Roma Invicta V (finale)

Written by Mikhail the Tiger

Edited by Cimar

Artwork by CJCO on DA, (AKA aureliano276 on Tumblr)

Judica was shaking. Sitting on the impromptu bench, rain splatters washing down on her armor plates. She looked at her own paws. Still bloody…. With the blood of barbarians, of her comrades… of her own…

They were safe now. And from a military point of view, the ambush was survived with resounding success. Not only with minimal casualties, but also killing or capturing the majority of the ambushers.

That's what Varrus, the bull Legate was saying anyway, to his bloody, shaken troops.

Kitus was standing by her, rubbing her shoulders to calm her down.

Despite the chaos, despite the battle beginning by watching ten of her comrades, some otters and bunnies, falling into a hidden pit of spikes, their screams reaching even the last Cohort in the back, despite the bellowing carnivores emerging from the foliage the moment after….were able to form a line and defend their position on both sides.

She was a new recruit, so she was in the front line, being the first to take the impact from predators covered in tribal paint and self-inflicted scars, weapons caked with incantations and blood. They poured from all directions, from trees, bushes, pits she hadn't seen and even from under the lake that was near them.

She hadn't even seen her first kill. She covered herself with the Scutum and only felt her Gladius piercing leather armor and going inside a slab of flesh, then something warm and sticky covering her paw and dribbling down to her legs, a brief scream of pain following it. She also felt the lifeless hunk of whatever predator it was rolling down after slamming him with the shield. She had no time to look at what her opponent was, as a lone bear charged the line of smaller legionaries, looking to cause panic and form a breach for his smaller comrades to take advantage of.

He had gnawed an otter that was next to her to shreds, armor and all. It took the entire front line, peppering him with stabs, slams of shields and the occasional thrown pila to his face. Yet they had managed to take the giant down, a few barbarians routing back inside the dark forest upon seeing their champion fallen.

Slam with the Scutum, turn your attention to the other opponent… The training rang into her head, reason and cool thinking trumping her brain's desperate begs at panic.

No matter how many came out of the foliage, no matter how frightened she was, no matter how much she wanted to retreat back into the lower ranks, no matter how she felt her stomach sinking to her feet, she held the line, interlocking her shield with the others, their combined effort pushing back the powerful, yet undisciplined warriors, little by little.

Kitus went through the heat of battle to the Balistae[0], Judica, Centurion Nicholaus and Mikhailus managing to hold back the barbarians just long enough for him to prime them and fire flaming bolts into the enemy lines, causing panic in their lower ranks.

Eventually, the massive tiger Centurion breached through the ambush, him and his cohort consisting of larger mammals wreaking havoc behind the front line, yet still maintained their positions without charging after the fleeing warriors or breaking line.

Learning how to face the enemy on all sides in case of an ambush and divide themselves into smaller, more manageable pockets was one of the first things she learned, almost immediately after they were taught how to march as a single unit.

There was no room for panic. Every eventuality they had been prepared for. The legionaries next to her had her back, no matter what. They were not individual soldiers. They were units. Cohorts, Centuries, and Legions.

Yet one particular member seemed quite keen for individual slaughter….

Legate Varrus jumped with his massive bulk in the middle of battle, landing on a bear and slitting his throat with the Gladius instantly, taking the massive predator's battleaxe in the next second.

Then he screamed. It was a warcry like none she had ever heard before. The combined screeches, howls and bellows of the bloodthirsty carnivores were nothing compared to the brown bull's screams. The canine barbarians around him froze. If they all converged on him at the same time, there was no way he could have held them off. Yet they froze. Fear, the very weapon they had at their disposal, was now being used against them.

Varrus had charged the wolves and coyotes that were right in front of him, impaling them with his horns before slamming them into a tree as he bullcharged them. He then swung the massive weapon around him, cleaving several barbarians literally off their feet.

It broke every single disciplinary rule the Legion had. Yet he was the Legate, what where they going to do, whip him?

That had been a boost for the troops' morale, cheering and pushing harder as they saw their leader cleaving through the fearsome barbarians like he was cutting through water.

