No reinforcements are coming, time to wake up, this is about self-rescue
So from the beginning, they had no choice...
Either break through the enemy lines to return to Rome or die where they stood...
As for the option of becoming prisoners, if they didn't want to be sold into slavery later, dying with dignity on the battlefield might preserve some semblance of honor.
For Night, there was never any other possibility considered.
But now,
At this moment, as he looked around, nearly everyone's face showed a complete lack of fighting spirit, utterly devoid of the will to fight.
But relying solely on himself to break through an army stationed here was unrealistic.
Although facing thousands with just 39 men was equally unrealistic, even a slight dispersal of their firepower would make things much easier.
So, he must rouse these men's spirits—!
Night took a deep breath...
This scene reminded him of the time in the city of Thebes, when he addressed the soldiers in a similar way.
After a long silence and slow contemplation, he finally spoke:
"Listen to me—everyone."
Scanning the faces of all 39 soldiers, Night said, "It's not time to despair yet.
Or rather—compared to the facts you're about to learn, our current situation doesn't even qualify as 'despair.'"
Hearing this, the soldiers were momentarily stunned, all turning to look up at Night in confusion.
What… does that mean…?
And then he said: "I must share with you a message as devoid of hope as a starless night.
The naval forces in the Tyrrhenian Sea have abandoned us, allowing the remnants of Carthage and the Spanish rebels to surround this land.
Our quartermaster has not received new pay or supplies in a long time.
Do you understand what this means?"
39 pairs of eyes vibrated toward Night, filled with fear and unease, shocked by the sudden disclosure.
The soldiers began to have ominous suspicions.
Among them, Tiberius Gracchus looked at Night with a face full of astonishment and nervousness. What was he trying to do?
Spreading such demoralizing news all of a sudden. Why!
Gracchus was anxious to say something to stop Night, "Night, you—!"
But upon seeing the look in Night's eyes, he froze.
Those were eyes that were filled with no doubt; under the moonlight, they shone like stars, with a resolute gaze.
In a moment when everyone felt despair, the flame (of fighting spirit) in his eyes seemed like unquenchable firewood, still flickering.
Before anyone could respond, Night continued with a forceful tone: "Let me tell you; this means that we have probably been abandoned by the upper echelons of Rome.
The nobles of the Senate regard us as disposable tools, and it's likely that no reinforcements will come.
If you're hoping to stay put and wait for the 'reinforcements' that will eventually arrive, and you still harbor such naive thoughts, then embrace your naivety and drown in the Ebro River.
I have decided not to wait for a 'future that will not come.'"
After Night's string of words fell, though tinged with a sarcastic tone, the soldiers were instantly uproarious, completely uninterested in his tone but rather more focused on the harsh truth in his words.
"We've been abandoned?!!"
"How… How could this be?!"
"Damn it, it's a lie, right? There really are no reinforcements?"
At this moment, their hearts were shaken by the stark, bluntly revealed truth, feeling both anger and despair.
And then, there was the pain of having their last shred of hope shattered by his 'truth.'
Nothing is more cruel than being told to simply wait for death.
However, Night's final words, seemingly unfinished, gave them a glimmer of hope.
Everyone stopped speaking and just turned their gaze toward the man, like loyal subjects waiting for their king to speak.
In a moment devoid of ideas, everyone looked to Night as their leader.
Then they saw the man ask coldly: "Are you going to cower here like cowards, praying for rescue that may never come—pray to whom?
Those decaying senators in the capital, reveling night after night? Or the other soldiers already scattered on the Spanish battlefield, who are overwhelmed themselves?
To simply live meagerly here until the last moment, discovered and completely surrounded by the enemy, and during the long wait, lose the last shred of strength to resist.
And then what!? After that!?"
Night suddenly drew his sword and raised it high, his voice roaring passionately as he stared down everyone, like a lion in fury.
"Have you heard that you're so poor you can't even scrape together a single auris, or even know if your family back home is faring well?
Is it that you truly don't know, or are you afraid to know!
Can you not even dare to dream?!"
Below, the 39 men felt their blood, which had gone cold, boil again with intense heat.
Their faces, flushed with shame, had been utterly dejected moments ago, but now their spirit was brimming with anger.
'Is it that we don't know, or are we afraid to know?! Us... Are we cowards?'
Many clenched their fists or their weapons, their eyes filled with blood vessels.
Night's words struck at their greatest agony.
Like that soldier who died in sorrow, many here shared similar experiences.
It was pitiful, like a joke, like a clown.
Have you ever heard of enduring warriors, of heroes whose families live in hardship, struggling to make ends meet?
Intense feelings of injustice, resentment, and envy festered.
Why should they now despair on the front lines of the Ebro River, living in fear and facing a crisis of life and death?
While those in the rear not only failed to provide their families—the heroes—the treatment they deserved, but also dragged their feet, providing no support and skimming off what was rightfully theirs in supplies and pay.
Damn—!!!
This damned world! These shitty nobles!
Finally, people heard Night shift tone abruptly, becoming faint and devoid of warmth as he said: "It's about time we admit it—praying is futile.
No one else can save us now.
There is no hope left, so, there's nothing to be afraid of anymore, right?"
As he revealed the harrowing truth that, once acknowledged, would shatter their spirits—
For some reason, the silent 39 men felt a sense of relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from their hearts.
As if a great mountain weighing on them had been moved.
Indeed, there was no hope left, nothing more cruel or darker than the reality before them.
Having accepted even this harsh truth, what more could shake them now, other than death?
Whether it was recklessly breaking the pot to spite the face, or forcefully suppressing their despondent hearts with indignation and anger.
The extreme despair, once reversed, led everyone to face reality, acknowledge the facts—and then—understand the resolve in each of Night's words.
Yes—they could only 'save themselves'; no one else could be relied upon...
Night saw the expressions on each person's face, from initial struggle and despair to the final madness and fierce will infused with a vengeful spirit: "Do you want revenge?
Do you want to take back what rightfully belongs to you?
Then... don't die!
Do not allow yourselves to fall on this land, absurdly and meaninglessly, for people (nobles) who have nothing to do with you.
Yes—we can only save ourselves.
If there is still a miracle in this world.
Even if it's only a one in a million chance, bet on the possibility of making it happen!!
There's only one way—"
By now, everyone probably knew what Night intended to do.
To fight back from the brink of death—yes—that's the lesson he wanted to teach them, and to himself.
If you feel despair, let it be deeper and more profound, but as long as you haven't given up—
There's always a sliver of chance in dire situations!
At that moment, despair will turn into flames of anger, becoming the force that drives them towards the only chance of survival.
When Night saw that he had sufficiently motivated the soldiers, all rejuvenated and ready to fight, he took a deep breath and spoke his final words aloud:
"The only method is extreme, a mad act that, if thought about with common sense, would be deemed absurd."
At this moment, everyone perked up their ears: …!!!
What—method?
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