The rebel forces, who had suffered a crushing defeat, barely survived with less than a third of their original numbers, thanks to Crixus's leadership. Despite their survival, over 50,000 casualties occurred in a single battle.
"I guess we should be grateful to have survived at least this much..."
Crixus's voice was filled with disappointment.
The subordinates who had eagerly anticipated the battle were left speechless. Most of those who had been confident of victory were no longer present.
Crixus refrained from blaming them. They had paid with their lives, accepting their own responsibilities.
"Now it's impossible to fight them within Roman territory."
"..."
"Sorry."
"It's all our fault..."
The rebel commanders felt as if they were trapped in a nightmare.
Despite their overwhelming numerical advantage and higher morale, their center was quickly breached, their army was divided, and their left flank suffered near-total losses.
They could only flee while watching their besieged comrades scream and die.
It wasn't just the monstrous cavalry that overwhelmed them; even their infantry's basic combat capabilities were vastly inferior.
They realized this was the true form of the Roman army: perfectly balanced orderliness, combining fierce aggressiveness and brutality. Well-trained armies maximize their explosive power by integrating these opposing elements.
"The reputation of the Roman army was not unfounded. They just didn't put their full strength into fighting us when we first clashed..."
"Foolishly blinded by victory..."
Some commanders bit their lips and shed tears of regret for their choices and apologies for their fallen comrades.
Although nearly 40,000 soldiers remained, they were rendered ineffective.
With news of the defeat spreading, the daily influx of slaves stopped abruptly. Additionally, the southern villages, which had been forcibly subdued, began to revolt one after another.
Fortunately, there weren't many deserters, but Crixus knew it was only a matter of time. If they stayed put, they would self-destruct before having a chance to fight a final battle.
"Commander...what should we do?"
"As planned. Let's cross over to Sicily."
"Yes, sir. Understood!"
Crixus's unwavering hope was enough to revive a faint glimmer of hope in the eyes of the commanders.
Ashrega quickly unfolded the map and traced a line with his finger.
"Pirates we contacted beforehand are preparing their ships. If we take the shortest route, we can cross over without delay."
Although the reduced number of soldiers meant fewer ships were needed, it was a small consolation.
With the increased speed of movement, it was possible to reach the coast faster than the Roman army.
If they could acquire the ships successfully, reviving their forces in Sicily would not be just a dream.
In this situation, time was crucial. Once a decision was made, immediate action was required.
Crixus was the first to stand up and exit the tent.
The commanders quickly grabbed their weapons and followed.
However, one concern troubled him: Spartacus, whom he had seen recently.
Crixus believed that Spartacus was the reason their troop deployment had been exposed to the enemy. Most of the enemy's knowledge came from Spartacus, leaving Crixus feeling helpless.
Just as Crixus knew Spartacus well, Spartacus must have been aware of Crixus's plans. There was a possibility that even their plan to escape to Sicily had already been discovered.
This was a serious issue.
"But just because there is suspicion, we can't completely abandon the escape plan," he thought, his face reflecting the heavy burden of anguish as he gathered the remaining troops to head towards the coast.
※※※※
Crixus's concern was justified.
Crassus, having learned from Spartacus about Crixus's expected escape route, acted quickly. As soon as the rotation was over, he dispatched a commander to intercept them.
The only way for the rebels to cross over to Sicily was with the help of pirates.
Under Crassus's orders, Centurion Lucius contacted the pirates.
Finding the pirates who had previously made contact with the rebels proved difficult, but they were willing to talk once offered money.
Lucius gathered the captains who had promised ships to the rebels and got straight to the point.
"Summon the rebels to the designated location, but do not lend them any ships."
"Are you telling us to break the contract?"
"Yes, the rebels are enemies of Rome. Helping them means becoming enemies of Rome yourself."
"Hah! How has Rome, a feared bunch, stopped us from piracy until now? If we can't operate here, we'll just move to Greece. We hear there are good pickings there too."
The pirates laughed and outright rejected Lucius's proposal. Unlike bandits, pirates of this era were not particularly afraid of Rome.
Unlike the large warships known as "Nae-hae" in the Mediterranean, Rome had not managed to eradicate Mediterranean piracy.
Even nobles traveling to Greece had to pay ransom to pirates.
While Rome could become a nuisance if it actively pursued them, pirates generally operated within limits to avoid serious trouble. They always sought greater gains while maintaining minimal safety for themselves.
Lucius and Crassus knew that mere threats would not be enough to convince the pirates. To lure them, a combination of both threats and incentives was necessary.
With a smile, Lucius placed the contract on the makeshift table.
"The reward promised by the rebels will now be provided by Rome. Let's make a deal."