Yet Judica saw something else…

She saw his eyes becoming completely blood-red. She saw him snap the neck of a young fox, no older than twenty, begging for mercy in his native tongue. She heard roars of a savage mammal and young barbarian soldiers running for their lives, dropping their weapons and shields in an effort to run away quicker.

The same way the town guard had all those months ago…

He had made it no secret to his Legionaries about how much he hated the barbarians. He used terms like lice, scum of the Earth, dust in their eyes and rabid monsters.

It was what he was telling himself as he cleaved younglings to ribbons….

Wildicus had told her about how he was nearly demoted after refusing to burn down a barbarian village. There were no warriors there. Elderly, women, and children, barricading themselves in their wood and crude stone houses, awaiting their end. Varrus had already made it his own duty to desecrate and destroy the altars in the middle of the once quiet village himself…. There were no butcheries or evidence that they followed the customs of their fellow barbarians. They were farmers.

Yet Varrus cared little about that…. They were all scum. They all deserved to die.

Even the ones who were genuinely thinking that they fought for their own freedom…. Which if Varrus came to be appointed governor after the conquest, their fears would definitely come to fruition.

And then it clicked. If Varrus had his way, their way of life, their freedoms, their gods would all be gone. Shrines would be destroyed and desecrated, ancient writings burned, villages destroyed to be rebuilt into Roman settlements…

But isn't that a good thing? A voice inside her head said.

These mammals needed Rome. Culture? What culture? Butchering prey mammals? Raiding?

After all, her own city had once been, not too long ago, part of a prey tribe. She couldn't possibly imagine her life without Roman ways now.

The same way these warriors couldn't imagine their life without their ways…

Her train of thought was interrupted by Centurion Wildicus approaching her and Kitus, the red crest of the fox's helmet being the first thing she noticed. He removed it, revealing a bloody, dirty and bruised face that still managed to smile for her.

"Hey…" he began, not knowing what to say. He eyed her bandaged arm. She eyed it herself, wincing from the passing soreness.

She didn't even remember getting slashed. It must have been that tiny weasel that managed to sneak behind their shields and then tried to take her out from behind. The wolf behind her stomped on him with his Caligae, snapping his neck just as Judica was trying to block.

She only felt the pain when Kitus pointed out to her that she was bleeding and she saw her own blood oozing out of her bicep.

"Kitus, well done on fixing the Ballistae so quickly. That was some quick thinking. You probably saved a lot of lives," began Nicolaus.

"Thanks, great Centurion," said Kitus humbly, knowing from his experience with the other Centurions to not be too casual with them, lest he'd get an oak branch across his face.

But, he had forgotten that this was Wildicus. So all he got was a gentle punch to his armoured shoulder.

"Don't be modest! Our legionaries are going to start their victory drinking soon! Setting up some wine, trying to fish some fine fish to roast for the celebrations…. Care to help with the preparations?"

"Sure thing!" chirped Kitus, marching over to his comrades, leaving the fox and bunny in relative solitude.

The fox looked at her for a moment. He had only seen that look on her face once before: When her brother died in her arms. That staring into nothingness.

He had seen it countless times before. As good as Roman drilling was, no amount of forced marches, strength training or sparring could prepare you for the true horrors of the battlefield. Yet, they all managed to get over it, eventually. And it made them all the stronger. So shouldn't he let her get over it herself? She wasn't going to get any stronger by coddling her constantly.

Then he heard it. Load and clear. A sniffle.

She quickly regained her composure, however, continuing to look down at her own paws. His keen eyes however, noticed a tear sneaking out of the corner of her eye.

No… screw it…. She needed him.

Making sure no one was watching, he made her sit up and quietly led her to his tent. It was every bit as large as a standard Contubernium tent, yet the fact that he was the only one in it gave it a sense of space. An actual bed was in the corner, together with a personal wash basin, a rack of Gladius and Pila, and something which seemed to be a diary with a quill and ink stand.

Rising through the ranks did have its perks…

He led her to the bed and sat down next to her. Without a word, he embraced her, giving her a quick kiss and holding her there.

They hadn't gotten much opportunity to express their feelings privately, only several quick runaways into the moonlight for a few minutes of affection, to break the hardship and monotony of training.

Now, they needed this more than ever.

"It's gonna be OK…" he whispered, nuzzling her, knowing how this gesture calmed her.

