Imperator: Resurrection of an Empire

The first signs of the Greecian army came just after dawn three days later.

A scout burst into Julius' tent, breathless and pale-faced, dirt streaked across his armour.

He barely saluted before blurting out his report.

"They're here, sire,"

the scout said, voice shaking.

"The Greecians… they're far more than we expected."

Julius stiffened, setting down the map he'd been studying.

His eyes narrowed.

"How many?"

The scout hesitated, as if afraid to speak the words.

"At least a hundred thousand, sire. Maybe more."

For a heartbeat, there was silence in the tent.

Even the air seemed to be still.

Julius' jaw tightened, but his expression didn't waver.

"More than double what we expected,"

he muttered, almost to himself.

"Perhaps more than that."

General Haddin, standing at Julius' side, swore under his breath.

"One hundred thousand against our five thousand? Damn it, Julius. That's not an army—they've brought the entire nation against us."

Julius took a slow, measured breath, his mind already working through the implications.

"Have they made camp?"

he asked the scout.

"Yes, sire,"

the scout confirmed.

"Two leagues to the north, just beyond the river. They've begun assembling their battle lines, they should be here within a few hours."

Julius nodded, his tone turning brisk and authoritative.

"You've done well. Rest for now. You'll be needed again soon."

The scout saluted and retreated from the tent, leaving Julius and Haddin alone.

The weight of the news hung heavy between them.

"One hundred thousand,"

Haddin repeated, his tone grim.

"If they charge us all at once—"

"They won't,"

Julius interrupted, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

"A force that large is a beast with too many heads. It takes time to move them, to organize their ranks. If they attack, it'll be in waves. And that's exactly what we've prepared for. And beyond that, most of the 'soldiers' in that army are going to be citizens pressed into combat with little to no experience fighting at all."

Haddin stared at him, his skepticism plain.

"You still think we can hold this hill?"

Julius turned to the map on the table, tracing his finger along the ridgelines and slopes they'd spent the few days graced to them fortifying.

"We don't have a choice. If we retreat, they'll cut us down in the open. If we surrender, they'll slaughter us anyway. This hill is our best chance to break them. And we will break them. An army that large means they can't wait on a siege they'll starve themselves long before we would."

The older general studied him for a long moment before giving a curt nod.

"Then we hold. But I'll say this, Julius: If you've got any tricks left up your sleeve, now's the time to use them."

"Only one, we pick some of our fastest riders to head south then circle back north to meet up with the Auxillary force, the volunteers, and mercenaries will get their fill of blood when they come to our aid as we struggle to hold onto the hill.

The legion assembled at the summit of the hill as the Greecian army came into view.

From their elevated position, the Romanus soldiers could see the full expanse of the enemy force as it spilled across the plains below like a living tide.

Tens of thousands of men, a sea of spears and banners that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Their armour caught the morning light, a glimmering wave of bronze that seemed to dwarf the small Roman force perched atop the fortified hill.

The sight was enough to make even seasoned veterans falter.

Murmurs spread through the ranks, men exchanging uneasy glances.

Some tightened their grips on their weapons, while others whispered prayers to the gods.

Julius rode slowly along the line, his crimson cloak billowing in the breeze as it trailed behind him, his face calm and composed in contrast to his own men's worried looks.

He could feel the fear in his men—the creeping doubt that threatened to unravel their newly established discipline.

He knew he had to quash it before it took root spreading further worry and disent through the ranks.

He reined in his horse at the center of the lines and turned to face his soldiers, his voice carrying clear and strong across the ranks.

"Look at them,"

he called, gesturing toward the Greecian horde coming closer below.

"Look at their numbers. Let it sink in. Yes, they outnumber us. Ten to one? No. Twenty to one. No closer to One Hundred to one."

The murmurs grew louder, the tension rippling through the ranks like a tremor.

Julius raised his voice, cutting through the noise with the sharpness of a blade.

"But numbers alone do not win battles!"

he shouted.

"Look again. What do you see? Farmers holding spears. Merchants wearing borrowed armour. They are not an army—they are a mob, held together by desperation and false hope. Being brought to this battlefield through lies and force from their own leaders. They think they can crush us with sheer weight, but they know nothing of what it means to fight as we men and women of Romanus know!"

He stood tall in his saddle, his eyes blazing as he swept his gaze over his men.

"You are soldiers of the Eternal City! Discipline and steel flow in your veins. You have fought, bled, and triumphed on battlefields from the mountains of Bridget to the shores of Greecia. These Greecians—"

he spat the word with disdain—

"are nothing compared to the enemies you have already defeated."

The murmurs died down, replaced by a growing stillness.

Their king was right, what did they need to fear from this coming rabble, they had faced off against veteran armed forces, that also outnumbered them, so what if the enemy force was even greater if they didn't even know how to fight it was like storming an undefended city and slaughtering the inhabitants.

The men were listening now, their fear tempered by the fire being unleashed in Julius' voice.

"They think this hill will become our grave. Let them come to us thinking this. Let them throw their numbers at us and shatter like waves against the rock. We will not falter. We will not break. Today, we remind the world why the Romanus Legion is feared above all others in these lands!"

A cheer began to rise from the ranks, a little hesitant at first but growing louder with each passing moment as the feeling in the moment continued to infect even the most unstable of the rank and file.

Julius allowed it to build, then raised his hand for silence.

"Remember this: Every man who climbs this hill is one fewer man who will stand against us tomorrow. Every arrow you loose, every sword you swing—it all brings us closer to victory. Trust in the plan. Trust in each other. And trust in your commanders."

The cheer erupted again, stronger this time, rolling across the hilltop like thunder.