Chapter 30 – I am here to claim your heads!

The sky slowly brightened as the sun dawned from the east.

After around an hour, the moderate villa was turned upside down. The undefended villa was subjugated within minutes. The population of the villa was 50, but it was mixed, with 8 family units, including the on-site manager, a freedman villicus, and his family, who worked for a wealthier owner living in the nearby city.

Due to this, there were barely 12 adult men fit enough to offer resistance. Even the Villicus was barely a Junior Warrior. Of course, most of them didn't even dare to resist, surrendering immediately or after seeing several retreating people get slaughtered as a demonstration, including a boy. After all, they were slaves, property, not fighters. Most were even born into slavery, so they were used to being slaves.

As for the villicus, he was, of course, killed in front of the slaves as part of the demonstration, and his wife and children were taken as captives, planned to be then resold to unscrupulous slave traders... or used as slaves by themselves or traded with other tribes.

Overall, among the survivors, they captured 9 adult men, 12 adult women, 9 boys, 10 girls, and 3 elderly people. There was a total of 43 out of 50.

In fact, the most valuable thing in this raid wasn't the cattle or the paltry money and metal tools in the villa... but the slaves themselves!

How much was a slave worth? While he wasn't a trader, Fredilli interacted with merchants who traded with the Romans, including two in his village.

The base price of a slave was about 400 denari in the limes due to proximity to a semi-steady supply, and prices fluctuated from there based on age, skill, education, appearance, health, languages, and origin.

Of course, Fredilli didn't have the leisure to evaluate these captives. Instead, he needed to consider the practicality first.

Fredilli looked at the tied captives who knelt in a row, specifically at the elderly and toddlers among them, his eyes emotionless, cold, and calculating.

The elderly were difficult to transport and were worthless. Moreover, if they just left them behind, they would inform the coming guards about their direction of retreat. This was a needless risk.

As for the young children below 7, although they had investment potential, they were a liability. They could try to run or start crying, and needed the constant care of the mother. Their worth was also much lower since they were more prone to die, and infants were sometimes so worthless that they were given for free! Naturally, they were also risky to leave alive...

Naturally, for the success of this raid and to retain the most profit, he had to dispose of the worthless baggage.

"Kill him... him... this one... him..." Fredilli said while walking, pointing at anyone he saw as a liability.

While the slaves didn't understand what he said, when raiders came to drag the old and young with vicious looks, even snatching an infant from his mother's arms, they realized what was going on.

"N-No! Please!"

"Waaa!"

"It hurts! It hurts!"

"I don't wanna die!"

The fathers and mothers also began to beg.

"Please, don't! I beg you!"

"Not my baby!"

"Sister, no!"

"Not my son!"

But it was useless. They could only see the bloody and cold-hearted spectacle unfold as axes, spears, and swords were raised and dropped.

Splat* Splat* Splat*

After a short burst of sickening sounds, all that they heard was the sobbing sounds of the slaves, too afraid to put up resistance.

Fredilli then looked at the 31 remaining chattels before speaking in heavily accented Latin, the language of the Romans, which he learned from his wife and tribesmen.

"Now, you must follow us on foot. If you can't keep up, we'll kill you like them. Understand?" Fredilli said as clearly as he could. After all, they were living merchandise, and he didn't want to lose them over unclear instructions.

The slaves lowered their heads, understanding his words even if they didn't want to.

Fredilli then looked at the other spoils. These included 100 cattle, and carts loaded with sacks of cereal and metal tools. All combined, they were likely worth around three-quarters of the surviving slaves. As for money, they had a small stash worth 600 denari, a paltry sum.

"Well, it will suffice." He thought.

"War leader, can I have this one?" Suddenly, a young voice broke his line of thought.

Looking to the side, he saw Eldegeses, whose spear was covered in blood after mercilessly executing an elderly woman, excitedly pointing at a rather pretty young woman of Quadi descent. After being pointed at, the girl shook in fear.

"Don't sing your triumph before victory, boy. Wait until we return with all the spoils... But if she makes it, I will give you priority." Fredilli nodded.

"Thank you, war leader!" Eldegeses happily said.

"War Leader, we should start moving before the Romans can react." Rodemirus, Fredilli's eldest son, reminded.

"I know." Fredilli nodded.

Just as he was about to start issuing orders...

Dadada* Dadada* Dadada*

"ROMAN PATROL ON THE EAST!" Teodulfus rode back in haste and shouted.

Fredilli's heart sank, his eyes widening in shock.

"Impossible! How can they react so fast?!"

But despite this, his experience kept him cool-headed as he barked orders while putting on his helmet.

"Footmen, Shield Wall! Horsemen, to the flanks!" He yelled, placing himself at the head, shield up while facing the east.

Immediately, the Quadi robbers joined the formation, holding spears, axes, hammers, and swords, waiting for the enemy to arrive. The other 11 horsemen also went to the flanks, preparing for battle. Although they were mainly footmen, they were also good horsemen.

"Teodulfus! How many?!" Fredilli inquired, eyes focused on the east.

"I-I only saw one patrol, so I immediately came back to report! I don't know if there is anyone else!" Teodulfus hurriedly reported.

Hearing this, the raiders looked at one another, not knowing what to make of it.

Lone Roman scouts were not unheard of, but to consciously track them like this seemed suicidal unless backed up by reinforcements.

Naturally, Fredilli also frowned. His experience told him that something wasn't right.

"Is there an ambush? Or is the main army behind him, and he is just the scout?"

"Are you sure it is just one?! Didn't you hear or see anything else?" Fredilli inquired.

However, Teodulfus shook his head.

"No, just one! He looked young, but he wore better armor than regular scouts. He even had a straight red and white plum on his helmet!" Teodulfus said.