"I won't leave my Cohort. And especially not you," he assured.

"I know you won't," she said plainly. "But…. Varrus…." she whispered. "He worries me."

Nicolaus remained silent. He knew what she meant. He had served under Varrus before. He was hotheaded, hateful and thought little of sacrificing entire Cohorts in order to advance in a campaign. He had even been Governor over some conquered barbarian lands, yet he was laid off by the Senate, as he desecrated their holy places, enslaved randomly and killed any dissidents, which led to widespread revolts.

Now, he was the Senate's attack dog. Someone whom you were sure that if you sent somewhere, he'd leave nothing but scorched earth behind. A sudden chill went down the fox's spine as he thought that maybe, he'd force Judica to commit an atrocity…

"Not on my watch…" He thought.

"If he wants to make Judica do anything against her will…. If he ever makes my mammals and I burn down another village…. I will lead a mutiny and rip his throat out…" Nicolaus promised himself.

"N-Nicolaus?" she said, noticing how he began to narrow his eyes and clench his fists.

"It's nothing." he assured. He bent down for a deep kiss, which she gladly reciprocated. She needed it. As did he.

He loved her since he had seen her attending the vegetable stall when he was first stationed in her settlement…

"Now…" he said, breaking the kiss.

"How about we join our comrades for the celebrations? I can already smell them grilling the salmon," he said.

She chuckled in response. "Wow, so the 14th helping of salmon this week is more important than spending time with your lover? Good to know!" she teased.

"Hey, it's not just for me! I'll have my men whip up a nice carrot and cheese stew, just for you!" he shot back, stroking her ears. A growl from her stomach made her blush as Nick proposed her beloved dish.

"Looks like all that fighting made someone hungry…" he said slyly, sitting up.

She smiled back. Now, her mind was no longer on blood, smoke and corpses. She was looking forward to a victory meal with her comrades.

You've done it again, fox… He thought to himself, marching to the source of the scent of grilled salmon.

The mud was reaching up to her shins, the heavy rain not relenting in its endless whips of icy pitchforks raining down from the sky.

The constant rumble of Roman marching now resembled a wet, thunderous repeated slap, as everyone from the smallest rabbit to the most towering rhino was struggling to force themselves through the mud.

Judica struggled for a bit to put her Furca in a better position, the constant rain filling up her supply sac, as well as she had tried to seal it, adding entire ounces of weight, which for a rabbit, was no small quantity.

Varrus had ordered his legions into a tight column to pass through Teutonberg forest, through the muddy, narrow path. There were barely a legionaries to either of her side, ten at best, with Nicolaus right in front of her, his fur matted and wrinkled, revealing his lean muscles and exhausted, yet straight posture.

For the larger legionaries, which were further up, led by Mikhailus, barely four managed to fit per row.

The column must have been miles long.

Nicolaus and Mikhailus had tried for hours to argue with Varrus against this tactic, yet the bull remained stubborn, threatening them with demotion, lashes or even crucifixion should they continue to disobey his orders.

He wanted to simply reach the other end of the thick forest as quick as possible, and he argued that they were right now in the territory of friendly tribes, who had sided with Rome in previous wars. But that didn't make this tactical blunder any less reckless.

The bull had even gone as far as to refuse to send scouts forward, contradicting what even the greenest of legionaries knew about proper conduct or tactics.

Once again, Nicholaus found himself tugged by the leash, forced to listen to the orders of a reckless, cruel fool who only wished for a proper Senate position as soon as possible. Though, the fox had to admit, Varrus had seldom lost battles. He knew exactly how to attack and shock enemy troops as soon as possible, yet he wasn't much good at anything else. Even when he was defending, he threw the advantage out the window and merely charged his troops at them.

Varrus was at the very front of the Legion, where Centurion Mikhailus was, together with the largest and fiercest mammals of the XIV Legion.

Nicholaus was usually not nervous when marching. He had marched through even worse conditions than this. He still felt the burn on his fur from the time the African sun was heating his armor plates up, sticking against his fur and skin, nearly peeling it off once he had the chance to take it off….

But this was a different kind of atrocious…. Constant rain made turned the ground into a cauldron of mud, bubbling with each extra drop of water like a witch's potion. The leather paddings on the Scutum to protect it from the elements was becoming soggy and would have to be replaced at any moment.

