Cursing the cowardly Crotoniates, Matonis reluctantly assigned some of his soldiers to assist in the bridge construction.

The River Umbria was neither too wide nor too deep. With ample labor and the soldiers on both banks working under the direction of engineers—following the bridge-building procedures outlined in the Military Law—the wooden bridge was nearing completion. Just then, Matonis received a report from the scouts: approximately 8,000 Croton light infantry were attacking him!

His listless face instantly lit up with energy. “Brothers, get up! We have a fight!”

Like commander, like soldiers. The men, who had been sprawling in rest, immediately leaped up, donned their equipment, and rushed to the earthen ramparts, peering out with excitement. Soldiers involved in the bridge construction also hurried back upon hearing the news.

Before long, they spotted the figures of the Croton troops.

After escaping back to Crimisa, Milon had specifically questioned the few survivors from Philadelphus’s command and reached a shocking conclusion: Philadelphus’s army had been defeated by Theonia’s light infantry! Now facing a situation where he had few heavy infantry but many light infantry, he decided to adopt the enemy’s tactics. He even enlisted sailors from the fleet docked at Crimisa’s port into the expeditionary force.

Eight thousand men landed on the south bank at the mouth of the River Umbria. Under Milon’s command, they marched grandly along the river toward the Theonian garrison on the south bank.

Seeing the trenches and earthen walls built by the Theonians, Milon actually smiled: The Theonians have bound their own hands. This favors a light infantry attack.

Two hundred meters from the Theonians, he spread his troops into a loose formation, enveloping the semi-circular temporary defensive camp which had its back to the River Umbria.

At his command, the archers advanced to within a hundred meters and began parabolic fire.

For the Theonian heavy infantry protected by the earthen wall, the sky-filling rain of arrows looked terrifying but caused little harm. They simply rested their round shields on the wall to cover their heads. Some Theonian soldiers even joked, “The Crotoniates must know we nearly ran out of arrows in the last battle, so they kindly brought us a resupply.” But this relaxed mood quickly vanished.

The Croton light infantry pressed forward. At around 50 meters, the accuracy of their arrows increased significantly.

Of course, against Theonian heavy infantry protected by round shields and earthen walls, the damage remained minimal.

However, when the Croton javelin throwers advanced to within twenty or thirty meters, the Theonian heavy infantry felt the pressure. Crouching behind the wall would ensure complete safety, as the enemy were all light infantry who dared not engage in melee combat. But being a tortoise shrinking into its shell wasn’t Matonis’s style. Moreover, hiding behind the wall meant losing all situational awareness. What if they bypass the defensive line and go down to the river to burn the wooden bridge under construction?!

Matonis was the commander of the south bank forces; he knew his responsibilities clearly.

“Javelins!” he roared, suddenly standing up from behind the wall. He quickly lowered his shield, leaned back, and—without a run-up, relying solely on waist and arm strength—hurled his javelin over 20 meters. It pierced the chest of a Croton javelin thrower. He immediately crouched back down.

The Theonian soldiers, stifled by the arrow suppression and bursting with pent-up frustration, received Matonis’s order and immediately counterattacked. Countless javelins flew over the wall and trench, plunging into the Croton ranks and splashing flowers of blood. Meanwhile, Croton arrows and javelins poured onto the Theonian heavy infantry. Casualties on both sides began to mount.

Positioned in front of the archer formation, Milon watched the battle unfold. He began to appreciate the benefits of attacking pure heavy infantry with massed light infantry. Unfortunately, Theonian heavy infantry were not traditional Greek hoplites; the javelins they threw inflicted heavy damage on the poorly protected Croton javelin throwers. The casualty ratio between the two sides was significant.

But Milon reasoned: Trading a few light infantry for one heavy infantry is a worthwhile exchange. Croton has no shortage of freedmen sailors; what we lack are citizens to serve as heavy infantry.

***

“Battalion Commander Epitenes! The enemy attack on the south bank is fierce! Commander Matonis requests your reinforcement!” a messenger relayed Matonis’s message.

“I know!” Epitenes responded with a frown. After a moment of thought, he said, “Amphiolex!”

“Here, sir!”

“Take the slingers and cross the river immediately to support Matonis!” Epitenes looked at his slinger company commander and instructed, “Remember! Do not enter Matonis’s camp. The cramped space there won’t allow you to dodge the attacks of Croton’s massive light infantry force! Go around to the enemy’s perimeter and use your superior range to attack them!”

