The Mad Tycoon of Rome

Chapter 24 - Decisive Battle 

Three days later, Crassus issued an order to annihilate the rebels encamped in the hills.

The Roman army immediately went into battle.

The scene of the 8 corps moving in unison was majestic enough to be thought of as a human wave.

In fact, since the siege had already ended, the rebels were like rats in a dock.

There was no need to attack in this situation.

This was because it was natural that the enemies who were out of food would self-destruct if they were just surrounded.

The reason Crassus, unaware of this, launched an all-out attack was simple.

"Pompeius... he won't help me until the end."

Crassus gnashed his teeth as he looked around the corps that were all ready to attack.

“A guy who has already built up enough armies is coming out so greedy.”

Crassus originally intended to continue the siege for at least a week or more before starting the battle.

It might be possible to starve them to death, but if he goes that far against a half-destroyed rebel army, he might be evaluated as being too passive.

After all, it was possible to easily annihilate them no matter how they fought.

When he posted the next report, he fought valiantly at the front.

However, the plan was thwarted by Pompey's legions returning to Rome faster than expected.

Having already reached the northern part of the Italian peninsula, he began to move south at a frightening speed.

Reports that Pompey's legions had passed west of Capua reached Crassus' camp just yesterday.

Ultimately, Crassus abandoned plans to continue the siege and decided to launch a general assault.

If Pompey's Legion joined, the two would share the credit for subjugating the rebels.

It was an absolutely unacceptable result from Crassus' point of view.

The movement of the Roman army, which suddenly entered a battle posture, was of course visible to the eyes of the rebels on the hill.

"Are you thinking of coming in?"

Crixus muttered with an incomprehensible expression.

They were the ones who had formed a solid siege until yesterday. They had no idea what the wind was blowing all of a sudden.

"Anyway, good news for us. I was wondering if we should launch an all-out attack tomorrow."

The food the rebels had was slowly running out. Honestly, no matter how long it was, they couldn't afford to last more than a week. Of course, to charge into the Roman camp is almost suicidal. But it was a situation where there was no other way.

“On the way to the end, we can fight coolly.”

Just because the Romans switched to attack did not give the rebels a chance. However, there was hope that they could even try to fight in a situation where they could do nothing and lose.

“Asure, once again tell your men to prepare thoroughly.

“Yes. By the way, Captain, are you really going to fight on the front line?

"Anyway, this is the final battle. As I said before, I won't leave the command to you. Keep in mind what I said yesterday."

"Aren't you overdoing it? Didn't you go all the way to the camp of the Roman army alone last time? If the Romans had cheated then, we would have lost our commander-in-chief really absurdly."

"If so, it would have been better. We are not equal opponents to them, but only slave rebels. But capturing and executing the captain who asked for a meeting alone? It would have been a great laughing stock. In the first place, the pride of the Romans can't allow that."

Seeing that the Roman army was fully prepared for battle, Crixus raised his sword straight up toward the sky.

Following Crixus, the 30,000-strong death squad drew their swords and raised them above their heads.

The sight of sunlight reflecting off the blade and spreading over the hills was truly spectacular.

"Listen, proud comrades!"

Crixus raised his voice.

"I won't say anything long. It was an honor to be able to fight alongside you until now. Let's show our last will to those Roman bastards! Don't be afraid. I will lead the way. No one here will suffer the shame of falling with a sword in the back. Mara!"

At the same time, Crassus also drew his weapon and aimed it at the top of the hill.

"All troops, line up and advance! Today is the day of great victory. The heroes who put this rebellion to rest will be you and me, no one else!"

"Wow!"

The footsteps of 80,000 soldiers shook the earth.

30,000 rebels running over the hills.

Conversely, 50,000 Roman legionnaires attacked and climbed hills.

The fighting began with the throwing spears of the soldiers in the forefront of the Roman army embroidering the air.

At the same time, the front line of the youngest soldiers charged forward.

"Kill the rebels!"

"Don't lose! Let's give the Romans one last shot!"