The sight of impenetrable dark green continued endlessly, further away being only complete darkness, and high above, a toxic grey sky raining the fury of the Gods down on them.

Judica was trudging on like a true Soldier of Mars, not caring for the mud that now went past her shins, marching in a line every bit as straight as if she was on a sandy training ground.

He smiled briefly before taking one final look at the blood-red banners of Rome and the Eagle of his Cohort. The SPQR banner was completely soaked, evidenced by the wolf carrier shifting his shoulder slightly to carry the added weight of the water better.

The rapping sound of drizzle and wet slaps of the Caligae on mud were interrupted by a horn on the far side of the Column. It was an attack horn. Nicholaus froze up. As did his men. Immediately after, the distant, yet clear sounds of screams, bellows, orders, steel clanging against steel….

If Varrus and Mikhailus were being ambushed now, that could only mean…

"TAKE UP POSITIONS, MAMMALS! SPREAD OUT, NOW! STANDARD FORMATION, COVER ALL FLANKS!" Ordered the fox, just as he heard shifting within the deep, dark green maw of this wooded hell….

The legionaries quickly manipulated around the mud, covering all flanks and spreading out, rabbits, otters and foxes moving like chess pieces in a perfect uniform manner, without delay or mistake. No one would have ever even guessed that they were on their first campaign.

As it became clear to the barbarians that they were spotted, they no longer bothered to remain hidden. From within the dark green abyss, javelins, stones and arrows flew, like a giant swarm of insects, closing in to inject them with their lethal venom.

Judica raised her shield, feeling two massive javelins impale it. A hailstorm of stones and arrows also hit it, one particularly heavy stone making its way past her and her comrades defenses, hitting her in her plated chest, denting the armor and knocking the wind out of her. If it hadn't been for the otter behind her, she'd have been knocked down. She heard the horrifying sounds of flesh being pierced and shrieking sounds of mammals being struck down by the barbarians' assault.

"PILA READY!" bellowed Nick, using his whistle order to the furthest flanks. Judica and all the other legionaries didn't await any other invitations. They took their pila out of the slots on their shields, cocking their arms backwards, throwing the heavy spears.

The barbarians were surprised at the Centurion and Legionaries' quick reactions, retreating slightly as they saw them unfazed and ready to fire, which saved most of them.

The thick trees were more than enough cover, yet their front ranks took a beating, wolves and foxes rolling down the hill, impaled by the pila.

They had managed to survive the initial assault…. But that wasn't enough. They needed to fight their way out and reach Mikhailus's Cohort before it was too late.

Then, came the fireballs. Balls of dung and hay covered in pitch and set alight, rolled down the hills.

Judica saw one heading straight towards her, feeling the heat approaching closer and closer at breakneck speeds, the fiery boulder towering as high as a bear.

Her lungs let out a shrill screech as she scrambled to get out of the way, discipline be damned. But her comrades fleeing in all directions made it impossible. All she could do is hope that she was able to somehow put enough distance between her and the place the fireball would hit. She heard it disintegrate, sending waves of heat with burning chunks of hay throughout the ranks, causing shrieks of panic and pain as her friends were being burned alive…

"REGROUP!" ordered Nick. And so they did. Standing once again in a perfect square, as if nothing had happened, except that now there were fewer chess pieces, now lying on the ground, some still alive, yelling for help.

Then, more came… rolling towards the other flanks, to squish them and confuse them, then the vicious melee fighters would descend from the hill in a savage ecstasy to finish them off…

Yet they merely exploded harmlessly mid-roll. A few were destroyed so quickly that they instead engulfed the barbarian canines.

The rabbit's eyes narrowed in confusion.

Standing on top of one of the ballistae was Kitus, having armed them the moment he realized they were getting ambushed.

He smiled back at her as she turned around, firing more heavy flaming bolts into the enemy's general direction.

She didn't even have time to feel grateful for the engineer's quick thinking, as the waves of carnivores decided to give their all. They descended on the Romans, from both sides, the downhill slope building up their speed and momentum.

The soldier's instinct trumped her prey instinct to flee, and she interlocked her shield with her neighbors', bracing herself for the impact.

