The cunning Messapian cavalry swept quickly diagonally forward, exposing the infantry phalanx behind them.

Then, the Messapian army formation halted its advance, once again entering a standoff with Achilita’s forces from a hundred meters away.

Achilita, however, could wait no longer. Possessing double the enemy’s troop strength, combined with the unease gnawing at his heart, he immediately ordered: “Sound the trumpet for attack!”

In Taranto, many were jealous of or looked down upon the Theonian League, but Achilita did not share this sentiment. Not only did he have a good relationship with the Theonian Archon Davos, but he had also carefully studied Theonia’s military tactics, absorbing parts of them and applying them to his own troops. Increasing the number of light infantry, organizing them into separate units, and fully utilizing their ranged attack capabilities—these were major changes he had implemented in the army he led.

As the light infantry moved first to attack the enemy, Achilita positioned himself behind the right wing of his battle line, which was far longer than the enemy’s phalanx. He commanded the right-wing heavy infantry to advance, preparing to outflank the enemy’s left wing.

The Messapian phalanx remained motionless. Instead, it was the Messapian cavalry surrounding the perimeter of the Taranto formation that took action. They pressed in from all sides, hurling javelins at the Taranto soldiers in an attempt to disrupt and hinder their advance.

Achilita remained unmoved. The attack trumpet continued to blow, and the heavy infantry would soon enter charging distance.

“Woo! … Woo! …” The deep, long sound of ox-horn trumpets suddenly resonated across the battlefield.

Achilita was startled: That sound is coming from the rear?!

“Enemy behind us! Enemy behind us!! …” Some soldiers at the rear of the right wing began to shout in panic. Through the dispersing morning mist to the rear-left, shadowy human figures could be seen in the distance, and the rumbling of footsteps could be heard.

It’s a trap! The Messapians set an ambush here! Achilita’s heart skipped a beat, and a thought flashed rapidly through his mind: Continue forward or retreat? He had to make a decision immediately.

Fortunately, he had learned from the Theonian army’s practice: the commander did not place himself within the phalanx to lead the charge but positioned himself outside it. Previously, he had been criticized in the Senate for this very thing: practicing the “decadent style of aristocrats” during battle and “fearing death” by not fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with the citizens.

He had not changed his methods because of criticism, so now he was able to make adjustments before engaging the enemy. “Halt the entire army! Immediately retreat to the rear-left in formation!” Achilita instantly issued orders to the messengers and buglers. He hoped that by retreating, he could transform the terrible situation of being attacked from front and rear into a frontal engagement against these two enemy forces.

The military trumpet sounded. Messengers galloped behind the phalanx, shouting loudly.

For a typical Greek city-state army, retreating to the rear-left was a complex tactical maneuver, difficult to achieve even in training, let alone on the battlefield. But Achilita believed that this army, which he had led in campaigns for half a year and trained strictly like the Theonian army, could do it.

In his many engagements with the Messapians, he had come to understand the ferocity and tenacity of this race. He had no confidence in crushing the enemy to the west—who had half his numbers—in a very short time, nor did he want to fall into the dangerous situation of being pincer-attacked. The only solution was to disengage from the current battlefield immediately and reorganize the offense. Since the main Messapian force was attacking Manduria, he believed the number of enemies here, even if greater than his army, would not be much greater. He was confident he could defeat them in a frontal battle!

The phalanx halted its advance and began to retreat slowly. However, as the Taranto army stopped advancing, the Messapian infantry began their charge. Simultaneously, the Messapian cavalry intensified their attacks, howling as they drove their horses toward the phalanx, attempting to disrupt the Tarantines’ retreat.

The desperate fighting style of the Messapian cavalry alarmed Achilita. He sensed the Messapian determination to annihilate his army right here, and it became difficult to maintain his previous calm.

Continue retreating or strengthen the defense? Achilita fell into a difficult choice once again.

But time was pressing. The Messapian cavalry had already charged right before their eyes. The light infantry hurriedly retreated to the flanks, but hindered by the cavalry, the Taranto heavy infantry could not retreat with full force and had to turn to fight, falling into a passive position from the start.

Achilita had no time for regret. Facing such a predicament, he ordered the light infantry to disperse the Messapian cavalry with arrows while notifying the officers to shorten the length of the heavy infantry phalanx and thicken the columns. At the same time, he ordered the soldiers at the rear of the phalanx to turn quickly, face the incoming enemy, and march forward a dozen meters. Thus, the entire formation changed from the original “Long Snake Formation” (single line) into a “Parallel Formation” (two lines back-to-back), with two parallel lines protecting each other’s rear.

Achilita believed: Even if my troops are temporarily passive, we can repel the Messapians with solid defense!

