Participation

The winter has passed, and the morning has finally dawned.

In Rome, it is not uncommon for the head of the family and the eldest son to go to war at once.

But if the eldest son is a child who is not even an adult yet, the story is different.

Marcus' mother, Tertulla, could not dispel her worries until the moment he was dispatched.

"Are you sure you want to go? It's okay if you say you'll stay home now. Why on earth would you follow such a place?"

"Don't worry, mother. I'm turning 14 this year. I'll be old enough to officially join the army in three years. Think of this opportunity as an opportunity to gain experience."

"So you're saying there's no reason to get that experience three years earlier. Sigh... How did you become such a stubborn person?"

Tertulla quietly blamed Crassus, who was checking his mount quietly.

"If my son tried to do something unreasonable, you should have stopped him. If this goes wrong, how are you going to take responsibility for it?"

"He will always be with me, so there will be nothing wrong. I promise."

"If Marcus goes wrong, don't think about seeing my face again."

"Oh, that's not going to happen...…."

Crassus, who would normally have been strong, had no choice but to bow to his wife in this case.

When he first brought this up, she even talked about divorce.

In the end, Marcus got close to Tertulla for a few days and persuaded her to get conditional permission.

If this war is over, he will go to war again when he becomes an adult.

If anything goes wrong, Crassus will take responsibility for all this.

Even after agreeing to all these matters, Tertulla tried to change Marcus' mind whenever she had time.

That's how a mother feels about her children.

Marcus also tried to soothe her anxiety as much as possible.

But when you have to leave, you have to leave.

Marcus stepped on the stirrup and mounted the horse.

"Excuse me, young master...…."

Danae, who ran quickly, hesitated and couldn't speak. Marcus looked down at her.

"What's wrong?"

"Hey, young master, there's...… Could you take me with you?"

"What? You?"

"Yes."

A desperate light flashed in Danae's eyes.

Because she doesn't like to be left alone. To be exact, it wasn't that she hated it, but she

She is Marcus' personal slave. She had the perception that where Marcus was, she was where she would be. She was scared.

She didn't even know how to spend her time in Crassus' mansion without Marcus.

"The old master also takes a slave to serve. The young master also…."

"No. First of all you are too young. Besides, unlike my father, I am forced to join in the army. However, if I carry a slave to serve me, of course you will look bad around you."

"But I don't know what to do without the young master."

"I have already told Septimus in case it is. I'll assign you a tutor, so while I'm gone, you should do your best in your studies. In particular, geometry will require a lot of attention from now on."

Danae nodded with a melancholy expression.

If you don't understand, even though you've been considerate of the afterlife to this extent, that's just someone who doesn't know grace. In her wit, she was quite aware of her own stance.

"I will do as you wish. So please don't get hurt and come back."

She lowered her head toward Spartacus, who stood firmly next to Marcus.

"Please take good care of the young master."

"Don't worry. I will risk my life to protect him so that not a single hair is damaged."

"I'll trust you, Spartacus."

While Danae and Spartacus were talking, Septimus sneaked up on Marcus.

"Did you tell Spartacus the report I posted last time, young master?"

"No, not yet."

"Why? Should I tell him?"

Marcus shook his head slightly enough not to be noticed. And he whispered in a voice so low that Spartacus next to him couldn't hear him.

"I'll take a chance and tell you when the time is right, so you don't have to mind. Good job investigating."

"Yes, then I'll find out a little more clearly. Please take care of yourself."

Septimus quietly stepped back without adding any words.

Marcus, who said goodbye, drove his horse alongside Crassus out of the mansion.

It's not a farewell he'll never see again, so there's no reason to say lame things.

The path down Palatine Hill, where the mansion is located, was the same as usual.

Crassus, who stopped talking for a moment, looked back at Marcus with a serious face.

"When we join the army, I am the commander-in-chief who leads the legions before I am your father. So let's just say one last thing."

"Yes. Please speak."

"I have lived only for wealth accumulation and political success so far. Maybe that's why I was born, but that hasn't changed yet. But lately, I've been getting greedy for one more thing. It's the greed to watch you grow up and go up beyond my reach."

Crassus continued with a soft smile that he had never made before.

"So stick with me no matter what. Gain experience safely and become the kind of person that I and Pompeius cannot overcome in the future."

As if he was embarrassed even after he said it, Crassus drove his horse forward again without hearing an answer.