Her knees wobbled as the canines approached. All her instinct saw were bellowing monsters who wanted nothing less than to rip her head off, conquer her lands and destroy everything she and Rome stood for. And wasn't that the truth? It didn't matter: in this moment, it was more convenient to think that way…

The massive wave of barbarians headed towards the shield wall, shaking her to the very core, yet the chain of shields held her tight. Letting go of a war cry, she bashed the brown fox that was in front of her with the shield, staggering the larger mammal, a Gladius to her lightly armoured chest ending her life.

Her…

It had been a female. Not much older than herself…

The thought didn't linger any longer than a second, however, as she began dodging several axes and swords of rushing barbarians, thrusting her Gladius forward, slashing whenever she was forced out of the line, getting back in the moment her opponent was slain.

This went on and on. It made no difference to her whether it was hours on minutes that had passed. She continued fighting tooth and nail for mere survival, going forward inch by inch.

It was just then, that the wave of barbarians seemed to thicken. Where the hell where they all coming from? Or perhaps, they were using tactics. They may have been cruel and uncivilized, but they were far from stupid.

Her flank was pushed back by sheer force, several of her comrades slain, their training and willpower not being enough to save them from their fate.

She was no longer covered in mud, but in a liquid of the same color as the Roman banners that were still being flown proudly…

It was then, that it happened.

She was tackled from the side as she was fighting. They were no longer in a line, each mammal was for himself until they managed to be regrouped.

She felt the vice-like grip of powerful clawed paws clasping on her unarmoured neck as they began to squeeze, forcing the air out of her lungs.

She faced her opponent, expecting the same monstrous face she had given to all of them…. It would be the last thing she ever saw…

It was a snow-white fox with eyes the color of a clear sky. Wait, what?

The female blinked at Judica's horrified expression. The bunny could feel the grip on her throat lessening.

Then, it wasn't there anymore at all… The fox got off of her.

For a moment, the battle around the two warriors disappeared. Judica jumped to her feet, gripping her Gladius and Scutum tightly, knowing what she had to do…

She had just been shown mercy by a barbarian…

The female continued staring at her, then stared at her own paws, as if now realizing what she was about to do…

It was then that she realized how young she was… Probably a teenager.

She had no time to ponder on what had happened, as the fox warrior disappeared into the mist, running back towards her brethren.

She had mercy on her…. Just looking into her eyes… she saw another being...a mammal. Caught in a bad situation and an even worse homeland.

Wildicus ordered half of his Cohort to disengage, circling around through the woods towards the line that was still attacking them.

Now, it was the barbarians who were encircled. It had been a bloodbath. The two impenetrable shield walls closed in like a vise to a hot iron, squeezing and stabbing their way through to finish off their ambushers.

It was over.

She looked around. There were far fewer of them than there were before…. On the ground, alongside the barbarians were her comrades.

Rabbits, foxes and otters she called by their first names, with which she had shared her food and built their camps together. All gone.

They would have stayed to burn them in pyres or at least pay their last respects, yet the screaming from almost miles away continued…. Mikhailus's Cohort was being overwhelmed.

"ASSEMBLE!" ordered Nicolaus, blowing a sharp, clear tune into his whistle, making all of the remaining legionaries assemble.

"LEGIONARIES…. MARCH!" he ordered, pointing his Gladius towards the woods. They would cut through, splitting his remaining troops in two. Each would position themselves behind the ambushers chipping away at the remaining Legion. Simple, yet effective. That was what tactics were supposed to be anyway…

However…. For that to succeed… there needed to be a second commander for the other group…

"Judica…. You shall be the acting commander of half of the Cohort," announced the fox.

Judica froze. She could feel all eyes on her. First, it was surprise. She was a raw recruit, who had just had her first few battles. All she knew about command was from basic training.

Then, she could feel it shift. They were now expectant. Awaiting an order, a speech from the acting commander, anything.

She looked at her Centurion. His tired, muddy, bloody face was smiling at her. No the sly smile that was his default. It was a genuine smile. The same smile which had kept her going throughout the grueling training. The "You can do this" smile.

Swallowing hard, she stepped in front of her fellow legionaries. Her legionaries.

They all looked at her. Some with surprise. Others with renewed respect. Others were simply expecting orders.

