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墨書 Inktalez
Cyrus listened to the contemptuous words of the veteran towards Boudica and her supporters, feeling uncomfortable. These ruthless words seemed to degrade the rebels into a group of insignificant insects.
"Boudica They are all a bunch of damn animals, should have been wiped out long ago," the veteran spat out these words with disgust on his face.
Cyrus felt uneasy, but as a new recruit, he had only been assigned to this legion since the rebellion of Boudica. According to the hierarchy and rank system, he truly had no say. Therefore, he chose to cleverly change the subject.
"I heard that our Legio IX is also called the Ninth " Hispana " legion. Why is that?" Cyrus asked.
The old soldier smiled slightly, as if amused by the question. He pointed to the military flag fluttering in the camp, on which was embroidered an image of a fierce bull.
"Hah, that was a hundred years ago. Look at the bull on that flag, that's the symbol of our legion. Back then, Legio IX was established in Hispana, and after many battles, it ultimately gained a great reputation there. So people habitually referred to us as the Ninth ' Hispana' Legion."
Cyrus showed a strong interest in the veteran's explanation, feeling that this topic was more valuable than the previous discussions. "So, what important battles did our legion experience in Hispana?" he asked curiously.
The veteran's eyes lit up, as if this question had stirred up his deeply buried memories and pride. "Ah, that is a long history. Our Legio IX first participated in the conquest wars of Hispana. At that time, we faced the fierce Celtiberian and Iberian tribes. These tribal warriors had excellent tactics and knowledge of the terrain, causing the Roman army a lot of trouble. But after several decisive battles, they ultimately could not withstand our tactics and weapons."
The veteran paused for a moment, as if savoring that glorious yet bloody past. "After that, we were stationed in Hispana for many years, responsible for maintaining local security and order. Our legion was given the name ' Hispana' because we shed too much sweat and blood on that land. This name also represents our loyalty and courage to the Roman Empire."
Cyrus felt a surge of passion for the legion and this extended family. "So, will we have the same glory and achievements when we come to Britannia this time?"
The old soldier sighed softly, "Well, this can only be left to fate. But one thing I can be sure of is that no matter what difficulties and challenges we face, the Ninth ' Hispana' legion will remain loyal to Rome and march forward courageously."
The old soldier let out a deep, wide yawn, as if to blow away the fatigue of the day. He stretched vigorously, raising his arms high, and every muscle in his body seemed to emit a subtle creaking sound. "Ah, these old stories, now when I think back, can only be used as cannon fodder for evening reminiscences." His tone was slightly weary, like a history book that had traveled a long river, filled with dusty pages and a faint ink fragrance.
He waved his hand, looking as if he knew everything, then sighed heavily, as if that breath contained the smoke and mist of countless battles. "Our forces are no longer what they used to be, far from the glory of the past." A hint of confusion appeared in his eyes. "The day that could rebuild us and bring us back to glory seems like a dream that will never come true."
He slowly stood up, patting the dirt off his pants, then turned to look at the soldiers gathered around the campfire, especially at Cyrus. "Young man, this world is full of variables. You must be prepared at all times, but don't forget to enjoy every moment of the present. That is the true meaning of living."
Upon finishing speaking, he slowly turned around, his steps firm yet unhurried, and walked towards his own tent. His figure gradually blurred at the entrance of the tent, and finally disappeared into the night, as if merging into the dark earth and starry sky.
Cyrus stared unwaveringly at the old soldier's departing figure, a hint of determination flashing in his eyes. He silently vowed that, regardless of what the future may hold, he would steadfastly stand by Legion commander Pluto's side, becoming his most reliable support.
Next, several other veterans also stood up one by one. They may not have experienced as much as the previous veteran, but each of their faces bore different forms of weariness and pressure. Silently, they walked towards their respective tents, their figures disappearing into the darkness until the entire camp returned to the tranquility of the night.
Cyrus gathered his tumultuous thoughts and turned to enter his own tent. Lying on the simple bed, he closed his eyes, trying to relax. However, at the moment he was about to fall asleep, the uncertainty of the future and the memories of the past still lingered in his mind for a while. These thoughts were like unsolved mysteries, waiting for him to unravel them in the days to come.
Pluto stood in front of a huge wooden map table, on which lay an exquisite map of Britain. Inside the brightly lit meeting tent, other centurions and senior Generals gathered one by one, fully armed and with serious expressions.
"Everyone, this expedition is personally commanded by Governor Agulicola. Our main task is to suppress the north of Britain to ensure the smooth advance of the main forces," Pluto began in a calm tone.
A centurion immediately asked, "What kind of people are the British? I heard they are savage and dangerous, we cannot show them any mercy."
Pluto felt a bit displeased, but he remained calm and replied, "The British do have their own culture and customs, which may not necessarily align with Roman standards. But we cannot generalize about all of them. Our mission is to suppress rebellion, not to exterminate them."
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