Following the back of it, Marcus's chest, which drove the horse, became emotional.

For two years, calling him father and living together, there was no choice but to build up affection in any form.

In the first place, there is no way you would hate someone who shows such deep fatherhood to you.

Marcus was determined to grant Crassus' second wish.

It will at least make no end as disastrous as it was in its original history.

He could guarantee him this one thing.

* * *

The sight of more than 50,000 Roman troops lined up was truly magnificent.

If it were a large army of 8 legions, even if only the centurion were gathered, it would reach 500 people.

The legionaries who looked around their armies were naturally convinced.

There was no way that they would defeat such an overwhelming force.

People are bound to gain confidence when they form a group.

Those who suffered a defeat which was to the consul's legions, also regained vitality.

Crassus stood proudly in the scarlet cloak that was only allowed for the commander-in-chief. "All troops, listen! We are here to quell that heinous band of rebellion. The insurgents who are now running wild in the south harm the Roman citizens, rob them, and violate all the order we have built. I swear by the name of the god Jupiter I will never forgive the conduct of these weights! But why were they able to run so wild? The reason is that our compatriots who fought before were defeated. Because we're weaker than them? That's not true! Pyrrhus of Epirus, Hannibal of Carthage, and the mighty dynasties of the East all lost to Rome. The reason we were defeated by those rebels was because we didn't recognize them as the enemy. He self-destructed himself by the poison of carelessness in his heart!"

Shame on the soldiers' faces. In particular, soldiers who gladiators had defeated could not stare at the front with their heads down.

"The current situation is not light at all. The enemy's numbers are much higher than ours, and the experience of successive victories is full of confidence. They are not afraid of us. So I decided to take an extreme measure to make you aware of the seriousness of the situation. It is to sentence a Decimation to the previously defeated legions."

The soldiers who belonged to the consul's legions turned pale.

Decimation was the harshest punishment in the Roman army.

All the ten men will draw one person out of every ten, and nine others will beat their colleagues to death.

It was such a cruel punishment that even when it was sentenced, it was rarely actually executed.

The fact that this is carried out on a military basis also proves that the situation is serious.

At this time, the staff came forward. In the past, they defeated them because their former commanders coveted the military merits, so they begged for one more chance before holding them accountable.

In fact, this was a premeditated situation.

Crassus actually intended to execute a Decimation, but Marcus opposed it.

He judged that it was more efficient to pretend to say something like Caesar, who he read in the Commentarii de Bello Gallico.

Crassus eventually gave up his opinion as he was reluctant to show too much cruelty in front of his son.

However, the faces of the soldiers who did not know that all of this was produced were serious.

Crassus finally opened his tightly shut lips when his aides and military commanders asked for forgiveness.

"Since everyone is unanimously pleading for one chance, I will postpone the execution. But this has never been canceled. If you look down on the enemy and show poor fighting, I will execute the sentence again."

The staff gathered their mouths and shouted thank you.

Subsequently, all legionnaires, who were to be sentenced, shouted at their throats that they would fight for all their lives.

There was also a determined light in the eyes of other legionaries watching them.

Crassus, who looked around at the legionnaires who were fully disciplined, nodded his head in satisfaction.

"Don't ever forget the desperation and determination of now. Don't be afraid of your enemies, don't be overconfident of yourself. Just trust your trained self and follow the orders of the officers who command you. I swear before the name of Mars, the god of war, that as long as you walk with me, there will be no defeat before us!"

When Crassus raised the weapon in his hand, a fierce fighting spirit erupted from the soldiers' hearts.

"Wowaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

The moral of the soldiers went up without knowing the end.

Marcus's whole body was thrilled by the magnificent cry.

The turbulent echoes of the soldiers' hearts finally mark the beginning of a real war.

The memory of defeat no longer existed in the minds of the Roman soldiers advancing in formation.

Soldiers with blazing flames in their eyes kicked the ground vigorously for the promised victory and revenge.

* * *

The advance of the Roman army came straight into Crixus's ear.

The enormous number of the eight legions weighed heavily on his shoulders.

On the contrary, his subordinates did not feel serious at all.

"The Romans are coming."

"Shouldn't we prepare for the battle?"

"If we win again, the Romans are over. I will definitely step on it."

Everyone shares this kind of talk.

Crixus seemed to be the only one burning with anxiety.

They weren't like this at first, either. Last year, when the consul led the army in, many people were calling for escape.

