Rome Must Perish

The normally brave Andres was also horrified at this moment: the distance from here to the enemy’s encampment walls was more than 50 meters, yet the enemy’s short spears could still be thrown this far with such terrifying power!

Andres didn’t have time to think. He turned around to run back while shouting, "Quick! Retreat!—"

Just as the words left his mouth, a shadow flashed before his eyes, followed by a warrior’s wretched scream. This time, two warriors were skewered together by a short spear.

Then another spear came flying...

Fortunius saw that the short spear he shot out did not hit the enemy’s Great Chief, and he slapped his thigh in frustration, turning back a bit ashamedly to say, "Leader, I’ve only been using this crossbow for a few days, and I’m not fully accustomed to it yet—"

Maximus pointed forward, "He’s still there, you have another chance."

Fortunius immediately lay back behind the crossbow to aim, shouting, "Quickly open the bow! Prepare the spears!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw the left wooden tower shoot out a spear, followed by the right one. Apparently, the crossbow archers on these towers mimicked Fortunius after his shot, as the cavalry in front of the camp were also within their range.

"These guys dare to steal my credit!" Fortunius roared, then calmed down and squeezed the trigger after aiming again.

Quintus saw that the Pannonian cavalry in front of the camp was somewhat confused under the crossbow’s surprise attack and immediately suggested, "Leader, I think we can send some Centurions out of the camp to pursue them a little, boost our soldiers’ morale."