“Run! We can’t beat these monsters!”

“Belay that order! Stand your ground and give your life for the Emperor! Anyone that retreats shall be punished by death!” 

 “Incoming! Incoming!”

“Shields! Where are the shields! I’m a damn archer! In the name of Jupiter, why am I in the front? Where’s cover...ah!”

“Not one step back! Guards, execute anyone that retreats...guards! Guards?”

The first wave of Alphian assault punched a hole through the Roman ranks. Did the Alphians kill a lot of enemies? Not really. The Gravitational Fields crushed no more than a few hundred victims. The Alphian blasts killed a few hundred more. 

But the Romans weren’t killing machines only limited by their numbers and their physical strength. Among their attributes was something the Wardens, the Purifiers, and the Alphians didn't have. It was a category called morale, and the number corresponding to that attribute was hardly satisfying. 

These elite warriors would gladly lay down their lives on the path forward, riddled by arrows. They could see their comrades be crushed by charging horsemen and still fight. Even when going toe to toe with Jean’s Warden units, they stood their ground. It was only when Jean brought in things like the Power of Death and Worldships that they started to route. 

Just like how the Romans could deal with war machines shooting strange projectiles but couldn’t understand souls or Worldships capable of simulating the power of dimensions, they couldn’t possibly comprehend the Gravitational Fields either. The sight of their comrades being pulled into oblivion, screaming the entire time as they went down, was too much for them to handle. 

And worst of all, in the end, not a single corpse was left. There was nothing left on this earth that echoed of the struggle that once occurred.

Perhaps if the legionnaires were given some time to recollect themselves and re-establish their faith, they could fare better against the supernatural weapons, but the Alphians would never give them this opportunity. 

Blast after blast went after the routers, yet not all of them went in for the kill. Alpha-Sierra knew if he wanted to crush 12,000 Romans heads on, there would be a lot of casualties, so he tried to hit their morale before hitting their numbers. 

Most of the Romans who routed were allowed to run into their comrades behind. The few legionnaires and officers that stood their ground were gunned down. Instead of killing them, the blasts hit their arms and legs. The wounded legionnaires collapsed and were trampled by their fleeing comrades. Their pained cries echoed through the field. 

The men in the back were horrified! They didn't really saw the Gravitational Field at work, but they did see their brothers in arms, some of the men that they knew since a while back and have fight together with, turn and run like frightened children. The majority of the army hasn’t even seen the Alphians, yet fear has already crept into their heart like a wildfire. 

Sometimes fear of the unknown was the greatest fear of all. As the routers ran through their formation, the legionnaires started to think. What type of cruelty could do something like this to this many battle-hardened warriors? Could they fare any better than their fleeing brothers? The gradually dying sound of screaming victims only added to the horror.

This time, the encroaching Alphians only had to use a few Gravitational Fields to route entire lines. Most of the work was already done for them.  

And just like this, from line to line, the best Roman warriors of the Roman Empire were sent on the run. 

The Alphians were wise. As former human beings, even after the transformation, they knew very well how to manipulate the very thing they got rid of. Alpha-Sierra knew, even if they emptied their Gravitational Fields on the Romans, there was only so much they could do, and he still needed to preserve ammunition for the later battles.

So he went for the heart, and with minimal ammunition cost, tens of thousands of Romans were sent on the run. All the Alphians had to do was move forward and fire. This time, they no longer spared the routers. Shot after shot went for the chest or the head. Countless died with their backs facing the Alphians. Instead of dying while inflicting maximum damage on the Alphians, they perished meaningless to the overall battle. 

On the hill, Jean crossed her legs and sat down. The Reapress side of her could see countless fresh souls floating above the battlefield. Most of them were, ironically, lively. They still retained most of the memories of their mortal lives, but if nothing was done, that would change very soon.

Jean did something. A single wave from her sent all the souls pouring in. Jean reached out, going through hundreds of souls in just seconds. She worked expertly and efficiently. Only the memories of death of the Romans were collected. The rest were dumped without her wasting another glance. 

Her time was precious. 

As the screams from the battlefield continued, Jean started to work through the memories. It was hardly a comfortable process. The experience of the dead were completely reflected into her mind. The ones killed by a single blast? Fine. The ones maimed and then trampled? A little tougher. But those slowly crushed into bits and pieces too small for the eyes to see? Now that was hard. 

Even Jean had to control herself from screaming, but she pushed on. Pain was a part of death, and understanding death meant getting closer to everything death meant, whether it was the pain, the hopelessness, or the absolute void that ultimately consumes everything. 

No wonder the Protectors decided to retire all the Reapers and Reapresses as soon as they could. Becoming a powerful Reaper or Reapress meant feeling death more times than anyone alive ever should. You think almost getting ran over by a car will change your life? Try actually getting ran over by a car...ten thousand times. Take a guess what that’ll do to a sane, emotional person. 

In the field, some of the Romans were so terrified that they forgot where they were heading. When they saw the rushing current in the river, they came to a screeching stop. But the ones behind them weren’t as informed. Every sound of blaster firing and men collapsing screamed at them to keep running. So it was no surprise when they ran into the stopped legionnaires in the front and literally shoved them into the current. 

They sank like stones. 

Now those legionnaires were the ones halted in horror, but they quickly realized the irony of the situation. The armored men behind them crashed into them, and what happened just seconds ago was replayed on them. The only difference? The killers have become the killed. 

Eventually, after a few hundred stones in the river, the Romans finally came to a halt. When the front was blocked by the river and there was an army of metal aliens in the back, one Roman at the edge of the river silently praised god for his luck and made the next best decision. 

“Go to the sides! Run along the river!”

