Because of Augustus's original order, the Ninth Legion was divided under Luga's personal command, and because the order to retreat was not clearly stated where the Ninth Legion was going, Luga played a trick and asked the Ninth Legion to follow him. Because of their status, several old generals were helpless, after all, the letter did not say anything about the Ninth Army. In this way, Luga justifiably collected these fifteen thousand men for his own use, and in order to stabilize the morale of the army, Luga overpaid the military salary, of course, with the expedition funds collected by Aetius.

Luga led his army to Trapani and landed, then to Syracuse to receive Tenaia, and then to the north through the Strait of Messina, stopping and stopping all the way to Naples for two months.

Luga's final destination was Rome, because he had received a letter from the Romans in the ancient city of Syractic. Letter from Ms. Prassitia. Luga only glanced at it, and then never touched the parchment.

Tenaia sat beside Luga, snuggled up to Luga's chest, and Luga just hugged her, playing with her curly blonde hair with her fingers. Tenaia noticed that Luga had been stroking a parchment letter along the way. The letter was delicately framed and scented, but Luga rubbed his fingers against it, even if it was worn off, and he looked a little distracted, probably because of the letter.

"What's wrong, my love?" Tenaia looked up at Lugar's melancholy face. Tenaia reached out and touched the letter in Luga's hand, but what Tenaia didn't expect was that Luga didn't reach out to stop Tenaia, but let her take it. "Is this the body?" Tenaia couldn't help asking, and as she spoke, she opened the letter, but she couldn't read the handwriting on it, the text was the patent of the Roman nobles, and the commoners couldn't read it. (Luga will understand this text as soon as he is born again, and it has to be said that it is a blessing from heaven or a miracle.) ）

"Augusta, Queen Regent. Plasettia's letter to me. Luga said, and couldn't help but snort coldly and continued: "The whole article is full of praise, praising me as a hero of Rome, a savior of the people, a triumphant, and a nemesis of the barbarians. Oh, there is no mention of my regret that I have not even attacked Carthage at all, but choose to forget automatically. "A letter of praise is less comfortable to Luga than sarcasm, Gala. How could it be that Platicia gave him a feast at this time instead of at his wedding? Lu Jia was puzzled, and in the end he had to find out for himself.

Luga had a headache, and Tenaia knew she couldn't help at all, so she put the letter back in Luga's palm untouched. Snuggled up in Luga's arms again, maybe only the hug of his lover can make Luga feel a little more comfortable.

After another half a month, Luga led a huge army to Rome without hurrying, and unlike the last arrival, the army was no longer turned away as outside Ravenna, but was welcomed by the Roman citizens. They were flattered by the phalanx of soldiers who were entering the city with flowers and wine, and this scene was very suitable for Luga's soldiers.

"Oh, great Luga! Praise the gods! ”

"Well done, taught us a hard lesson for those uncivilized barbarians, well done Luga!"

"Luga, well done!"

The citizens couldn't help but cheer, they regarded Luga as a hero who protected the country, so they gave Luga the treatment of a triumphant as if they were worshipping the praises from above, and Luga felt as if it had been rehearsed in advance, and there was no great surprise, although normal Romans liked such triumphal ceremonies the most.

The Ninth Legion marched through the streets of Rome in a phalanx, and the soldiers of the Roman Praetorian Guard, dressed in brass muscle cuirass and purple horned helmets and cloaks, led Luga and them slowly through the Arch of Constantine in the city of Rome, which was the most solemn moment.

"We succeeded, Luga!" Andrew looked up at the massive marble arch of the Arc de Triomphe and the welcoming citizens of Rome. It was a rite that belonged to the victors, and it was also coveted by a Roman soldier like Andrew. His eyes seemed to have been caught by the triumphal arch, and his trembling mouth said, "Is this our victory ceremony?" Oh my God, this must be a dream, am I telling the truth, Luga! The words grew more and more trembling, and Andrew even cried tears of joy as he stood behind Luga.

At this time, Luga stood on an ornately decorated carriage, wearing a laurel wreath and a red face, dressed in a ceremonial golden muscular cuirass with statues of angels carved into it. Underneath the breastplate was a red long-sleeved undergarment, covered with an equally bright red cape, an attire that only the victors were allowed to wear.

It looked very sacred, and he stood on the chariot and slowly passed by the road, enjoying the untouchable touch of the petals falling on his body, sniffing the remaining fragrance, listening to the cheers of the citizens and the screams of the maidens. But he remained expressionless, unmoved, and did not feel the slightest joy at the fact that this was his moment of victory, for he knew that he had not won the war at all!

"Comedy! Grand comedy! ”

Luga couldn't help but smile bitterly in his heart, these fooled people, they didn't know the truth of the matter at all, they only knew that the so-called Luga defeated the Vandals, but the Vandals did not suffer any losses in Carthage.

Before they knew it, they had reached a square in Rome, which was crowded with citizens, rich and poor. When Luga came, they cheered so loudly that Luga's mouth was open for fear that his eardrums would be shattered by the cheers. Luga was amazed at the number of citizens in the city of Rome, even though it had been a megacity of millions before the Visigoths sacked it. Having been plundered by barbarians, the citizens of Rome naturally hated the barbarians, and of course they needed a hero, a true Roman hero.

The cavalry of the Janissaries formed a phalanx in front of the Luga's chariot, and they rode their horses and carved a way through the crowd. The road leads to the end of the square, the Royal Palace of Augustus.

The steps of the palace were filled with the magnates of Rome, dressed in silk toga robes as if they were celebrating a holiday. Wearing laurel crowns, standing on either side of the red carpet, at the top of the red carpet, that is, at the highest of the steps, stood three people in purple robes, two women, and one man. They are Garra. Placidia, Valentinian III with his current wife Licchinia!

"It looks like the royal family is here!" Luga said to himself in his heart. But the closer the carriage became, the more panicked he became, because he vaguely felt that things were not so simple, and that the fact that the Purple Room was able to squander money so lavishly to hold this triumphal ceremony must have something for himself, not only because Theodosius II's adopted son was the reason why it was a family as a matter of course.

"What exactly do they want?" Luga gritted his teeth and pondered.

"Your Excellency, we have arrived!"

At some point, the carriage stopped, and the dismounted Praetorian Guard soldiers in front of them walked up to Luga's chariot to warn.

"Oh, oh!" Luga hurriedly responded, and jumped out of the carriage accompanied by Andrew. In front of him, the Praetorian Guard soldiers led their horses to both sides of the road, leaving Luga with a red carpet under his feet, leading straight up.

"Order the soldiers behind you to stand by." Luga turned back to Andrew and said, "Let the guards follow me until they stop." ”