No time for speeches. No time for second thoughts. Only one thing to say…

"Units! March!" The response was as prompt as it was expected.

"AYE!"

She could do this…she could do this…

The storm seemed to intensify, thunderbolts peeking their teeth through the ashen-grey sky. The cold water and mud which now covered her entire body couldn't suppress her sweat and fire of half-fear and half-determination.

Her soldiers followed her without question. The Eagle standard, splashed with mud and blood continued to shine.

All she had to do to reach Mikhailus's Cohort was follow the screams…

Then, she saw them. Tigers, bears, rhinos and others, the largest champions of the Roman Legion, were surrounded on all sides by barbarians. There were at least twice as many as those that had attacked Nicolaus's Cohort. And there were bears and some of the largest wolves she had ever seen, alongside the smaller, yet nimbler and equally fierce warriors.

Little by little, they broke their defenses, squeezing the Romans into an ever-smaller pocket. Centurion Mikhailus was still fighting bravely, hitting left and right, blocking and dodging while roaring like an ancient predator. The rain could do little to wash away the blood from him, as it was replaced by another red mist with every decisive stab of his Gladius… The Legate was nowhere to be seen.

She inhaled. No way she and Nicolaus could just charge them. It would have distracted the massive barbarians, certainly, but they stood no chance in prolonged close quarters against such behemoths.

They needed to draw them out…

Thin their ranks first…

"Kitus…. You know what to do." she whispered to the siege engineer.

The fox saluted and instantly got to work on arming his ballista.

She saw Nicolaus on the other side. The shine of the Eagle couldn't be mistaken even in the middle of such a storm.

He was waiting for her signal. And what better signal than a fiery ballista?

She raised her paw up, siege engineer Kitus arming the ballistae, cleverly wrapping sinew and using a special mixture of pitch so that the flames would not go out in the rain. At least not that quickly.

He and his small company of siege workers aimed the ballistae at the barbarians.

The missiles whooshed through the air, skewering several bears and wolves at once, causing the ones near them to panic. Kitus had been able to aim it in a way that it was impossible for them to realize where it had come from. As soon as the first few barbarians were hit, Nicolaus's Cohort threw their Pila on the other side of the encirclement.

Most of them turned around, seeing the smaller Legionaries use missile attacks to try and break the ambush. Some of them rushed towards them, ready to slaughter them quickly and turn their attention back to the larger legionaries.

Mikhailus took this opportunity to stab the grizzly bear he had been fighting with in his broad chest as he turned his head to the sudden screams of his comrades. The bear's bulk fell over two wolves, either trapping or crushing them.

He saw the Eagle standard once again…. Now was their chance!

"PUSH BACK MAMMALS! SHIELD WALL NOW! REGROUP!" He bellowed, tigers, lions and rhinos forming a shield wall in the few yards of space that were now cleared.

He pushed forward with his tight formation, the barbarians now running towards the smaller Romans that were harassing them with bolts, arrows, pila and even slinged stones.

Bellowing, he slammed his shield on two wolves, the entire front line doing the same, pushing back with their large Scutums. Mikhailus's Legion recovered too quickly for the ambushers to focus on the smaller soldiers. They had to fight them first…

A massive polar bear, wielding two battleaxes jumped in the middle of the Legion. He was wearing a mask fashioned out of the skull of a deer. Three of his underlings were cut down instantly, cut in half by the sheer weight and power of the crude weapons.

Mikhailus rushed him, a slam of the shield and a kick with the Caligae steel balls barely stunning him.

"MAMMALS! CONTINUE ONWARDS!" He knew that he would buy some more time for his soldiers by keeping this monstrosity busy.

The larger mammal roared in his face, the smell of decaying flesh hitting the tiger's face instantly.

He didn't even blink. Instead, he awaited the attack. One battleaxe went for his midsection while the other sought his head. The feline ducked under and blocked one of the axes with his Scutum, the sheer force almost sending the shield into his face. He stabbed with his Gladius, the polar bear's hide tougher than any leather armor he had encountered before. The beast bellowed as his torso was pierced, sending a knee into the smaller feline's face.

The tiger was sent entire feet backwards, blood flowing down his face. How the heck had the bear survived that?

