On the other side, Caesar faced sideways. The seat under him has been knocked over by himself. He is on the ground, his legs twitching constantly. It can be seen that he is trying hard to tilt his eyes upwards, and his hands try to grab the edge of the table, but soon the table is also overturned by him. Julius Caesar is like a drowning person at this time, gasping for breath, his chin is raised with difficulty, and his eyes can see that he is staring at Li Bida standing at the door of the tent. Although he can't speak, the subtext is clearly:

"Help me. The chapters are updated the fastest"

There was still a lot of people outside, which set off the strange atmosphere in the tent. On the one hand, Caesar kept curling up and stretching out again; On the other hand, Li Bida looked at him in dismay, with a dazed breath in his eyes, hesitating and a little cold. The only thing left was the sound of tables and chairs shaking around, but the atmosphere actually lasted less than ten seconds. In Caesar's trance, he saw Li Bida wearing a robe slowly walking towards him. His miserable struggle flashed in his black pupils, as if he was watching a circus, and it was like a man who was looking at his patient. I don't know how long it took, but the other party still stretched out his hand...

When the generals came in, Caesar had returned to his normal expression, but he was in the chair, his face was pale and sweating profusely. All the deputy generals and the chief centurion asked Caesar to issue an order, whether to move the camp to Napo, or to plan another siege for the Marcelia siege.

"In the west of Marcelia, it is said that Triali has guarded a commanding height, which is very close to one of your besieged equipment fields. I will immediately send someone to take it down and I will take the rest of the army behind to watch the battle." Caesar issued this order weakly.

"That commanding height is the one that controls the streets. The city thought that if you keep this position, you can get supplies from Spain. But they were wrong. I don't use force at all..."

"No, you have to use force, because I want new corps soldiers and see how the old corps fight." Caesar's nasal voice was muddy, wrapped in a cloak, but the order was unquestionable. It seemed that epilepsy was now tormenting his nerves frantically.

"Yes, follow your orders. Your noble consul." Li Bida agreed.

At dawn, the Renus River flowed toward Marcelia, which rose turbidly due to the rain last night. After the hazy mist, several furlongs were far away from the river, and a high hill full of trees. Caesar and all the deputy generals, flag officers and chief centurions stood on the gentle slope, staring at the siege camp of the Libida army ahead, as if there was nothing new except for the smoke and the sound of military horns, and the high ground occupied by Triali was inserted on the side of the siege position like a nail.

Several centurions began to speak, and Caesar looked in the direction of their fingers, but saw a team of Marcellian cavalry in the wilderness by the river, holding flags and trumpets, as usual, starting to run around the enemy camp, half patrol and half capture fighters - this was a common occurrence for both sides to frequently break out in such small cavalry outposts, and today seems no exception.

Sure enough, a team of cavalry came out of the gate of Libida's camp, shouting loudly about words and trumpets that no one could understand. These were obviously the Mathian cavalry from the Caucasus, about two or three hundred people, divided into several squadrons, and rushed towards the Maserian cavalry.

The Marcellan cavalry then drew out their short swords, avoiding the arrows shot by the Mathians, while changing their formations and preparing to approach hand-to-hand combat. However, as the distance got closer, they clearly saw that the opponent's cavalry team was actually holding the flag of the legion with tassels. This was not normal. Why did the flag representing the enemy commander appear among this wing of men?

At this moment, even Terry Ali, who was also watching the battle in a high camp, was puzzled. Finally, he understood something strange - because under the flag, it was indeed Li Bida himself, and he actually charged forward with a wing of the Mathians?

But the man looked like a fake, including the blue feather on his helmet, which was admired by Ptolemy, and the striking cloak embroidered with scarabs and the gilded baton hanging on the saddle. All of them were like a fake.

So Triali personally led the remaining four hundred cavalry and eight hundred light infantry, most of which were Marcellians, and rolled down the hills with a shout. He instinctively felt that since the opponent's general was coming, it meant that the fighter plane was coming. He could not let him come freely and freely and leave as he said he would go!

"Tri Ali! The murderer who killed the civil guard is there." Li Bida was particularly jealous when he saw him. He took out his baton and pointed directly at the galloping Tri Ali across the street and shouted, "Follow me and capture him!" Although the Mathians couldn't understand what the commander-in-chief was saying, the fools knew what they were referring to in this situation, so they all danced their double-headed spears, and more than a thousand horses' hooves flew over the mud and rushed over.

Terry Ali kept gestured to the back, and the trumpeter beside him was also blowing hard, which was a tactic for light infantry to encircle the other side from both wings.

Then, Caesar in the distance saw the dazzling tactics of the Mathia cavalry under Libida. They were simply teasing the cavalry of Triali, but they saw that the Mathia people divided the formation into "three scales", and the first row used compound bows, stood still, and arrows were like rain, to stop the charge of Triali cavalry. Once the Triali cavalry held up their shields and were preparing to fight with the Mathia people, the "two scales" behind suddenly ran out from both wings, expelled Triali's light infantry, and made the move to detour into the way back.

After several rounds of tug-of-war, Terry Ali couldn't stand it anymore and began to change the front team to the back team, preparing to return to the camp to stop the battle. On the hillside of his retreat, about three brigades of infantry were already alert to line up to pick him up. But at this time, Li Bida had no intention of seeing a good chance, but chased him directly and launched a fierce attack. And Alp, who was riding a horse beside Li Bida, immediately shot an arrow in the sky.

A shrill and sharp voice resounded throughout the sky on the battlefield.

At this time, behind the dense forest, embankment, camp, and high slopes, countless groups of cavalry surged out when they heard the sound. They had a very tacit understanding. They were like ants in the same ant hole, accurately grouped from the team into a brigade, and followed Li Bida, who was fluttering in the cloak, and rushed over to Terri Ali's camp.
Chapter completed!