The shields trembled—not from fear, but from the tension of the moment.The XIII Gemina held the right flank of the Roman first line, drawn up on a gentle slope. In front of them surged a tide of bodies, spears, and shields storming uphill with wild fury.
The Helvetii came in waves, shouting, pounding on their shields, blasting horns and war drums as if Taranis himself were driving them toward death.
Sextus swallowed hard. His mouth tasted like iron.
"Shields up!" Scaeva bellowed.
The impact was like the collision of two worlds.The first enemies bounced off the Roman wall, but the pressure didn't stop. There were too many. They screamed in guttural tongues, struck without fear, attacked with the strength of desperation. The Roman ranks held, but every blow was a wager against fate.
Sextus turned just in time to see a young legionary from the neighboring cohort fall, a spear buried in his gut. Another pulled back. The shield line opened on the right.
"The flank is breaking!" someone shouted.
Scaeva rushed to close the gap, but a barbarian club slammed into his helmet, cracking it with a sickening thud. The centurion dropped to his knees, stunned and bleeding.
Panic spread for a heartbeat.
Then Sextus stepped forward.
Without waiting for orders, without looking back, he took the open space, raised his shield, blocked a blow, and drove his gladius into the enemy's thigh. He didn't think. He just moved.
"Close ranks—on me!" he shouted with a voice he didn't know he had.
Several legionaries hesitated… then obeyed.
They formed beside him. The gap was closed.The enemy, caught off guard by the sudden resistance, hesitated.
Sextus glanced over. Scaeva was still breathing, but not moving.He dropped down, grabbed the centurion by the collar of his lorica, and—with Atticus's help—dragged him back toward the rear, while the others held the line.
"You lead now, Sextus," said Atticus, panting. "You know what you're doing."
And just like that, Sextus was in command of their section.
He shouted short, sharp orders. Realigned what was left. Repelled another charge. Stepped over blood and broken bodies without flinching. His shield was shattered, his gladius stuck in a rib, and he had to drop it. He drew a backup. Kept fighting.
When the horn finally sounded for regrouping, the right flank was still standing.
And from the hill, Caesar had seen everything.