He could hear the behemoth trying to kill him as he was face-down in the mud.

Not now…. Wait for it…

As soon as he heard the axe wooshing in the air, the tiger rolled over, stabbing the behemoth's arm. The bear screamed in pain, and Mikhail took this opportunity to take the axe away from his weakened hand.

Dropping his Scutum, he climbed the fifteen foot tall bear's back, digging into his shoulder with his claws. The bear was flaying, his arms back frantically, trying to get the tiger off him. He couldn't even reach him before Mikhailus delivered the final blow to the back of his head, splitting it open.

Afterwards, he collapsed, sitting next to the slain monster. His entire body ached, his sore arms hurting as much as his slashed torso or stomped paws.

He was completely covered in mud and blood, a sickening mixture of brown and red, which not even the storm could wash away.

He closed his eyes just as he heard his men cheering as they advanced...

"Mikhailus! Pal! Wake up!" the tiger then heard. Was it one minute or one hour later? Judging by the intensified smell of smoke and blood, some time had passed.

The screams and sounds of fighting were gone though….

"Oh, thank the gods! I thought that bear was the end of you! You kept him off us!" said Nicolaus, whom he now recognized.

The feline managed to crack a smile. The pain in his muscles seemed to have ceased, yet his wounds were now burning hotter than ever.

"Heh…. You know me, Wildicus…." was all he managed to splurt out. No sarcastic come back or witty quip.

"That coward…. Varrus. He fell on his sword the moment he saw the barbarians were closing in…" he said with venom. More than half my legionaries are dead… Nothing we could do…. Bastard marched us straight into a death trap…" he said, feeling his massive body getting helped up by several larger mammals.

"Without a Legate to lead us… Should we turn back? We still have all the Eagle standards, our honor is assured. We don't have enough men to continue the campaign" proposed Kitus.

"What!? And leave the newly romanized villages to the wolves? They're gonna massacre their own people once they find out that they accepted us!" countered Nicolaus. "Send a messenger to Rome. Tell the Emperor that we need more Cohorts to reinforce us. We have preserved the Eagle standards, therefore this is still a Legion. We just need to elect a new Legate…" said the fox, sitting in the middle with Mikhailus.

The tiger shook his head and stepped back.

"Nick… I know only the ways of war. All I can do as a Centurion is order to kill. I cannot bring other tribes to our aid, or persuade Barbarian villages to accept us like you have. You are every bit the commander I am, as well as a peacemaker. The decision makes itself," the tiger said, holding his paw up in a salute.

"Ave, Legatus Nicolaus Wildicus!" he proclaimed.

"AVE! AVE! AVE!" the legionaries cheered and bellowed.

Judica had tears in her eyes, witnessing Nick turning from sheer shock to absolute smug pride. He really loved being the center of attention…

She ran from her cheering comrades and jumped on Nick, embracing and kissing him before he even saw her.

The salutes and cheers were replaced with chuckles and "Ooooos…" of approval, congratulating them. Wait…. Why didn't any of them seem surprised?

"Come on, you guys really thought it was a secret?" chuckled Mikhailus.

The fox and bunny shrugged, and laughed as they continued to make out in front of the Legionaries...

"Gah!" Judy cried, nearly falling out of the chair as she bounded up, standing on the chair while looking frantically around her. "Is the building on fire?"

Nick took a step back. "Sorry, I had to shake you awake, you were...ah..." He paused, scratching the back of his neck.

Judy raised an eyebrow. "What was I doing?" she asked plaintively.

Nick chuckled, a hint of a smug grin appearing. "Well, you were becoming quite vocal in your support of Legate Nicolaus."

Judy's eyes widened before her ears flopped behind her head. "Oh no..."

Nick laughed. "Oh yes...I haven't heard you shouting your support for me that loudly since-mmph!"

Judy clamped her paws around his mouth, eyes wide in a panic as she shouted.

"Nicholas Piberious Wilde!"

AN: I want to give a huge thank you to MikhailTheTiger on this amazing story. I am a huge fan of the Rome Total War series, and as he is a huge fan of the Roman era, this story was perfect for the collaboration and I can't thank him enough for writing it. So please, go to his site, follow and review his stories. He deserves the praise! :)