We Fought for Our Country, So Why?

Some people may be born saints.

Despite being born into wealthy families, they can humble themselves and listen to the sufferings of the common people and even empathize with them.

When wars fail, others might blame military strategies or equipment.

But only Tiberius saw the bodies and minds of those soldiers who were devastated and extremely exhausted by the long war.

And those soldiers who were forcibly conscripted and whose families were destroyed were just a drop in the bucket to fill the economic gap in Rome.

Poorer individuals, already struggling, had little loyalty to their country.

Better-off citizens were more likely to support their nation.

For those barely surviving, loyalty was hard to muster, and conscripted soldiers from such backgrounds had little will to fight.

Rome's defeats were not surprising.

Perhaps those Senate nobles far away in the capital thought that these one or two defeats were just accidents.

But some people understood that this is not just a beginning, but an outbreak of the drawbacks and disasters that were buried in the past.

And as the only person who knew the future development trend, Night, who was more awake than anyone else of that era, understood that Tiberius was right.

Rome's treatment of soldiers was too harsh.

Just as it disregarded slaves' rights and dignity, the aristocracy cared little for soldiers' lives.

Even as commoners' lives were ruined and their families were killed, the elite continued their opulent lifestyles, maintaining an illusion of prosperity and strength.

For the Senate, as long as the elite thrived, the state was flourishing.

The deaths of a few commoners were insignificant.

This realization weighed heavily on Night.

As a pragmatic individual, he believed in prioritizing his own well-being before extending help to others.

He wasn't a saint with grand ambitions to change the world or a hero willing to sacrifice his life for strangers.

Yet, some things were too unbearable to ignore.

If given the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to purge the corrupt Senate.

Not for altruism but for the satisfaction it would bring him.

However, he also knew such impulsive actions wouldn't create lasting change.

Apart from making himself physically and mentally happy, it would not have any effect on changing the country.

Killing one group of senators would only see another rise.

Even if all the Roman nobles were killed, new nobles would emerge from the common people.

Real change required altering Rome's fundamental systems, establishing new rules everyone had to follow, potentially creating a semblance of justice.

At least like the Greek heroes, in the name of heroes, they could barely restrain those shameless evil dragons.

"After this war ends—will we be able to go home then?"

"Rome—how is it now?"

"Will our families, our friends… be proud of us?"

"Who would know about this kind of thing?"

"It's always the same. Glory and victory belong to the noble elites, and we are nothing but unnoticed laborers."

"It's ridiculous. I haven't been back to Rome in over ten years. My sister, who lives in the capital, might have gotten married by now. I don't even know if my wife has run off with someone else."

"What a joke. We fight for our country, yet those people in the back take everything from us."

Are they heroes? Some soldiers thought so.

No, they're no heroes.

It was precisely because they has seen through the ugly faces of the Senate that most people here were be smart enough to choose to run away when they saw that the situation was not right.

In the past, they might have chosen to trust the nobles.

But now, there's only anger and curses.

As for Gracchus's promises, how many of the 43 here actually believed him? How many just had no choice but to believe?

Night's excellent hearing allowed him to hear the soldiers' mutterings late at night, and he could even more or less feel a little bit of what the soldiers were thinking.

This gave him a clearer, more tangible sense of this supposedly glorious era.

[On the bank of the Ebro River, you and the soldiers walk along the river until the sun sets and night falls.

A group of 43 people rested on the spot, using the sky as blankets and the ground as beds.

This night you listened to many trivial voices and realized the oppression of ordinary people in the era called Rome.

Not only did the slaves live in dire straits, the civilians also had a hard time.

As the overlord of the Mediterranean and such a powerful country, the happiness index of its people was shockingly low.

At this moment, you seem to understand the inner thoughts of the Gracchus brothers, Lucius Caesar, and many others whose names might never be remembered—those who tried to reform Rome but were killed by assassins.

This barbaric, brutal and backward era urgently needs a flame to give it new life.

Those nobles, the Senate, who did not want to see this new birth,

Perhaps they sent assassins to kill the tribune who wanted to change all this injustice.

They thought that this would end everything, but they did not expect that it would trigger the outbreak of the Social War in reality.

They thought oppression would continue to work, but they didn't know that when despair accumulates to a certain level, even the most tolerant people will rise up in resistance. ]

Night suddenly felt that helping the Gracchus brothers change history might be an interesting endeavor.

The goal no longer seemed so dull.

At that moment, a slight noise interrupted his thoughts. Sensing something, Night snapped his eyes open and shouted, "Enemy attack! Grab your weapons, prepare for battle!"

Whoosh~!!

Just as he finished speaking, a feather arrow shot over.

Night subconsciously raised his arm to block the arrow, which hit the joint of his armor, but bounced off because of his invulnerable body.

But at this time, others were not as lucky as him.

Although the soldiers reacted quickly, several of them were still hit by arrows and fell down with a groan of pain.

A soldier had just stood up and was unlucky enough to be hit by three arrows.

Night had the impression that this soldier was the one who had murmured in grief and indignation before, saying that he was fighting for his country but his wife might have run away with someone else.

He was still angry just now, feeling kind of fight is meaningless and he was confused as to why he had persisted until now.

As a result, the young man died fighting for Rome the next moment. This was a very abrupt ending.

The passing of life magnified the resentment in his heart in a short period of time. He suddenly couldn't understand what he was doing...

He really couldn't swallow that breath.

But this is reality, this is war.

There are no heroes or miracles, only human lives disappearing like ants.

If you harbour anger or despair, you will instantly fall victim to the jaws of death.