"People who are not good-looking always suffer more." - The famous Greek general Philopol

Adianna was stunned for a moment, and then said with a unique laugh that coexists with nobility and contempt, "What's the name? I'm so laughing."

"Don't laugh! My name was Li Bida. I had my own clan and home. I was a free and noble person. At least my identity was not inferior to you, Your Majesty. Now the slaves are just confined to a certain identity of mine. But I am different from Demethrius. I am not a natural slave, and I am not willing to be a slave forever - please don't seek happiness for me, and I'm poaching. In addition, that night, I did it as a kiss with you!"

The princess's face was a little unnatural, and the originally fluent and elegant Greek language started to stumble, "Bold, overbearing gangster..."

But Karabis ignored her anymore, packed up her things, and went back alone.

The dawn began to rise and the stars had not yet sunk. In front of the campfire in the camp, Lukulas knelt in front of the statue of the niche and kept praying. Then Kelly handed over an ivory sword. Lukulas took it, slapped it on his waist, stood up, walked to the mirror, several slaves helped him put on his armor, cloak, shin, and wrist guards. Finally, Kelly handed over the coach's gorgeous helmet.

After he was dressed up, Lukuras saw Karabis standing aside, and took out a piece of clothing from the box under the mirror and handed it to him. Karabis took it and opened it and saw it was a half-old dark red cloak, quite thick.

"Carabis, my son, I am very sorry. Today I have not thought of a better gift for you. This is the war against the Massi twenty years ago (the war of the ancient Rome, that is, the war with the city of Rome in order to win the citizenship of Rome, and the city of Rome, and the city of Latin was defeated in the Latin League, but obtained permanent citizenship). Wearing things, don't worry, it is worthless, but very warm - quite suitable for today's weather."

Karabis wrapped his cloak on his body gratefully, then Lukuras nodded to everyone, "Life and death are determined by fate, but victory is achieved by himself." After speaking, he turned around and walked out with great strides. Kelly, Karabis and other personal slaves followed closely.

The snow last night was always dotted, not to the size, as if it brought some silver embellishments to the black land and the white camp tent, and thin snow was covered with thin snow everywhere. When Lukulas walked to the deer fort at the front of the camp, Murila was on standby at the exit in military uniform.

"Tegresetta, I'll leave it to you!" Lukulas passed by Murila and made an agreement to punch.

"Don't worry, no one of them can sneak out." Behind him, Murira's promise came.

At this time, the soldiers of the two legions on standby on the deer fort stood up under the command of the centurion and checked the swords and javelins. Lukulas passed through the soldiers with a expressionless face, "Oh, don't forget to promise the trophy of Nott Graceta."

"Your Excellency, don't let Amisus repeat it."

Someone said openly in the queue that the soldiers' helmets and armor were covered with frost and snow, and many of them stuffed leather, sponges or blankets into their clothes to protect them from the cold.

At the end, Secretreus, Pomponius, Claudi and other adjutants, the Spurs were jingling, and they were riding on horses, surrounded by elite Roman cavalry, eagle flags, scepters, and golden light. Lukulas then jumped on his mount, a white horse, and loudly ordered to all the generals:

"The first wave of attacks on the front is to be invested in two first teams!"

"The eighteen subsequent brigades, led by Pomponius, are pushed forward with all their strength."

"I, with the reckless man, Claudi, took the Thrace mercenaries and four brigades, and went to Hequ to the west, and squeezed the enemy from the flanks."

After the arrangement was completed, Lukulas's red cloak and tassels were flying in the cold wind. He drew out his sword and shouted to the entire army: "Brothers, we must win, we will win! God bless Rome!"

Ten thousand Roman soldiers held javelins and daggers together, shouting loudly - "God bless Rome!"

Suddenly, on the entire battlefield, there was murderous intent and a strong wind.

Adiana stood quietly on a tower in the camp, looking at the situation on the entire battlefield, but she still didn't believe it from the bottom of her heart. Lukuras, who had only twenty-four brigades, could defeat Tegranis, who had 200,000 troops.

Looking down from Adianna's perspective, the entire battlefield was split by a shallow river, but the river was bent in a hill, taking a "L" shape, and Tegranis's army set up an extremely large formation on the east side of the river.

The army of 200,000 barbarians, their speech and weapons were simply a furious ocean. Tegranis's camp and flag were surrounded by five hundred heavily armored cavalry guards on a high hill at the core of the lineup. The front of the river was densely lined with people, and the first line was the 10,000 Miti archers; the second line was the army of Codini and the Greek heavy armored mercenaries in Syria; the third line was the extremely large square formation of barbarian infantry that could not even be arranged in the squad, with more than 100,000 people. They not only blocked the command line of others, but also blocked the gaze of their own actions; the last line was the command center of Tegranis; the long extended wings were Armenian cavalry.

In order to prevent the Romans from attacking sideways in the west of the river bend, Tegranis was prepared. He asked the most elite Armenian guard cavalry to station on the hills in the river bend. Once the enemy crossed the river, they would charge and drive them all back to the river to annihilate them! On the other side of the hill was the same huge Armenian baggage camp, with tens of thousands of people, and the number of mules and horses was not much different from that of people, and it was sandwiched between the guard cavalry and the command center.

"Little Tegray, the Romans moved." Tegranis in the pure gold carriage suddenly became nervous because he saw the smoke and dust rolling in the Romans' positions, and then saw Lukulas leading a group of men running along the other side of the river.

But when he calmed down and began to estimate the number of Romans, he couldn't help but laugh: This team could only last for about 5,000 people, which was not enough for the number of Armenian first-line archers.

"Poor Romans, are they all?" Tegranis regained his spirit and laughed at the guards and favorites beside him.
Chapter completed!