Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1022: Decisive Battle of Selinus (2)

Mago's heart clenched again. His cavalry was his greatest asset, the very foundation of his confidence in defeating the main Daionian Army in a pitched battle. Now, the Numidian Cavalry—who made up the vast majority of his mounted forces—had mutinied. He was beside himself with anxiety.

"Have the Mauretanian Cavalry and the Lusitanian Cavalry joined the mutiny?!" This was the first question that leapt to Mago's mind.

"Their camps remain quiet. They haven't joined the mutiny, but they haven't stepped in to help us suppress it either."

"Those damn barbarians!" Mago cursed under his breath. He knew perfectly well that hastily hired mercenaries like the Mauretanians and Lusitanians would never hold any true loyalty to Carthage, but their willingness to sit by and watch drove home the sheer urgency of the crisis. He immediately barked his orders. "Go tell Sticamo to take his troops and crush the mutiny of the Numidian Cavalry at once! He must not let them escape the camp under any circumstances! Tell him to split off a detachment to secure our Supply Camp! And... assure him that Gisco's reinforcements will be returning to the camp any moment now!"

Mago watched the cavalry scout ride off into the distance, his face tight with anxiety. A short while later, he saw Gisco's troops filing out through the city gates. He had barely breathed a sigh of relief when another cavalryman galloped up to the walls below. "Reporting to Lord Mago! Daionian forces have been spotted to the east! They are advancing toward the camp!"

East of the camp?! The Daionian troops entrenched on Mount Minoa had finally emerged?! Mago had been praying for this for days, but now the news only sent a spike of tension through him. The Daionians clearly intended to launch an assault while the Carthaginian Camp was gripped by chaos.

"How many of them are there?" Mago demanded.

"We didn't receive any prior warning from our scouts. The sentries on the camp walls spotted them. We can't give an exact estimate, but their numbers look massive."

The Carthaginian Army's patrol scouts were almost entirely Numidian Cavalry. Now that they had mutinied, Mago suspected they had been in league with the Daionians from the very beginning. If the camp sentries were only just noticing the Daionian Army's approach, the enemy must already be dangerously close. The situation was dire. Realizing this, Mago swiftly gave his next command. "Find Gisco immediately! Tell him to take his reinforcements and defend the camp from the Daionian assault."

Orders issued, Mago had no desire to linger on the city walls. He, Bomilcar, and the rest of their retinue hurried down from the ramparts and rushed straight toward the camp. As the supreme commander of the army, he had to take personal command of the base, steady his men's morale, and crush the enemy's plot.

Just as they were about to enter the camp, Mago suddenly reined in his horse. He looked at the towering earthen walls ahead, then glanced at the anxious faces of the entourage clustered around him—even Bomilcar looked tense. Breaking into a confident smile, Mago declared, "Do not panic! The Daionians' plot will fail. We already purged the Numidian ranks a few days ago, and those veteran Iberian officers are keeping a close watch. A massive uprising in the Numidian camp is simply impossible.

"As for those Numidian Cavalry, they can't effectively maneuver inside a cramped camp anyway. Sticamo will crush them with ease! Frankly, I'm thrilled to see the Daionian forces finally show themselves after cowering like rats on Mount Minoa. Now, not only can we crush their assault against our fortified walls, but once our various forces converge, we can launch a devastating counterattack, annihilate them, and turn the tide of this entire war! Gentlemen, this is a golden opportunity. You are all about to become the heroes who saved Carthage!"

Mago's words cut through the gloom in his followers' hearts like a ray of sunlight. Their eyes began to shine with renewed vigor, and they looked forward to the coming battle with eager anticipation.

...

East of Selinus, the Daionian Army marched in a long, winding column, advancing slowly along the coastal road. In the center of the formation, beneath two gleaming golden royal banners, rode Davos, the King of Daionia. He sat upon his horse, chatting and laughing freely with Henipolis at his side, looking as relaxed as if he were on a countryside outing rather than heading into battle.

Riding just behind him, Tolmides couldn't help but offer a warning. "Your Majesty, we are about to enter Selinus' territory. Shouldn't we keep our distance from the Carthaginian Camp for now? If the Carthaginian Army decides to attack us, it will be much easier for us to retreat."

"Hasn't the Mountain Scout Corps already scouted the enemy's disposition? Mago sent his main forces to assault the inner city of Selinus today. There are very few troops left guarding the Carthaginian Camp. Furthermore—" Davos pointed toward the thick plumes of black smoke rising into the sky ahead, his expression turning serious. "The Numidians have already made their move as agreed. Naturally, we must honor our end of the bargain. We need to draw the Carthaginians' attention and force Mago into making the wrong call."