The Messapian cavalry at the rear had retreated to the flanks. The rumbling footsteps and sky-shaking shouts came clearly through the morning mist…

When the mass of black enemies drew near, the Taranto soldiers were shocked: not only was the number of enemies astonishing, but their attire was not that of Messapian soldiers. They held wooden shields and spears, wearing crude helmets and breastplates.

“Lord Achilita, it’s the Peucetians! It’s the Peucetians!!” Receiving the scout’s report, Achilita was equally shocked: The Messapians and Peucetians have allied! After decades of hatred and frequent conflict, the Messapians and Peucetians have actually united!!

Watching more and more Peucetian warriors charge over, Achilita trembled all over—not only worrying about the safety of this army but even more about the plight of Taranto…

***

“Congratulations, King of the Peucetians! The Tarantines have been surrounded by us!” Timocrates, the Archon of Egnatia, shouted ingratiatingly.

“Yes, that Achilita who handed you so many defeats is now surrounded by my brave warriors. Destroy them quickly! Then we go on to attack Brindisi!” The Peucetian King, Tremoni, beamed with joy, not forgetting to mock the Messapians.

However, half an hour later, the Taranto battle flag in the center of the encirclement still stood tall. Aside from compressing the encirclement smaller, the Messapian-Peucetian coalition forces had made no substantial progress. Instead, because the Taranto soldiers’ strength was concentrated, the offensive met with greater resistance.

The Peucetian King had led the campaign personally, bringing over ten thousand warriors. Added to the soldiers of Egnatia, their forces numbered more than double Achilita’s army.

Yet, despite having surrounded the opponent, the battle was proceeding with such difficulty.

The Peucetian King, the Archon of Egnatia, and the Peucetian generals all stared at the dust-filled battlefield with grave expressions.

“Fight! Men of Taranto, fight! Descendants of the hero Taras, do not stop wielding your spears! Remember, for every enemy you kill, your parents, wives, and children gain a measure of safety! …” In the center of the encirclement, Achilita galloped back and forth, dodging arrows and javelins that flew constantly, shouting angrily to boost morale.

His voice was hoarse, his warhorse snorted hot steam incessantly, yet he remained oblivious. He knew that this time he was likely doomed, but even if he died in battle, he would inflict heavy damage on the enemy to reduce the threat to his mother city.

Taranto’s formation had changed from “parallel lines” into a circle. Inspired by him, the light infantry in the center shot arrows without pause, disregarding fingers cut by bowstrings and strained arm muscles. The heavy infantry pressed tightly back-to-back, working together to withstand the enemy’s powerful crushing force. They held their spears high, stabbing outward and retracting ceaselessly from above the tightly arranged shield wall. Once a spearhead broke, they immediately drew their swords to continue hacking and killing… They knew their path to life was cut off; only a fight to the death remained. Thus, even as comrades fell beside them, their fighting spirit did not waver.

***

An hour passed. The Peucetian King’s face was livid because the Taranto battle flag still stood, while his own generals were requesting to pause the attack due to the warriors’ exhaustion and significant casualties.

“Trash, a bunch of trash! Are you still the descendants of the heroic Arcadian King Lycaon?! Look at the Greeks you have surrounded—they are not as tall as us, nor as numerous as us. If you are afraid even like this, I can only replace you and let true braves lead my warriors! …” Tremoni cursed loudly, waving his arms, his spear nearly sweeping across the face of the general on the horse in front of him.

“Respected King of the Peucetians, Achilita is indeed a famous general of Taranto, and the army he commands is indeed powerful! We still have to retake Brindisi; we should not waste too much of our military strength here!” Timocrates suppressed his schadenfreude and persuaded.

“You mean to stop fighting?” Tremoni glanced at him sideways, speaking with contempt.

“The reason the Tarantines fight to the death is that they have no way to escape. If our encirclement could open a path…” A secretive smile appeared on Timocrates’s face.

“You mean—” Tremoni was not a mediocre king; he had led armies on campaigns everywhere in his youth for the strength of Peucetia. At this moment, he was just too fixated on victory. Reminded by Timocrates, he immediately realized the plan. He cast his gaze toward the Messapian and Peucetian cavalry waiting quietly on the flanks of the battlefield. Combined, they numbered nearly a thousand riders, yet they had lost their usefulness because the enemy was surrounded.

“I have the same idea!” Tremoni puffed out his chest and spoke loudly to cover up his previous loss of composure. He urged his horse forward, pointing his spear at the Taranto battle flag standing in the center of the chaotic battlefield: “Just make sure not to let Achilita escape!”

Because Peucetia had numerous soldiers and generals, and Messapia urgently needed their help, the Messapian-Peucetian coalition discussed and chose to have the Egnatian infantry surrounding the west side open a path.