A melee ensued between the two sides. Since the terrain was not suitable for cavalry, there was no choice but to win with this kind of honest power struggle.

Swearing, screaming, and the sound of weapons clashing overlapped dozens of times.

However, the inability to use cavalry was no disadvantage to the Romans.

Rather, it was the hand-to-hand combat in which infantry confront each other like this reveals the true value of the Roman army.

The hastati, who have a lot of stamina, consume the enemy's stamina, and the seasoned Principes, who were placed right in the back row, subdue the enemies in earnest.

The triari, composed of the oldest veterans, stand by at the rear. Then, when the situation came to move tactically, he was organically put into the front line to assist his allies.

This was the traditional formation of the Roman infantry of the past, the manipular system.

Thanks to this formation, the Roman army was able to show organic movements that other forces could not dare to surpass.

After Marius' military reform, the division of the three-line system was broken down and armament was unified, but the tradition of utilizing this systematic flow of ranks did not completely disappear.

Individual combat might be that a gladiator would overpower a Roman soldier, but the difference was reversed in a group battle.

Moreover, among the soldiers of the rebels, there were only a few gladiators who were good at individual combat.

Naturally, the fight turned in favor of the Romans.

He stabbed the rebels with his spatha and gladius, split their skulls with his spear, and cut the necks of those who fell with his shield.

No matter how much the rebels burned their lives to resist, there was a difference in power that could not be filled.

If you can create the strongest army with only mental strength, there will be no country in the world that struggles to increase military power.

"The central ranks need reinforcements. Send in hundreds of empty hands!"

"The side has collapsed! Breakthrough intensively!"

Under the command of the centurions, the Roman army moved with precision as if it were one body.

These centurions, who manage the troops in the right place at the right time on the front line, can be said to be the backbone of the Roman army.

Especially when it becomes a power contest between infantry like this, their ability shines even more.

The rebels started to lose their strength.

While the numbers of the Roman army hardly dwindled, the number of rebels dwindled rapidly over time.

If it weren't for the indomitable fighting spirit to show the last courage, it would have already collapsed.

It was tenaciously holding on with only one spirit that is not afraid of death.

It wasn't that it didn't work.

Even though it had already collapsed in fear, the battle was maintained even under strange circumstances.

As Crixus said, no one turned their back.

The wounds on the bodies of the dying rebels were all concentrated on the torso and face.

Besides that, there was one more reason why the Rebels hadn't collapsed yet.

It was thanks to the struggle of Crixus and the gladiators he leads, who were fighting bloody battles on the front line.

"Now, come! You will not be able to end this war without crossing my corpse!"

Crixus let out a thunderous roar and thrust his sword into the Roman legionnaire's heart.

The elite gladiators led by him were not only superior in mental strength. These were the ones who had the ability to support the blazing fighting spirit.

Crixus helped the gladiators fight fiercely and cut down the Roman soldiers one by one.

It was like an angry lion running in all directions and slashing people.

Even Crassus, who was far away, could clearly see Crixus' performance.

“The more I look at him, the more he looks like a waste. If he was born as a Roman, he would have been a really good soldier.”

Muttering to himself, he turned his head to Spartacus next to him.

"Can you really win?"

"I can win."

Spartacus stepped forward. There was no hesitation in his two strong eyes.

In fact, Crassus had no desire to permit this duel.

Anyway, it wasn't that long for Crixus to run rampant like that. As human beings, physical strength cannot be infinite, and it is difficult for one hand to handle both hands.

If he loses, there was a risk that a fight that could be easily ended will drag on for no reason. However, Marcus's persuasion swayed his heart.

Pushing Crassus' back was not a matter of military practicality, but a kind of desire for honor.

“Everyone in Rome already knows that Spartacus is a gladiator of the Crassus family.

"But what if he loses?"

"Didn't my father see Spartacus fight in Rome? He never loses. Of course, even if he loses, there are ways."

The last words were Marcus' bravado, but they were enough to reassure Crassus.

With the development of military strategies, the proportion of one-on-one duels in battles between countries has decreased, but there are no cases at all.

