The Mad Tycoon of Rome
Glaber, who led 3,000 recruits, not regular legionnaires, was not good at improvising.
He set up a plan to block the road to Mount Vesuvius and drive in and annihilate the slave army step by step.
It was not a bad decision, faithful to the standard.
However, Glover, who showed off his victory, ignored the rear.
Crixus made a rope out of wild vines and led it down the cliff and into the rear of the Romans.
The Roman army, which judged that the enemy would only be in the front, was completely caught off guard.
They were so relieved that they didn't even post a proper sentry in the rear.
In return, the Roman army was exposed to the surprise of the slave army without any preparation.
Crixus and his companions ruthlessly ravaged the Roman army like wolves over a flock.
“Let's kill all the Romans!”
“What! Didn't they say that the enemy was in front? It's different from what I heard!”
The Roman army, which was attacked unexpectedly at night, collapsed without even being able to swing their swords properly.
More than a hundred surprise troops each cut down two or three, and in an instant, the blood of close to three hundred Roman soldiers was splattered on the floor.
“Don't panic! Line up! The enemy is only slaves and bandits! Form as you've been trained!”
The cries of the centurion who tried to command somehow were mere screams as no one heard them.
Crixus, who broke through the enemy lines with tremendous speed, cut only those who seemed to be commanders first.
When the blood of his enemies gushed over his head in the vanguard, the gladiators running behind him attacked the demoralized Roman soldier and created a mountain of corpses.
“I'm not just a slave!!”
A feeling of fear spread among the undisciplined soldiers.
In particular, Crixus, who single-handedly slaughtered dozens of soldiers, looked almost like a demon to the Roman soldiers.
Even in the middle of the night, the vivid red color stands out because of how much blood was covered.
The Legion's morale had already been savagely broken.
There was no way that the resistance of the soldiers recalling the defeat would have any strength.
The soldiers who came out of the barracks belatedly ran away without even thinking about forming ranks.
Their morale was so low that they threw away even the standard, the heart of the Legion.
Glover, distraught, sent the order to retreat only after the number of dead was close to 1,000.
“Hu.., retreat! All troops retreat!”
However, they were ambushed from behind and the front was a rugged mountain road, so even retreating was not easy.
The gladiators also did not look at the fleeing Roman soldiers.
In particular, Crixus, the commander-in-chief, stepped forward and swung his sword more tenaciously than anyone else.
A soldier threw down his weapon and surrendered, but Crixus snorted and blew the soldier's throat.
He shouted in a voice that flashed with murderous intent and hatred.
“There is no need for surrender! Kill, kill, kill! Let's fill this mountain with the blood of the Romans!”
The response, covered with madness, came like a wave.
The Roman soldiers realized only then.
They were not fighting to win the war.
Gladiators fight to kill every single Roman soldier.
The sound of cut flesh and broken bones echoed across the mountain.
The blood that moistened the ground continued to increase, eventually forming a large puddle.
The reason there were those who barely escaped with their lives was because the Roman army outnumbered the slave army.
The bloody slaughter, not the battle, continued until the two-legged Romans were out of sight.
Having won a great victory, Crixus ordered his men to gather all the goods left behind by the Romans.
“We've been running out of weapons, armor, and food, but this battle will give us a breather.”
Ashre, a fellow gladiator who escaped together from Capua, came up to him and said to him with a smile.
“Since you destroyed the Romans very well, Oinomaus-sama will finally be able to sleep comfortably.”
I hope so.”
Oenomaus, who played a leading role in escaping the slaves with Crixus, was killed by an arrow while fleeing to Vesuvius.
The shooter of the arrow was cut by Crixus himself, but he did not think he had taken proper revenge.
Even after killing a thousand Roman soldiers, he was still not completely satisfied.
Ashre shook his head and bit his lip as if he couldn't bear it.
“If Spartacus-sama was with you…”
“Never bring up that guy's name!”
Crixus resolutely cut off Ashre's words.
He warned again in a stern tone.
“He's gone to Rome and lives his own life.
The traitor has nothing to do with us, so don't ever mention his name!”
“Remember! Spartacus is not a Capuan gladiator.
Unless he escapes from Rome and joins us, he is only a traitor before then.
Tell the rest of your comrades once more.
Whoever misses the traitor is our division.
I will consider him a spy for the enemy who is trying to do something wrong.”
“Sorry, I was short on my thoughts.”
Ashre meekly bowed his head and apologized.
If he thinks about it, Crixus was right a hundred times.
No matter how much Spartacus was the spiritual leader of the gladiators in the past, he was now nothing more than a traitor who sold himself for gold.
It angered him that he still believed that Spartacus was on the same side as him at heart.
He immediately went to tell the others the words of Crixus.
Crixus, who was left alone, smiled as if he was lying about his anger a moment ago.
Sitting on a moderately flat rock, he looked up at the moon in the sky.
“In Rome, where you are, the moon must be shining brightly.”
Crixus gulped down the diluted wine he found in Glaber's luggage.
After a fierce battle, the feeling of the cool wine running down your throat was indescribably refreshing.
“You'll probably get angry when we meet.
Why didn't I wait? I couldn't help it.
I can't be like you.
So I want you to live your life there.
Yes, you're better than that moon.
Let the sun shine even brighter.”
Spartacus believed in the future and made the choice, but Crixus was different.
He chose now over an uncertain future.
He didn't have fanciful thoughts that he can destroy Rome.
No matter how good they were, they will lose.
This was an unavoidable fate.
But losing didn't matter.
Crixus was just trying to prove it by killing at least one more Roman.
The fact that they were not trash could be trampled on mercilessly.
And the fact that they too have teeth to bite them.
He couldn't wish for anything more if he could burn this life to give Rome even the slightest warning.
“But it shouldn't be a nuisance to you by doing that.”
The reason why Spartacus was declared a traitor to his subordinates was because he decided that it was good for Spartacus to completely sever the relationship.
'Even if the paths diverged, it would be enough as long as we moved toward the direction we believe in.'
Crixus shook his head excitedly, laughing at himself talking to himself differently than usual.
“It's strangely sentimental even though I haven't gotten drunk.
Maybe it's because I won with the knowledge I learned from you.”
Crixus knew himself well.
He has talent as a fighter, but his ability as a commander was lacking.
So he constantly reviewed and contemplated what he had learned from Spartacus.
If he were in this position, what kind of tactics would he have used?
What methods did he use to counter the enemy?
If he hadn't done this, he wouldn't have thought of going down the cliff by weaving vines.
The two close friends who were always by his side were no longer by his side, but the things he received from them remained.
Crixus vowed not to stop until the day his breath ran out.
Even though he knew he wouldn't be able to reach the moon, he stretched out his hand toward the moon floating in the sky and made a fist.
His hand was filled with a firm determination that he would not regret it no matter what the outcome might be.
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