The Mercenary

Aaarggghhh!

With a loud whizzing sound, a spear pierced through the air and skewered through the bodies of roman legionaries. The simple attack was enough to disrupt one of the formations.

A Thracian warrior dashed through the Roman encirclement. One hand was gripping a blood-stained spear tight and another held a whimpering girl's arm. The girl looked dirty, stains of blood and dirt littered all over her body and tattered clothes, but the warrior squeezed the girl's arm tight, as if trying to derive strength from her.

"Hold my hand! We are charging in!!"

In this particular battle, Thrax fought like a ferocious lion. Each swing of his spear killed all who dared to stand before him, leaving a long trail of corpses onto the bloodied land.

"Thrax, just leave me, save yourself!" The girl shouted in desperation.

"No, never!" Thrax gritted his teeth and thrust his spear, impaling the Roman soldier who tried to sneak up on them from behind.