Marcellus, who was called the honorable title of the sword of Rome, was a representative example.

He won a short skirmish with Birdomarus, chieftain of Insubres of Gaul, and gained great honor.

This was a great temptation to Crassus, who was still conscious of Pompey.

To be compared with Pompey, who brilliantly put down Sertorius' rebellion, a certain amount of topicality is essential.

There are all countermeasures for losing, so there was nothing to be a problem. Crassus decided to trust his son once more.

"Okay. Go and slay the enemy and seize the glory. Then no one will call you a slave."

It means that if he wins the battle and gives glory to the family, he will be freed.

It was a condition that all slaves would turn their eyes on, but Spartacus didn't care.

Regardless of his status, his master was only Marcus. This was because he had already promised to live like that for the rest of his life.

He cut through the crowd and approached Crixus.

Even in the midst of the chaotic battle, Crixus, who noticed his friend's approach, smiled faintly.

As he decapitated a Roman soldier, the ground roared with a cry.

"Whoever takes my head will be the hero who ends this war!"

Temptation passed in the eyes of the Roman soldiers for a moment. Still, no one rushed in.

Even if it was an extremely small amount of time, the central army stopped the sword.

Squeezing through the momentary silence, a voice like thunder erupted from behind the Roman soldiers.

"Your opponent is me. Crixus."

Everyone's attention focused on them at once.

Crassus, commander-in-chief of the Roman army, gave permission, and Crixus, the commander of the rebels, accepted.

The central ranks, which were in the middle of the battle, met a temporary truce.

When the center stopped fighting, the other places naturally stopped wielding their weapons for a moment.

Crixus, who had time to look around, smiled bitterly.

No one complained, but the rebels were already at their limit.

The death squad, which was close to 30,000, had already died a third of the time since the battle began.

Rome, on the other hand, suffered little damage. It was an army so powerful that it was tongue-in-cheek.

Leaving his eyes on the corpses of his fallen comrades, Crixus aimed his sword at Spartacus.

It was time to put an end to the relationship and life that was long if it was long and short if it was short.

"Shall we make a decision?"

Spartacus did not draw his sword right away. Rather, he slowly shook his head and opened his mouth.

"Catch your breath first. I don't want to cut you tired."

Crixus's eyebrows twitched slightly, and soon a thin smile appeared on his lips.

Unlike Spartacus, who had never been involved in the battle, Crixus had always fought against the Romans.

If he had fought in this state, the decision might have been unexpectedly futile.

In fact, Marcus was aiming for this and sent Spartacus after the battle.

However, Spartacus even threw off the chain armor he was wearing, Lorica Hamata.

“Even if I take a little break, my stamina won’t fully recover.

Marcus, who was watching the situation from a distance, put his forehead on his hand and shook his head excitedly.

He made a win situation, but Spartacus wants to go the hard way.

Even so, he laughed at the thought that it was like him.

There would be no idiot in the world if he was defeated like that, but Spartacus was different.

When he wins that way, people go crazy for him.

It was not arrogance, but absolute confidence in one's abilities.

Feeling the unusual atmosphere, Crixus took a deep breath and recovered his physical strength.

"Something is different from when I saw him before. He's a friend I never get tired of."

"I'm sorry for you, but I have no intention of doing it moderately."

"Ha! Who do you say!"

A light smile passed across his face. The two of them pulled out their sword at the same time and took a stance.

The sunlight reflecting off Spartacus' sword drew a sparkling trail. At the same time, the two gladiators representing the era rushed into each other and completely released all their abilities.

- Chow Chow Chow!

'As expected, it's strong!'

As it had been felt in previous clashes, Crixus was stronger than anyone Spartacus had ever faced.

The flexibility and speed that Spartacus did not yet possess are alive in Crixus' sword.

Crixus' impression was not much different. The sword of Spartacus was full of destructive power that Crixus could not acquire even if he went through life.

- Chaeeng!

Intense metallic sounds bursted out one after another as if tearing the eardrum.

How many times had swords collided with each other?

A single blow would make the difference between life and death, but the two had nothing to hold back.

