Relieved of their spears, the legionaires pulled out short stabbing swords and went to work. Wild strikes slid off of tall, semi-cylindrical shields only to be countered by quick short jabs that left men reeling. Anywhere the madmen looked like they might break through, the Roman line was quickly reinforced by more eight-man squads until the pressure was lower. The legionaires bent, but would not break, and the all the while, the madmen suffered horrible casualties, their crazed zeal facing up against the deadly science of war.

Gaius himself was only drawn into the fighting twice, once when a band of madmen literally hurled themselves onto the legionaires to bear them down to the ground so the ones behind them them could pour through, and again when his orders weren't relayed because a sub-officer was hit by a thrown rock. As great a master of the roman fencing style as there was, Gaius quickly dispatched any that got through to him to go back to issuing orders. He wasn't especially worried about these ones. It was the men in black at the back of the army who made him nervous. They looked like they meant business, and they were getting close to the front lines all to quickly.