“Understood, Commander!” Amphiolex hurried off to gather his soldiers.

The organization of a light infantry battalion (the Seventh Battalion) in a Theonian legion differed somewhat from a heavy infantry battalion. According to the Military Law, a heavy infantry battalion comprised five companies of 200 men each, totaling 1,000 men. A light infantry battalion, though also numbering a thousand, consisted of only three companies: slingers, archers, and javelin throwers, with varying numbers in each.

This was because light infantry required higher technical skill than heavy infantry. While javelin throwing was somewhat easier, archers and slingers required long-term training to become qualified light infantry. Therefore, the composition of a Theonian light infantry battalion often depended on the realities of its recruitment area. For example, the First Legion’s light infantry battalion had roughly equal numbers of all three types, but its javelin throwers were actually Thracian peltasts. The Second Legion’s light infantry battalion mainly came from Thurii’s reserve citizens—mostly freedmen and sailors—so it had more archers and some peltasts. The Third Legion’s light infantry battalion was primarily Lucanian, so javelin throwers predominated. Since light infantry fought in loose formations with high flexibility and rarely engaged the enemy directly, variations in the numbers of each type had little impact on command during battle.

“Commander, Amphiolex took the slingers. Will the Croton warships anchored in the river see our reduced numbers and take the opportunity to sail upstream and destroy our newly built bridge?” Xenialis, the peltast company commander, asked worriedly.

“I wish they would come! Even with fewer men, I’m confident we could destroy them! It’s better than this—unable to attack or retreat, pinned down by those wooden boats, unable to reinforce our comrades on the other bank!” Epitenes said indignantly.

“If they won’t come, why don’t we go attack them?” a handsome young guard beside Epitenes interjected.

Epitenes slapped the back of his head lightly, laughing and scolding, “Idiot! The riverbank where the enemy ships are anchored is low ground. Attacking ships there would be like attacking enemies on a city wall—high losses for us, low losses for them. Why would I, Epitenes, fight a battle I know I’ll lose?!”

“We’re on the high ground of the riverbank now, and there are river-blocking cables in the water. The enemy knows rowing here means passively taking a beating. Would they be stupid enough to do that?!” the handsome guard retorted.

Epitenes was momentarily speechless, then shoved him lightly again, laughing. “Not bad! You’ve improved a lot!” He sighed helplessly. “It seems we’re stuck in a standoff with the enemy ships. The Commander ordered us to protect the bridge; I thought it would be a simple task, but now it seems quite troublesome!”

While Milon engaged Matonis, Davos had already received the news. Although surprised that Milon dared to attack with only light infantry, Davos wasn’t worried. “Inform Ledes his cavalry is temporarily under the command of the First Legion. I believe Capus will drive the enemy back soon!”

Authorized by Davos, First Legion Commander Capus immediately mobilized three heavy infantry battalions and the cavalry. They quickly waded across the river, aiming to circle behind the Croton forces and cut off their retreat.

However, upon learning that Theonian reinforcements were imminent, Milon decisively ordered a retreat despite holding the advantage.

The battle ended abruptly. Matonis’s 2,000 heavy infantry suffered 500 casualties, mostly wounded. Milon’s 8,000 men suffered over 700 casualties, mostly deaths. Yet, Matonis felt he had taken a loss, while Milon considered it a small victory for Croton, as he had dampened the Theonians’ arrogance and inevitably delayed their camp construction and siege of Crimisa.

But upon returning to the city, Milon immediately received bad news: a large army was approaching from the north and entering the Theonian camp.

That must be the reinforcements from Niutum! Milon instantly grew tense.

***

In fact, entering the Theonian camp were not only 5,000 soldiers from Niutum but also 3,000 allied troops from Laos, bringing the Theonian frontline strength to over 22,000 men.

The Theonian camp, already high in morale, now erupted in cheers everywhere…

Davos went out to welcome the travel-worn arrivals: Avenogis, Archon of Laos; Bagulos, First Battalion Commander of the Third Legion; Adjutant Axistes; Second Battalion Commander Lizaru; and other senior officers.

“Commander, we are late!” Axistes saluted respectfully, his face full of apology.

“Traveling from Niutum to Crimisa in just over three days—is that considered slow?!” Davos returned the salute seriously, then praised them with a beaming smile. “You’ve arrived just in time. We will rely on you for the battles ahead!”