dmims Chapter 200 The Current Situation of the Military Camp
Chapter 200 The Current Situation of the Military Camp
Chapter 131 The Current Situation of the Military Camp
Inside the tent, only the oppressive air and Marcus's pacing remained.
The guards and officers had already been dismissed, and the broken wooden benches lay in the corner, like the embers of the thunderous rage that had just erupted.
Marcus Varro stood alone in front of a huge battle map.
His fingers, rough and calloused, were pressed firmly on the unmarked area of Valantis, a region on the map that symbolized "safety."
"I told you back then—" he said through gritted teeth.
"The homeland, absolutely, absolutely must have a sufficient and reliable garrison! Especially when we are actively venturing into this muddy land of the disputed territory!" His finger suddenly traced the long dotted line on the map from Valantis City to the disputed territory.
"Do they really think the Kingdom of the Third Daughter is like those small border states that can be easily pushed to the ground? Expecting them to be quickly defeated? Naive!"
"A protracted war would be a nightmare! It would mean the legion is stuck in the quagmire of the Kingdom of the Three Daughters, while the border fortresses in other regions need guards, the slaves in various places need pacification, the shipping on the Lorne River needs protection, and those city-states and tribes that have just been pacified need to be kept a close eye on!"
He sneered, a laugh devoid of any warmth, filled only with endless mockery and self-deprecation.
"And the result? Ha! Those wise men of the Senate, sitting by the fountain, eating honeyed figs, drinking ice wine from golden cups, with glittering wealth, empty promises of alliances, and friendships that may not even last a few days," thought they had appeased the ambitious men of Slaver's Bay and pacified the greedy wolves of the Dothraki seas! "Let us go to war with peace of mind."
"They pounded on the sandalwood tables, standing in the marble-cast Senate, and assured me with absolute certainty—Marcus, the heartland is safe! Your mission is the front lines, victory, and to utterly crush the arrogance of the Three Daughters Kingdom! We have everything in the rear—money, diplomacy!"
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"That's why I insist on keeping people here! Even if it's just a whole legion, no, even half a legion, even if it's just a few thousand veterans who are familiar with the terrain and are loyal and reliable, stationed at key points!"
"It's not to prevent a large-scale invasion by foreign enemies, but to deal with the current situation—when our main force is temporarily tied down, or like now, when a bunch of lunatics unexpectedly poke into our weak spot!"
He pointed to the winding, daring red line on the map that symbolized the route of Tiberius's army's frenzied advance.
"Now, all it takes is a few thousand men! A few thousand reckless mercenaries, adventurers, bankrupt nobles, and foreign savages—a rabble! Just because they have a daring leader, a clever, cunning lad, and with our own foolish cooperation (he thought of Lucius and Varro), and that damned stroke of luck"—they can turn our heartland upside down! Raid manors! Threaten shipping lanes! Even plant their flags at Longbridge! And finally—bury our entire main legion on the Canney River!"
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and felt as if the murky air inside the tent carried the smell of defeat and death.
"The Senate, with their shortsightedness and arrogance, has driven a nail into the coffin of our main force! What idiots!"
Gaius Aurus, the chief secretary of the Fifteenth Legion [Tower Guard], a middle-aged man with a thin face and sharp eyes like an accountant, was the first to break the oppressive silence in the meeting on the second day.
He had a newly compiled summary of the battle report spread out in front of him, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the leather cover.
"Your Excellency, the preliminary analysis of battle damage and battlefield reconstruction is complete." His voice was calm, even carrying an almost cold objectivity.
It was this cold objectivity that made him a competent chief clerk; a staff officer is supposed to be absolutely calm.
"Putting aside positions and outcomes, I must admit that the enemy's tactical maneuvering on the banks of the Cannae—especially that of the young commander Tiberius Mod—was nothing short of brilliant."
"The use of terrain, the timing, the deployment of troops—every step was executed at the most critical juncture. General Varro's recklessness and Lucius's ignorance and recklessness were certainly the main reasons, but the enemy's cunning and audacity far exceeded any of our previous assessments."
This analysis, so calm it bordered on praising the enemy, seemed to lower the temperature inside the tent by several degrees. The legion commanders had different expressions; some frowned, while others seemed lost in thought.
At this moment, the chief priest of the Seventeenth Legion [Zealots] spoke.
He was dressed in a simple black robe with red trim, his bald head gleaming, and his skin etched with scriptures. He was known for his fervent faith and kindness, but at this moment he was shrouded in a deep worry.
"Your Excellency, my concern now is not with tactics. After all, the enemy's strength is far weaker than ours. My chaplains and warriors are currently doing their best to reassure the soldiers, but the lightning strike from Canni has had a very negative impact."
"Some soldiers are talking about the lightning in private," he said in a low voice.
"Panic and superstition are growing, and the worship of heresy is even beginning to emerge! Our pastors are preaching with all their might, explaining to them that these are false miracles of other gods, while the Lord of Light, R'hllor, brings purification, rebirth, order, and light with His flames!"
"His grace is manifested in unwavering will, collective glory, and dedication to the cause of justice, not in this abruptness,
"A celestial phenomenon of tyranny, existing only for destruction! That's the trick of a false god. The current difficulties are merely a test of the purity of our faith by the Lord of Light!"
He looked at Marcus with a pleading look in his eyes: "Rumors and panic are like weeds, requiring a stronger force to eradicate them. I worry that some weak-willed individuals, and even some officers, might be swayed by these rumors."
Marcus nodded slowly.
"I understand your concerns, Priest. Once the defenses of faith are breached, it is more terrible than the collapse caused by swords."
He looked at an attendant beside him.
"Order that the Eighth Legion [The Just], in conjunction with the Seventeenth Legion's accompanying chaplains, immediately conduct a purge and control of speech throughout the entire army. Anyone spreading panic, disseminating rumors of divine protection, or undermining morale, regardless of rank, will be punished as if they were spreading wartime narratives of defeat, disrupting morale, or practicing heresy."
"Priest, give the military judge a list of those you deem 'too heretical' or 'disruptive to morale,' whether soldiers or officers."
A ruthless glint appeared on his face.
"The military police will make them understand what to believe and what to say in the legions of Valantis."
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He paused, then added, "Priest, positive guidance needs to be strengthened. Tell the soldiers that General Varro's defeat stemmed from disobeying sound orders and being too eager for quick results, which gave the enemy an opportunity."
"And that lightning, according to your interpretation, was a false miracle," a trial by the Lord of Light, a clumsy trick by the other gods to shake our faith in the Lord of Light. Tell the soldiers that our strength lies in unity, discipline, and unwavering faith in the Lord of Light! Victory will surely belong to the side that is better prepared and more resolute in its belief."