Augustus Road

Over there, Caesar's face was sideways. The chair under him had been overturned by himself. He was lying on the ground, his legs twitching constantly. It was seen that he tried to tilt his eyes and look up. His hands were still trying to grab the edge of the table, but soon the table was overturned by him. Julius Caesar was like a drowning man at this time, panting, his chin raised with difficulty, his eyes staring at Lepidus standing at the door of the tent. Although he couldn't speak, the subtext was clearly:

"Help me."

There was still a lot of noise outside, which set off the weird atmosphere in the tent. On one side, Caesar kept curling up and straightening his body; on the other side, Lepidus looked at him with a lost look, his eyes flashing with a dull breath, hesitant and a little cold. The only sound left was the sound of tables and chairs falling over and shaking, but this atmosphere actually lasted less than ten seconds. Caesar was in a trance and saw Lepidus, who was wearing a robe, slowly approaching him. His black pupils flashed his miserable struggle, as if he was watching a circus, or like a famous lady examining her patient. After an unknown amount of time, the other party still stretched out his hand...

When the generals came in, Caesar had already recovered his normal demeanor, but he was slumped in the armchair, his face was pale and sweating. All the lieutenants and chief centurions asked Caesar to give orders in unison, whether to move the camp to Napo or to make other plans for the siege of Masseria. "To the west of Masseria, it is said that Triari has occupied a commanding height, which is very close to one of your siege equipment fields. Send someone to take it down immediately. I will take the rest of the legions to watch the battle from behind." Caesar gave this order very weakly.

"That commanding height controls the street. The city thought that if they maintained this position, they could get supplies from Spain. But they were wrong. I didn't use force at all..."

"No, you must use force, because I want new legionnaires to see how the old troops fight." Caesar's nasal voice was very muddy, wrapped in a cloak, but his order was unquestionable. It seemed that epilepsy was now tormenting his nerves crazily.

"Yes, I will obey your orders, Your Excellency the noble consul." Lepidus agreed.

At dawn, the Renus River flowed to a river in Masseria. It was turbid and swollen due to last night's rain. Behind the misty fog, a few furlongs away from the river, on a high hill covered with trees, Caesar and all the lieutenants, flag bearers and chief centurions stood on a gentle slope, staring at the siege camp of Lepidus' army in front of them. It seemed that there was nothing new except the smoke and the sound of the military trumpet. The high ground previously occupied by Triali was like a nail stuck on the side of the siege position. Several centurions began to speak, and Caesar looked in the direction of their fingers, and saw a team of Masseria cavalrymen holding flags and trumpets in the wilderness beside the river. As usual, they began to run around the enemy camp, half patrolling and half seizing opportunities - during this period of time. Small cavalry outpost battles often broke out between the two sides, which was commonplace, and today seemed to be no exception.

Sure enough, soon a team of cavalrymen rushed out from the gate of Lepidus' camp, shouting words and slogans that no one could understand. These were obviously the Matthias cavalrymen from the Caucasus, about two or three hundred people, divided into several squadrons, and rushed towards the Masseria cavalry.

The Masseria cavalry then drew their short swords, dodging the arrows shot by the Matians while changing their formations, preparing to approach for hand-to-hand combat. However, as the distance got closer and closer, they clearly saw that the enemy's cavalry team was actually carrying the legion's tasseled flag. This was not normal. Why would the flag representing the enemy's commander-in-chief appear among this wing of troops?

At this moment, even Triari, who was also watching the battle in the high camp, was puzzled. Finally, he understood the strangeness - because under the flag, it was indeed Lepidus himself. He actually led a wing of Matians to charge and fight?

But the man looked genuine, including the blue feathers on his helmet, which were personally awarded by Ptolemy of Egypt, and the eye-catching cloak embroidered with scarabs, and the gilded baton hanging on the saddle, all of which were genuine.

So Triari personally led the remaining 400 cavalrymen and 800 light infantrymen, most of whom were Masserias, and shouted down the hill. He instinctively felt that since the enemy's general had come, it meant that the opportunity for war had arrived. He couldn't let him come and go as he pleased!

"Triari! The murderer who killed the tribune is over there." Lepidus was particularly jealous when he saw him. He took out his baton and pointed directly at Triari who was galloping across the street and shouted, "Follow me and capture him!" Although the Matians didn't understand what the commander-in-chief was saying, they knew what he meant by this situation, so they all waved their double-headed spears together, and more than a thousand horse hooves flew mud on the mud and rushed over.

Triari kept gesturing to the back, and the bugler beside him was also blowing hard, which was a tactic that required the light infantry to encircle the opponent from both wings.

Then, from a distance, Caesar saw the dazzling tactics of the Matthias cavalry under Lepidus. They were simply teasing the cavalry under Triari. The Matthias divided the formation into a "three-scale" shape. The first row all used composite bows, stood still, and shot arrows like rain to stop the charge of the Triari cavalry. Once the Triari cavalry rushed forward with shields raised and prepared to fight with the Matthias, the "two scales" behind suddenly came out from both wings, expelled Triari's light infantry, and made a move to cut into their rear and return.

After several rounds of back and forth, Triari could no longer bear it and began to change the front team to the rear team, preparing to return to the camp and stop fighting. On the hillside where he retreated, about three battalions of infantry had already lined up out of the camp very vigilantly, ready to support him. But at this time, Lepidus had no intention of stopping, but directly chased after him and launched a fierce attack. Alp, who was riding beside Lepidus, immediately shot a whistling arrow into the sky.

The shrill and sharp sound resounded throughout the sky of the battlefield.

At this time, countless groups of cavalry rushed out from behind the dense forests, dams, camps, and high slopes. They had a tacit understanding, just like ants in the same anthill, accurately combining from small teams to large teams, and then followed Lepidus with his cloak fluttering, and rushed towards Triari's camp.

This kind of smooth transition from defense to offense and the means of moving and gathering offensive forces cannot be formed without three to five years. Caesar, under the eagle flag, expressed admiration to the generals and officers around him, while revealing some complex emotions, "Is it because of the thick fog? I can't see Lepidus clearly."