This made Fredilli even more cautious and confused.

"A young Legionary Optio took the lead?! Alone?! Why?! Isn't he supposed to lead his Century?! No... why is he even riding a horse? Is he some rapid-response officer?"

Then, he thought of many possibilities.

"Right... There must be an ambush. Perhaps he took the lead alone and then sent his cavalry to flank us while we were distracted with him. Or perhaps he wants to bait us into an ambush... Or perhaps, he wants to monitor and harass us to prevent our escape? Tricky bastard..."

As for the Optio wanting to kill them all alone, he never imagined it. Even an Extraordinary Warrior wouldn't dare face them all, and from experience, Optios are only Veteran Warriors at most, with rare exceptions being Elite Warriors. Unless they encountered an Epic Warrior, he was confident that they could win against any other suicidal idiot.

But Epic Warriors were not cabbages! In a whole legion, it would be good if they had a single Epic Warrior, often a war-wary veteran of many battles, and he wouldn't casually leave the fort, and he wouldn't be as his son described.

Of course, if he were like Vilesinda, then things would make sense... But how could such a god-gifted person lower himself to a scout and even hunt down a small band of raiders?

And even assuming that he is indeed that gifted, wouldn't he be mobilized with the rest of his legion? Why is he staying here, where there is barely any glory, wealth, or merit to seek? Just to kill poor raiders?

Hence, he changed his orders on the spot.

"Break formation! Six horsemen on the right, go and kill the scout! If he retreats or you spot an ambush, don't chase and return! The other six horsemen, you scout our immediate surroundings to check for an ambush! Everyone else, drag the captives and abandon everything else! We are on a forced march!"

Since there was a risk of discovery, he had to abandon the cargo, only taking the valuable slaves. Although it was a pity, half the loot was better than no loot.

Immediately, the formation broke as six horsemen charged forward. Meanwhile, the other six, including his son, surrounded them from a distance to check for movement.

At the same time, several raiders went to the captives and dragged them up.

"Stand up, shut up, and keep up, or die!" One of them brutally said.

The captives had no choice but to comply. They silently stood up and followed their captors.

Seeing this, Fredilli nodded and motioned.

"Forward! Back to the river!"

"Now, let's see what the Romans have in store for us..." He thought as he led his warband eastward.

But just a minute later-

Dadada* Dadada* Dadada*

Dadada* Dadada* Dadada*

"Hm? Did they kill him? Or did he retreat? But why do I hear only two horses?" Fredilli frowned.

And then, he saw it. One of the riders rode his pony back with a panicked look, as if he saw a terrible monster. Immediately, his heart sank again.

Among the horsemen, two were Veteran Warriors. Even an Elite Warrior wouldn't be able to dispatch them so easily.

And then, the horseman's words came, causing everyone's faces to lose color.

"He killed them! He killed everyone in seconds!" The rider shouted in panic.

And then, Fredilli saw the Roman rider, charging behind.

"Extraordinary Warrior! Must be!" Fredilli's face hardened.

"Form line and advance! We meet the—"

But just as Fredilli was about to finish barking orders...

Woosh* Thud*

To everyone's horror, they saw the horseman's chest being pierced from behind by a javelin, eyes full of despair.

"R-Run..." The rider squeezed his last words as he fell from his galloping pony.

Thud*

The 54 raiders and 31 captives looked at the dropped cavalryman, who had been sniped by the Roman scout fifty meters away, who slowly stopped his galloping horse.

Fredilli's expression turned even uglier. He knew that the range of a javelin was, at most, two dozen meters. Perhaps some elites might manage to throw it 30-40 meters, but it wasn't accurate. But now, on a galloping horse, he managed to snipe another rider on a galloping horse?!

Moreover, he couldn't sense his fighting spirit. This could only mean one thing-

"Extraordinary Warrior! And he is a top-tier one, at that!"

"SHIELD WALL! PREPARE JAVELINS!" He loudly ordered.

His fellow tribesman immediately got into formation, taking out their javelins. If this Roman horseman got into range, they would throw them.

"ARCHERS! AT THE READY!" He gave his second order.

The 10 archers they brought stood behind them, readying their bows.

"HORSEMEN! MAINTAIN VIGILANCE AND STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

Within a dozen seconds, they were ready to meet this lone but terrible enemy.

Fredilli calmed his breath as he looked at this pretender with a blood-wet longsword who dressed like a mere Optio, but was likely some secret powerhouse in the fortress.

Having some warrior honor in his blood and wanting to glean some useful information if his enemy was arrogant, Fredilli called out in Latin.

"Who are you, mighty warrior?! Why are you here, and not leading your troops?!"

Hearing this, the Roman tilted his head, a playful smile forming on his lips as he casually dismounted his horse, confidently walking forward several steps, before stopping next to the dropped horseman.

"These are all of you, I assume?" The Roman spoke out in a relaxed tone, casually wiping the blood from his longsword on the horseman's shirt. He didn't even have a shield.

Fredilli frowned, tightening the grip on his weapon. He didn't like this man's attitude. It was too relaxed, as if he were going to pick vegetables in the garden.

The man then glanced at the captives. A few braver ones nodded.

"Pity... I hoped for two dozen more. But a harvest is a harvest." The legionary shook his head, as if it were a real shame.

"What do you mean?!" Fredilli gritted his teeth, feeling insulted.

"Even if you are an Extraordinary Warrior, do you think we are just wheat you can harvest?!"

And sure enough, he got his answer.

The Legionary raised his longsword, pointing it at them, and arrogantly spoke.

"I am Kyris Damiran Apollox, Optio Castrorum of Legio II Adiutrix! And I am here to claim your heads!"

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