Maximus sat on a dry, large stone. On the surface, he seemed calm, but in reality, he was somewhat anxious and uneasy. However, the bustling scene of labor before him allowed him to feel some peace of mind.
At this moment, Flanitnus walked over.
"Look, bad news has come again. Go on, how many people have run away today?" Maximus said jokingly, seemingly accustomed to it.
"This time, it's not too bad. Only three, all from the Third Legion," reported the military officer who had just finished counting the troops of each unit.
"Not bad, only three. Fewer by the day." Maximus pulled a handful of grass, rubbed it in his hand, and said gravely, "It seems those who wanted to leave have mostly left. Those who remain are brothers with firm resolve, willing to follow us!"
Flanitnus said nothing, but thought: If you allowed the supply camp like the soldiers to leave freely, perhaps it wouldn't be as relaxed as it is now.