"Exactly! His Majesty has always kept his promises!" Henipolis chimed in from the side.

Tolmides shot Henipolis a sidelong glance.

Just then, Davos turned around and smiled. "There's no need to worry so much. If we can see the black smoke rising from the Carthaginian Camp, then Alexis, Amyntas, Matonis, and Prosous can definitely see it too. I expect they have already sprung into action according to the plan. Do you really think the Carthaginians have any troops left to spare against us? I highly doubt it."

...

A massive, thick wall stretched out between the main district of Selinus and its largest port. Over the recent days, the Daionian soldiers and fleet sailors had built upon the original Inner Wall, reinforcing it to be far taller and thicker than before. Now that Mago's Iberian army had fully breached the inner city walls of Selinus, this new barricade stood as the Daionian defenders' absolute last line of defense for the port.

Hasdrubal felt a pang of bitter regret. He firmly believed that without this damned wall standing in their way, his army could have capitalized on their momentum, utterly crushed the broken remnants of the Daionian forces, and conquered the entirety of Selinus and its port.

Yet, if Hasdrubal had been able to look past that wall and into the Port District behind it, he would have been thoroughly shocked. The "broken remnants" he envisioned were nothing but an illusion. At this very moment, the entire Port District was packed to the brim with a dense sea of Daionian legionaries. A vast, surging tide of black armor blanketed the area, standing in stark contrast against the deep blue waters of the harbor. These weren't just the battered survivors of the First Legion and Second Legion who had suffered heavy losses in the grueling, days-long defense. The ranks also swelled with the Third Legion and the Lucanian Reserve Legion—who had previously been biding their time in the eastern mountains of Sicily—as well as the Fourth Legion, Sixth Legion, and Tenth Legion, all of whom had been holding down Mount Minoa. Every single one of these units had been secretly ferried into the Port of Selinus under the cover of darkness over the past two nights, transported by the combined efforts of the Sicilian Fleet and the Katane Transport Fleet.

Now, a massive army of over fifty thousand men was gathered in one place—and certainly not just to hold the Port of Selinus. Fully armed and armored, the soldiers waited in eager anticipation for their Legion Commanders to give the order.

Atop the imposing wall stood a host of the kingdom's highest-ranking generals, figures renowned among the Daionian people. Alexis, Amyntas, Epithenes, Matonis, Lizarus, Oliphus, Trotidis, and Melisander—every one of them a battle-hardened, highly decorated commander or Legion Commander. They gazed intently out into the distance, completely ignoring the Carthaginian soldiers swarming below the wall. Even the deafening roar of slaughter right beneath them couldn't break their iron focus.

Suddenly, Melisander shouted in pure excitement. "Fire! The Carthaginian Camp is on fire!"

Amyntas immediately widened his eyes and peered in the direction the younger man was pointing. At first, he saw nothing. He was just scowling, fully prepared to berate Melisander for a false alarm, when the words caught in his throat. Faint wisps of black smoke had just begun to curl into the sky from the northwest. One plume, then two, then three...

"Young eyes really are the sharpest!" Alexis laughed warmly.

"Kid, I think you're better suited to being a lookout on a warship," Amyntas said, punching Melisander in the shoulder to cover his slight embarrassment.

Excitement brimmed on the face of every single Legion Commander. Oliphus raised his voice. "Gentlemen, Hades bless us! The Numidian Cavalry have moved precisely according to plan. Isn't it time we made our move?!"

"I say we—" Amyntas started, but Alexis quickly cut him off.

"Let's wait just a little longer. Wait until the Carthaginian soldiers below the walls begin to retreat. That will give our men the best opening to launch our offensive."

Amyntas gave a dry cough. Although the offensive on the port side lacked a single supreme commander, Alexis was undoubtedly right. The other generals nodded in agreement, forcing down their surging adrenaline as they quietly waited for the battlefield to shift.

In truth, they didn't have to wait long. Very soon, the Carthaginian forces below the walls began to pull back.

"We can launch the attack!" Amyntas roared, his words met with eager, resounding agreement from the rest of the commanders.

To execute this massive offensive, the defenders of Selinus had deliberately knocked two extra gates through the wall over the past few days. The left wing was entrusted to Matonis, who would command the Second Legion and the Sixth Legion. The central vanguard would be led by Alexis, commanding the Third Legion, the Fourth Legion, and the Tenth Legion. The right wing fell to Amyntas, overseeing the First Legion and the Lucanian Reserve Legion. The center boasted the highest troop count and the most fully intact legion structures, as it was destined to spearhead the main assault while simultaneously standing ready to reinforce its allied flanks at a moment's notice.