"Huh, huh huh."
"You'll pay us?"
The pirates' reaction shifted dramatically. Some captains openly displayed their displeasure. As the atmosphere grew tense, a bearded, fierce-looking pirate slammed his fist on the table.
"Are you telling us to break the agreement we made with the rebels?"
"That's right."
"Ha! That's a funny thing to say."
The one-eyed pirate, known for his cunning among the pirates, typically influenced the decisions of other captains.
Lucius maintained his composure and turned his gaze to him.
Negotiating is easier when you know your opponent's position.
"Why do you find that funny?"
"Even as pirates, we adhere to our own rules. Without rules, running an organization is impossible."
"So?"
"We expect to be paid and keep our promises. That's the minimum trust we maintain."
"1.5 times the amount."
The room fell silent, as if shocked. When an impulsive captain tried to speak, the one-eyed pirate raised his voice.
"Do you think everything can be bought with money just because we are pirates? You are trying to deceive us..."
"Double the amount. If this doesn't work, we will withdraw."
It was a substantial offer to gain trust that had not previously existed. The pirates' eyes were fixed on the glittering silver coins. The one-eyed pirate stood up and cleared his throat.
"Well, it's true that we have our principles. But there are always exceptions, and if rumors of this spread, it could damage our reputation."
The one-eyed pirate reached a conclusion.
"So, we will consider your request unfulfilled."
Contrary to his words, he grabbed the contract Lucius had placed on the table and put it in his pocket.
Lucius chuckled, understanding the significance of this action.
He had permission from Crassus to spend up to three times the amount, but he used only double to close the deal.
After successfully completing his mission, Lucius stood up with a faint smile.
"Even though you are pirates, your commitment to honoring the original contract, even when offered extra money, is admirable. It's a pity, but I must leave now."
"Hmm, we won't see you off. Rome and we have never met before, nor have we made any backdoor deals."
The pirates smirked and stood up.
The negotiation ended without any further breakdown. They had never truly met before.
With this development, the rebels lost their last escape route.
※※※※
Crassus was confident he could completely crush the rebel army if the pirates' offer succeeded.
However, the pirates, citing bad weather, led the rebel army to a location where the Roman army had set up camp, rather than the coast Crassus had designated.
Fearing exposure of his plans, Crassus felt a significant sense of unease.
To ensure safety, he sent 5,000 elite troops ahead and followed with the main force at a considerable distance.
Ultimately, this decision proved crucial for his survival.
The elite troops fell into a trap set by the Roman army and suffered near-total losses.
Crassus immediately redirected his troops towards Brundisium in the east, rather than Regium, which would have allowed them to cross to Sicily.
Crassus pursued the rebel army relentlessly.
"Now the rebels are like rats in a trap! Let's make them pay for everything they've done!"
"Waaaaah!"
With the victory of the rotation, the morale of the Roman army soared, fully restoring their former glory.
The numerical advantage that the rebel army once held had long since been overturned.
Although the Roman army now numbered over 50,000, the rebel combatants had dwindled to barely 30,000.
Repeated defeats and frustrations led to increased desertions, and even those who wished to leave officially voiced their intentions.
Crassus sent them all away.
Logically, there was nowhere for them to run, but few can endure the constant fear of impending death.
Those who had lost the will to fight had already left. This meant that the remaining thirty thousand were resolute and willing to fight to the death, no matter the outcome.
Crixus took pride in this.
"Thank you. You've followed this flawed leader all the way to this point."
When Taranto fell to the Roman army in Metapontum to the west, Crixus sensed that this would be their final stand.
He calmly explained the dire situation to his subordinates.
"Everyone can guess what's coming, but it's now impossible to keep running. The plain area leading to Burgundian is too exposed to enemy attacks. So we have two choices: either continue moving east, hoping for a miracle and risk being crushed by Roman cavalry, or take a stand in a more defensible position and fight to the end."
"I will follow the commander's will."
"Please do so. I will follow you with my life."
None of the soldiers suggested retreating.
There was no one left among them who wished to live a life of despair. They were not afraid of battle.
Their resolve was different from the arrogant bravado they had shown earlier on the plains. It was a clear, determined will.
Acknowledging their resolve, Crixus led the troops to camp on a rough hill.
Once they ascended, there would be no turning back.
The Roman army only needed to surround the hill and wait for the rebels to exhaust themselves.
Crixus knew this but still chose to climb.
He was not foolishly drawn to high places. The only way to counter the monstrous Roman cavalry was to fight in a forested area.
The entrance to the hill was surrounded by trees, which would hinder cavalry movements.
He was determined to fight valiantly and die honorably.
This was Crixus's final stand and last bit of pride.
