Chapter 816 Menes's Plight (Part-2)
Just as Menes was about to charge to his doom by smashing into the Kaiser family mercenaries, he detected a sudden ripple of chaos and fear spread across the tight formation of the unit right in the middle.
And then large shouts of panicked confusion followed.
The reason for this was glaringly obvious, as Menes could clearly see a group of riders, numbering around thirty, attacking the completely defenseless backs of the phalangites, dealing devastating casualties.
They were all cloaked, foiling any attempts at identification but the way they attacked and fought spoke volumes, for it made it clear to Menes that all these men were all trained warriors of the highest calibers, with many of them even able to match his own prowess.
This level of skill combined with the low numbers made it clear to the black warrior that these were no regular soldiers but an elite unit, most likely bodyguards or perhaps frighteningly, assassins!
But whichever group they belonged to, for now, it seemed they were on his side and they had presented him with a great opportunity.
For they had disrupted the tight formation!
"Attack!"
And there was no way the experienced Menes was going to let that chance go.
So willing his horse the bulky general himself led the force immediately on a fierce counterattack, smashing into the panicked infantry with deadly force, and claiming many lives.
And then started to engage in a deadly hand to hand melee.
Due to the efforts of the unknown ally, Menes did not have to charge his heavy cavalry with his lance through the rough terrain in a risky move, but could instead commit to a far more convenient skirmishing battle.
Here the trained men on horsemen used their height advantage to wield their spears and swords expertly, stealthily navigating them around the phalangites' shield to reap many lives, while using their own shield and sometimes simply their heavy armor to negate many deadly jabs.
Menes had divided his 112 men in a sort of square formation, with three rows of 16 men, totaling 50 on the front, and 31 men on each side, arranged in two rows consisting of 16 or 15 men, with the back being left open.
In this way, even if the adjacent phalanx units tried to swing around to attack Menes's flank, the general would have some sort of protection.
Although this would likely not be enough to defeat the enemy, Menes hoped that he would be able to inflict enough casualties to make these men retreat.
After all, all 112 men under him were willing to die.
Were the 1,000 mercenaries willing to do the same just to make their commander the mercenary leader?
Menes would put his money on - Not.
So the general fought on, even though his tired body tried for respite, as he kept telling himself that the enemy must break before he did, that he would be not allowed to fail, and that he must live on.
It seemed that having escaped such a close encounter with death, the man had gained a new sense of appreciation for life as his nice house, his nice clothes, his nice food, and even his nice slaves came to his mind.
So Menes was eager to keep on fighting.
But while Menes and his men were filled with fighting zeal, many of the attacking phalangites, hearing the commotion at the back panicked!
They thought they were being attacked by that 2,000 flanking force that they had spotted earlier, and assumed that the war elephant charge had failed.
And this sort of thought was very natural, as that was the most logical answer.
And determining anything else was very hard given the nature of their formation made it very hard for the phalangites to turn and look back.
Thus two of the four units decided to cut their losses and run.
While the other two stayed, being the most loyal of the men to the mercenary commander, as well as being baited by the fact that their prize was literally in front of them, just a mere sword stab away.
Menes was after all valiantly fighting on the very first echelon, swinging his massive greatsword to not just slash his enemies, but literally smash many bones using the sheer force of impact.
If these men could get lucky and get a good hit on the man, all their sacrifices would have been worth it.
It was with these thoughts that these men kept on fighting.
But soon their condition became even worse, as the 2,000 men under Remus did eventually come to join the fray, completely enveloping the five hundred desperadoes within minutes and just after a few hits from them, all the ambitions of the 500 were turned to dust, as they fled chaotically into the open ground to be cut down later or laid dead on the ground, underneath a pool of their own blood, fear, and regret etched on many's faces.
At the last moments of their life, many did bitterly think back on their folly, wishing they had taken the chance to retreat when the heavens had allowed them to.
"Sorry, Menes, we were late." But such emotions were of no concern to the leader of the 2,000 who had helped end the battle, as Remus quickly walked up to the general issuing this apology, addressing the man casually by force of habit.
And then the boy quickly explained why it had taken him so.
"Captain! Look! The General! He is being attacked! He is in trouble!"
As Remus was coming to hit Perseus on the back, he laid witness to the enemy lines disintegrating before he could there, which left him feeling both joyous at the result but also a bit regretful that there was no glory left for him.
So, seeing there was no battle to be had, tasked his contingent to meet up with the general as indicated by the huge blue colored standard that denoted his position.
But as the group approached the place, they were equally stunned and horrified to see a thin line of blue about to be imminently assaulted by an overwhelming tide of red, with the blue clearly being their entire central command.
Hence Piseus's alarmed call to Remus.
"Hurry! We need to hurry!' And Remus's command was expected, as then breaking Alexander's protocol of the commander always staying at the back, Remus instead brought his horse right to the frontlines, intending to personally lead the rescue.
*Trumpet*! *Trumpet*! *Trumpet*!
But the distinct roars of a certain beast that Remus had gotten very used to hearing defeated that endeavor even before it could start.
For almost at the same instant he had given the command, this deadly blare pierced his ear, and then looking around, Remus found both his left and right side were blanketed by a screen of pitch black darkness!
Yes, the head mahout of the elephants was a very clever guy and upon getting Manuk's order, instead of directly facing Remus head on and putting his elephants under the threat of javelin and spear throws, he had instead opted to split his forces in two and swung around to hit Remus on the flanks!
This way, because the legionaries were concentrating on looking straight ahead failed to spot these massive beasts until they were near enough to smell.
And by that point, there was no time to counter these deadly charging behemoths.
"Scatter!"
"Scatter!"
"Scatter!"
So Remus only had the state of mind to shout this single word as the great white tusks of the beasts appeared to be just about to skewer his men, while arrow fire rained from the archers placed above.
*Trumpet!* *Trumpet!* *Trumpet!*
The maddened beasts roared like the devil as they crashed straight into the underbelly of Remus's formations, and destroyed it like fragile glass, causing the men to panic and run,
"Run!"
"Get away!"
"Shield from the arrows!"
"Save me!"
At that moment, the 2,000 strong force had turned into 2,000 panicking mob, as Remus lost control of most of his forces.
And if Perseus was there to see this he would have probably died from a heart burn out of regret.
For the entire retreat had been predicted on the
And if he had managed to think of this strategy and could predict the result of the charge, perhaps the battle would have been very different indeed.
But fortunately for Menes, that did not happen.
Though then again, it could be argued that without the lines breaking, the battlefield would not be so chaotic, and Remus would have been able to spot these huge four legged titans from miles away.
So perhaps he would not be caught off guard like he was.
But such ifs and buts could only be relegated to theory crafters.
For now though, with Remus's forces scattered, the elephants did not actually choose to stay and fight, trying to rake up the kills.
The head mahoot knew his limits and having disrupted the enemy formation and bought time for the king to make his escape, he could confidently say he had done his job.
Now, it was time to exit the battlefield while he still could, for he did not wish to share the fate of that mercenary commander.
This let Remus quickly gather his shaken but not wounded force and finally come to Menes's rescue.
And with that mystery solved, Menes turned to face the other group who had handed him a crucial hand in his time of need, wondering about their origins.
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