrenders. It's the red cross flag on a black background behind him. The battle flag that really gave dignity to the Battle Banner Legion!

After clearing the surrounding tribes one by one, Liberus sent his troops to attack the next day, but he did not think that this tribe, which did not even have a young man, became the last force to dare to resist them—the old men, armed with their battle axes and sickles, rushed out of the camp with their elders, while the women and children hid behind the fences, assisting and covering them with javelins and stones.

Of course, they can't stand these already trained ones. And the legionnaires, fed with the booty, fought a one-sided slaughter - if even such a thing as hunting could be called a battle.

"Chief Centurion of Radius, the brethren have been assembled!" came up to a rather impossive-looking flag leader, and called out to him with a smile: "The captives have been taken - if you are not going to say anything more, the brethren are still waiting to go home!"

"No, it's nothing, let's retreat. Nodding to the flag commander, Liberinus rolled over his horse as he spoke, and exhaled deeply: "Take all the baggage and booty, and take all the prisoners." Return to the Green Valley Fortress!"

The three flag regiments, carrying the flaming goshawk flag and the red cross flag on a black background, escorted a large amount of baggage and booty through the wilderness. At the end of the long line were more than two thousand captives, forced to follow at the very end of the procession. Unkempt and ragged, the appearance is extremely miserable.

Most of these captives were women and children, and even the elderly were very scarce - not only because the old captives were worthless, but also because they were very prominent in the tribe and respected by the barbarian tribesmen, who were no less threatening than the barbarian warriors who could resist at any moment, if not more dangerous.

The combined number of the three banner regiments was not even a thousand - after all, the former battle banner regiment was only an auxiliary regiment, and there was a serious shortage of personnel, and Lepinus did not have many cavalry in his hands, so he had to tie these captives up with ropes, and tie them together in twos and threes, and hang them in the parking spaces, so that they could only run forward without stopping until the whole team had stopped.

The desperate Hantu barbarians did not even have the slightest sense of resistance, and under the threat of whips and spears, they forced their feet to advance on the wilderness with their already bloody feet, and often scuffled over a piece or two of hard toothed black bread, and then restored order to the shouts and curses of the soldiers, and continued on this road of no return with fear and humiliation.

Less than a thousand soldiers guarded more than 2,000 prisoners, even if it was just a group of women and children who didn't even have the idea of resisting, which made Lybinus have to be cautious, always worried that there might be a sneak attack by a small number of barbarian warriors who were wandering, but he never encountered them, which made him feel that his luck was still good.

Thus, Repcinus, who had always been attentive to his captives, did not notice that from the moment he left the settlement, several barbarian cavalry had been closely following them, one of whom was the envoy of the Red Horse Clan, Gracchus, whom he had met once.

"Despicable Turin dog!" On the hillside, a barbarian cavalryman who followed Gragu looked at the women and children who were being driven by the battle banner legion like cattle, and immediately scolded, and his already vicious face became much more hideous: "The ancestral spirits of the Han Land will not bypass you damn beasts!"

"Lord Gracchus. The cavalry looked at Gracchus beside him with expectant eyes, and the battle axe in his hand was already raised: "Attack, when the enemy crosses this wasteland, we will have no chance!"

But all that came was Gracchus' wordless silence, and after a long wait, he finally slowly spoke: "We withdraw our troops and return to the tribal camp!"

"What?!" Almost as soon as he finished saying this, the cavalryman's face immediately showed a somewhat surprised and angry expression: "Do you have to look at it like this?!"

"What are you going to do?!" Before he could pounce on him and cut off Gracchus's head with an axe, the people behind him grabbed him first: "Aim your weapon at your lord - are you going to break your oath?!"

"I can die for Lord Gracchus!" replied the barbarian cavalry with an angry roar, his fierce eyes turning back like a beast, staring at him who was still silent, "but you must tell me why, why do you want to watch your compatriots die!"

"Compatriots, what compatriots?" Gracchus glanced at him coldly, "Do you mean those traitors who are unwilling to obey the will of the Great Chief, or those cowards who are afraid of death and are willing to be slaves to the people of Turine?"

"I ......"

Seeing his subordinates' words, Gragu just snorted coldly and turned his head. If he could, he would love to take his samurai to tear the Turines to shreds and save the poor captives. But this time he only brought a hundred light cavalry, and even if he was convinced that the brave Hantus could fight ten Turin dogs at a time, then what could he do?

The food of his subordinates is just enough to eat, and if he saves those prisoners, he may not be able to hold out for even two days, and if he encounters the main force of the Turin army with these burdens, what will he do?

Saving them will put you in a dilemma, and if you don't, you will ruin the prestige of the Red Horse clan and centrifuge the warring tribes. So the wisest choice is to maintain the status quo and resolutely not appear.

Edward Witwood...... Gracchus, who had been a mercenary, had a vague impression of the name, as if he was a knight who had just become famous in the war in the south, and seemed to have been given the territory of a castle because of this, proving that the chief flag officer still had some ability.

But the other party's purpose is nothing more than to clear the entire green river valley before the arrival of winter - because the cold is approaching, the Red Horse clan will not attack the fortress at this time. A mocking smile rose at the corner of Gragu's mouth, you underestimate the Hantu people too much, the anger of the ancient ancestor spirit will only make cowards and enemies fearful!

"Enjoy your last victory, Edward Witwood. Gracchus angrily glanced at the departing banner for the last time: "Next winter, the warriors of the Red Horse Clan will celebrate your death!" )