He just draws all the power he had to the bottom and used it.

- Caang!

The two swords collided in the air, pushing the bodies of both sides away.

Spartacus immediately moved and struck his sword again. A sense of danger lingered in the eyes of Crixus, who was not completely shocked.

However, he had the experience and ability to turn a crisis into an opportunity.

He moved his sword flexibly and let Spartacus' sword slip away. Crixus, who used the power of the collision to open the distance, stabbed the sword in reverse, burning his fighting spirit.

- Sheeing!

With great speed passed Spartacus's shoulder finely. His sword moved intricately.

It was not easy to predict the direction the sword would fly.

The basic skill obtained through blood-sharpening training was added to the sharpness cultivated through numerous real battles.

It was such a perfection that it was impossible to find gaps.

"Haap!"

Blood gushed from Spartacus' forearm along with the elation that burst out of Crixus' mouth.

It wasn't a good cut, but he felt a stinging pain.

'If there are no gaps, make them by force! No matter how fast and complex a sword is, I am stronger.'

Victory in sword fighting comes from confidence in oneself.

No matter how strong Crixus became, Spartacus also became stronger than before. There was no reason he couldn't beat an opponent once he had won again.

The sword of Spartacus, which had been confused for a moment, found its place.

The number of times their swords collided quickly exceeded the sum of hundreds.

"Is that really a human fight..."

The exclamation someone muttered was the feeling of everyone watching this sword fight. Everyone's hearts trembled with excitement as they watched the greatest showdown that would never happen again.

- Sheeing!

Crixus's sword narrowly grazed the side and cut through the air.

Spartacus' sword moved like a flash of light, emitting tremendous power.

Crixus, who judged that he would not be able to receive it, stepped back.

That was a bad judgment.

Spartacus' sword blade flashed dazzlingly as he rushed forward with the same momentum as he swung his sword.

Crixus, who judged that there was nowhere else to escape, gritted his teeth and forcibly rushed forward again.

Crossed swords on both sides.

The bright smile of his long-lost wife is engraved in Spartacus' eyes.

His body barely deflected the approaching sword and at the same time parried the blow with all his might.

-ah!

The touch of the hand felt so vivid that it hurt his heart.

Vivid blood sprayed from Crixus' chest.

Spartacus' face looked at those blurry eyes with a hint of sadness.

Crixus stuck his sword into the ground and forcibly supported his body as he tried to fall forward.

He let out a heavy breath in a voice that sounded somehow relieved.

"Twice losing against the same opponent... I thought it would be more embarrassing if I lost to you again..."

"Crixus..."

There was not much difference in skill between the two.

However, those who died and tried to leave a legacy, and those who survived and tried to live their lives to the end.

The difference between the two people's perspectives on the future made the difference between winning and losing.

- Dump.

In the end, Chrisus' body disintegrated. The sound of him falling was like a signal that announces the end of the rebellion.

"Lastly... I'll tell you one thing."

There was no fighting spirit or fear of death in Crixus' voice. It contained only the anxious feelings of a man who was his teacher, disciple, and close friend.

"Our road is over, but you are just beginning... you see? If you are alive... we will never die. In your heart... our will... "

"I know. I will use the rest of my days to make sure your lives... are never in vain. So rest assured."

"Haha... I trust you... I'll leave it to you..."

Crixus' voice faded. Lying on the ground and looking up at the sky, he said one last word.

"... I did everything I wanted to do... so it wasn't a bad life. Don't you think so too?"

His eyes closed with a satisfied smile that did not match the stubborn mouth.

The end of a man who extinguished the final flame of life was there.

A hero who had lived a life of fierce struggle send the wind of freedom across the blue sky.

Spartacus, seeing off his friend with a single tear, stood up and raised his sword.

"Spartacus, the gladiator of the House of Crassus, has slashed the enemy!"

"Whoaaaaaa!"

Echoing cheers roared through Spartacus' heart.

The birth of a great hero.

A heartwarming smile appeared on Marcus' lips as he watched them from a distance.