That attempt was cut short when the remaining 6 Alphighters returned. 12 string of lasers ripped through the tightly packed enemy lines with no opposition. The lucky legionnaire who advised for going to the side took three shots to the body. It was tough to find a piece of corpse larger than a human palm. 

Not so lucky after all. 

Using that opening, the Alphians moved to surround the Romans on all three sides. Blasters took down legionnaires as they wondered what to do. 

The entire time, Jean sat back in safety and felt her powers grow. If she could laugh, she would. Get stronger and stronger without having to slay a single person herself? That was what dreams were made of. 

On the other end of the river, what was left of the Roman legions watched, paralyzed, as their comrades were slaughtered like sheep.  

“How did they get so far behind the defenses? I will have Decimus’s head, along with that of all our scouts!” Even Emperor Marcus was tilted. Where the hell did these attackers come from? His legions were what made him the Emperor. Lose some of them, and his position would be challenged. Lose all of them, and he should be packing up and getting out of here at this very moment. 

And now, 12,000 pieces of foundations of his throne were getting removed right before his eyes. 

“We have to do something!” One of the generals screamed. His hand gripped tightly onto the hilt of his sword.

“There’s nothing we can do until we fix the bridge.” Another general said quietly as he observed the slaughter unfold. “Once that’s done, we can take caution and make sure something like this doesn’t happen again, yet as of the moment, we are out of options.” 

The Emperor held his fist tight. 

In the field, bodies were already piling up into a small hill. Even if they were all corpses laying flat on the ground, ten thousand corpses still took up quite a bit of space. At this point, the last thousands of Romans have realized there was nowhere to run to. 

When trapped, even the softest beasts would show their teeth. 

The Romans drew whatever weapons they had and formed a desperately courageous yet extremely pathetic charge. 

The Alphians pushed forward steadily. Their footsteps were slow, yet no amount of Roman resistance could put those footsteps to a complete halt. Shields were shattered. Armors were melted. Legionnaires and equites found their graves in the piece of land next to the river. 

A few hundred men decided to try their chances at the river. Considering Jean was able to locate their souls floating in the air just moments later, it was safe to assume that was a one-way trip. 

As the last Roman corpse went cold, Jean finally opened her eyes and stood up. 

Deep down, Jean realized she was in a strange state. Her understanding of death was amplified countless times. Her mind was filled with all sorts of death. Dead from drowning. Dead from trampeding. Dead because a diving Alphighter ripped you to shreds. 

Yet the growth to her Power of Death was...limited. 

Jean knew she was far from the point where she understood death completely. She still had a lot to learn, yet for some reason, the understanding alone couldn’t make her stronger. 

Odd. 

At the same time, the Romans on the wrong side of the river, and of fate, were finally handled. The rest of the forces were in a mourning silence when they saw something that made their eyes widen in anger.

Some of the Alphian units knelt down beside the corpses and started chopping their heads off. 

“Those barbarians! How dare they desecrate the bodies of our fallen? They will pay for this with blood!” 

The general couldn’t remember when was the last time he saw something like this. Barbarian was the only word he could use to describe the brutality. Why would anyone do something like this? A show of feat? A demonstration of strength? 

The rest of the Roman High Command were silent. Finally, the general snapped around to his underlings.

“Archers! Where are our archers? This cannot go unanswered!” 

Hundreds of archers rushed to the front and drew their bow. On the other side, hundreds of Alphian units confronted them fearlessly. All of a sudden, a strange battle ensued. Alphians and Romans fired at each other across the lake. At this distance, the Alphians could dodge the arrows with some accuracy, and the Roman shields offered some protection against Alphian blasts. 

In the middle of all this, individual Alphians casually harvested heads.

And Jean gladly sat back down and claimed the bonus souls that fell, Alphian and Roman alike. 

Eventually, the Alphians were finished with their task. The units that survived the battle, over 800 of them, slowly retreated from the shootout. 

The Romans watched on helplessly. None of them had flight, which meant the river became an impenetrable wall for the moment. 

If Emperor Marcus knew what the Alphians were really doing with the taken heads, he would try to cross the river even if it would cost him half his army just to stop the Alphians from retrieving those heads. Why? Because the thousands of heads the Alphians collected meant thousands of brains to insert into empty shells. It would be a matter of time before they could become thousands of fresh Alphian troops. 

And the Alphian fleet would just snowball on and on into an unstoppable beast of war. 

But the Emperor had no idea. If the lack of information was a person, then he has already punched Emperor Marcus in the face, knocked him over, and kicked him repeatedly. 

The rest of the Alphians retreated into the Alphian transports, along with the captured heads and the destroyed Alphians. Some of the fallen Alphian shells still had the brains inside intact. After a simple surgery, these brains could return to the battlefield once again in a fresh body. 

Jean returned to the Alphian transport she came here with. Alphian Lucus walked over beside her. Neither spoke. There was simply no need. 

Jean knew this victory would come at a cost. Unless the Alphians throw all their forces into battle to stop him, Emperor Marcus would arrive at Decimus’s position in just days. And when he does, he would not be happy. 

But Jean wasn’t too bothered. It has already been established that Decimus and Marcus would not be friends. One wanted to move up, and the other hoped to remain alive. There was a natural conflict. 

In that case, might as well throw away the non-existing relationship in exchange for a cut to Marcus’s forces. After all, the Emperor was the most powerful of all the Roman warlords. If she didn't tame his powers, she would find herself in a rough position. 

Jean didn't worry too much about the Emperor. If she had the free time, she might as well spend them on worrying about what was going on with the Power of Death. 

Only fools would be caught up in a lost cause.