As soon as the Roman army confirmed the rebels had taken the hill, they promptly surrounded it and set up camp.
Engineers used soil and wood from the forest to quickly construct a formidable fort.
They did not underestimate the rebels and built the fort according to strict regulations.
To avoid ambushes, they maintained a safe distance from the forest and ensured proper defensive measures.
Crixus looked down at the Roman camp from his elevated position and was genuinely impressed. He realized that the basic capabilities of the Roman military were on a different level.
Seeing the Roman flag fluttering below, he felt a deep sense of relief, knowing that those mighty rulers of the land would never be overthrown.
Even if he did not personally topple that flag, someone else might, and that would fulfill his desire for freedom, leaving a mark in history.
If he could achieve that, his life would have been worth living.
So, he resolved to stand firm and follow the path he believed in, embodying the symbol of defiance against Rome and returning to his humanity.
Crixus began to move, approaching the Roman guards stationed at a distance as he descended from the forest.
With each step, Crixus's heart remained calm, despite the thousands of soldiers arrayed before him.
The murmurs from the Roman camp, where they had spotted him, soon reached his ears.
"Stop!"
"Who are you?"
The soldiers pointed their spears and drew their bows.
Crixus remained still and spoke calmly.
"I am Crixus, the commander-in-chief of the liberation army. Before the battle, I want to meet the Roman commander. I won't move from this spot, so feel free to bring as many guards as you like."
This unusual request quickly caught Crassus's attention.
Although Crixus could easily be killed by the soldiers, Crassus chose not to order their attack. Killing an enemy who requested a face-to-face meeting at the risk of his own life would dishonor Rome.
Crassus gathered his most trusted soldiers and decided to go himself.
"I will go with Spartacus."
Marcus, who had heard the news late and rushed over, pleaded, out of breath. Spartacus also bowed his head, requesting to accompany Crassus.
Recognizing Spartacus's contributions, Crassus permitted both to join him.
Crassus walked confidently, flanked by heavily armed soldiers.
Crixus stood alone, eyes closed, waiting at the designated spot.
"Are you the mastermind of the rebellion, Crassus?"
Crassus did not acknowledge the term "liberation army." To Rome, they were simply rebels causing a disturbance.
"Yes, I am Crassus."
Crixus boldly stated his name before the Roman commander-in-chief.
He glanced at Spartacus, who stood beside Marcus, then turned back to Crassus. Crassus asked, "Why did you call for me? Let me make it clear: there is no room for negotiation."
"I have no intention of living a humbled life. We will resist bravely until the end. Don't think it will be easy to defeat us."
"Whether it's easy or hard, we'll find out when the time comes. But if you're not here to negotiate, why did you come all this way to call me?"
"I just wanted to understand. The thoughts and voices of Rome's soldiers who will end our lives, and those who command them."
Crixus looked around and smiled. "Besides, you'll remember the name Crixus, who stood bravely until the end, unafraid of death."
Even in such a desperate situation, he maintained a smile.
Marcus felt a deep sense of disappointment.
If he could have brought Crixus down with Spartacus, how much stronger would they have been?
He quickly shook off the rising regret.
Crassus also noticed Crixus's momentary hesitation and briefly felt a pang of disappointment. He remarked, "He was a man too valuable to kill. Had he been Roman, he would have made an excellent soldier."
"I will never be as good as a Roman, even if I am reborn."
"I see. Then die with your bravery intact. I will remember your heroic end."
Crassus turned away, as if he had nothing more to say.
But as he was about to leave, Spartacus's desperate voice reached his ears.
"Commander, please give me one last chance to speak with you."
"Well... why not? You can share whatever you wish. It doesn't matter to me to show mercy to a dying man."
Crassus entered the tent with only Marcus and Spartacus remaining outside. The soldiers aiming their bows from a distance stayed alert for any unexpected developments.
Marcus stepped back to give Spartacus space to speak with Crixus.
The two men stared at each other in silence for a moment.
Finally, Spartacus broke the silence. "The atmosphere has changed a lot since the old days."
"Yes, we've been through some tough times."
"Do you blame me?"
"You did your best in your position. I don't blame you or hold any grudges against your shortcomings."
Crixus's words seemed sincere, and he even smiled warmly and patted his old friend's shoulder.
"I came here because I thought I might have one last chance to talk to you. Showing my friendship now might cause problems later, but..."
"I've already made a name for myself in this war, so there's no need to worry about that."
"Is that so? I'm glad to hear it. Then there is only one thing left to do."
Crixus's tone shifted suddenly.
Spartacus sensed the change in atmosphere, his face tensing, and even Marcus, who was standing behind them, froze.
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