However, they achieved a miraculous victory due to some luck and the enemy's carelessness.

And tens of thousands of rebels shared an idea.

'It's better than I thought.'

'I made a fuss about Roma, Roma, but nothing happened, right?'

The rebels, who had never lost and continued to win, became increasingly unable to make rational judgments.

Unlike original history, the reason was that there was no Spartacus to control it whenever it was decisive.

Soon they laughed even though they heard that eight Roman legions were coming.

The sense of crisis has been paralyzed.

Ashre, acting as Crixus' right-hand man, pointed his finger at the crude map.

"I think the Roman army is probably coming through this route. He is traversing a large area of plains even if he comes back a bit to avoid being ambushed by us."

A ray of temptation rose in the hearts of rebel commanders who heard the explanation. A former shepherd slave who is commander in charge of the assault team opened his mouth suddenly.

"The number of Roman troops is about 50,000. We're twice as many as they are. Why don't we bet on the winner here?"

Rebel commanders were not just thinking about things. They had their own grounds.

The easiest indicator is the number you can see with your eyes.

The insurgent group grew endlessly, reaching nearly 100,000. This was twice as many as the Roman army. Including the number of non-combatants, it is easily exceeded 120,000.

This was a much larger scale than the Spartacus revolt recorded in history.

Instead of fleeing to the north, he thoroughly looted the southern cities and attracted slaves and lower-class people.

This overwhelming number is violence in itself. They can't help but feel confident.

The second is the fact that they won against the Roman army even when the numbers were smaller.

The combination of these two factors left the commanders in a state of overconfidence.

There was a buzzing noise all over the place. It was a hopeful observation that most of them might be worth doing.

The commanding officer, who was in charge of the supply of troops, cautiously opened his mouth.

"For now, it is impossible to hold out recklessly. As the number has increased, food consumption is too fast."

"So if we kill all those Roman soldiers, we can easily solve the military problem. Can't we just take all the supplies from the Romans?"

"Right, and if we win this time again, the big cities in the south will no longer be able to withstand it. The road to real victory opens up."

"Please make a decision!"

It focused the commanders' attention on Crixus all at once.

Crixus looked around at the faces of the commanders once in a while. Everyone was full of enthusiasm for battle.

He was also confident with a series of wins, but there was still a little anxiety remained.

"The Romans would have grinded their teeth after being defeated by us. The 50,000 troops that have just been dispatched are a tremendous elite."

"Of course, we don't want to let our guard down. But it's also true that you can't just keep running away. We've already grown too big. It's impossible to just make a surprise attack."

What a well-built middle-aged man said was true.

It was practically impossible to keep running away with nearly 100,000 troops.

It was necessary to fight somewhere at least once.

Still, Crixus couldn't make a hasty decision.

That's why he was curious if it was really okay to turn around with the Romans.

It might have been similar to the consul's army that fought last time.

The quality of armament could be better, but the rebels have an advantage in numbers.

The training status of each individual would be good for the Roman army, but the rebels have a fighting spirit that spares no life and anger toward Rome.

'Could I win? But losing here could really be the end of everything...….'

Unlike Rome, which can continue to replenish its corps, rebels can lose everything in one defeat.

He must make decisions carefully.

However, he could not ignore the voices of his subordinates until the end.

None of his subordinates opposed the showdown now, as if they were divided. If he takes such a unified voice and presses it arbitrarily, he doesn't know what kind of behind-the-scenes words will come out.

He hesitated for a long time and finally nodded.

"All right, let's have a showdown on the plain."

"Waaaaa!"

"Let's take a cool bath with the blood of the Romans again!"

As soon as Crixus finished speaking, shouts and applause erupted from all sides.

Crixus decided to have minimum insurance despite such an exciting atmosphere.

He pointed to a place on the map and added a word in a discreet voice.

"However, the decisive battle will be held here. If it goes wrong, you can run away to the forest in the rear, so even in the worst case, you won't be wiped out."

"Haha, that won't happen."

"Didn't you overcome a much worse situation than this? You'll be able to win enough."

Unlike commanders who were optimistic about a hopeful future, Crixus's heart did not leave a ray of anxiety.

'In addition to preparing for the turn, we need to prepare for the defeat.'

Even if he has achieved his goal, he has yet to end it here.

His sunken gaze did not know how to leave the sloppy and crude map.