Battle!

The dawn broke over the narrow valley, casting a pale light on the battlefield.

The chill of the morning air clung to the ground, though it could not suppress the tension in the Roman camp.

Marcus stood on a small rise, overlooking his troops. His armor glittering faintly in the dim light. Behind him, the Danube shimmered, a silent witness to the storm about to break.

Marcus' officers awaited the final orders, their faces a mix of resolve and apprehension. In the horizon below them, the Barbarian horde moved like a living beast. 25.000 strong, their war cries echoing through the valley as they prepared to unleash chaos upon the Roman lines.

Marcus raised his voice, his tone sharp and commanding:

"Soldiers of Rome! The enemy thinks us weak. They think their numbers will overwhelm us. Let them believe it, for their arrogance will be their end! Today, we remind them what it means to face the might of disciplined men, the sons of Mars! THE SONS OF ROME!!!"

A cheers erupted from the ranks, though it was tempered by the task ahead. Marcus turned to his officers. His voice lower but no less firm.

"You all know your roles. The bait will hold until the time is right. The ambush will strike with precision. And the hammer," he gestured to the cavalry behind the ridges, "will crush them when they are most vulnerable.

Follow the signals, and the day is ours."

Cassian, standing nearby, scowled but said nothing. The other officers saluted and dispersed to their units, leaving Marcus to gaze one last time at the map of the valley before rolling it up.

The engineers had worked very hard all night long, filling the valley's floor with ditches and stakes, slowing the horde's advance and leading them into narrow chokepoints. They also placed the ballistae and scorpions on the ridges on both sides, choosing strategic locations they could easily shoot everyone from.

Finally, the barbarian horde was visible in the horizon.

Everyone started praying to the Gods.

"Men! Just follow the battleplan our General made for us!" Shouted a Centurion.

The Barbarians finally spotted the 1500 Roman infantry in the centre valley and roared in anticipation. To them, this was the entirety of Marcus' offering. Nothing but a small feast for them.

Little did they know...

The Roman soldiers gripped their swords and shields hard, clashing their swords to their shields, shouting:

"AU! AU! AU! AU!"

The Roman shouts even deafened the crazy Barbarian horde's shouts.

Finally, the forces came to a clash.

There were so many of them. Luckily, the valley was narrow, so they couldn't fully use their numbers to their advantage.

But even so, the Roman soldiers didn't have enough stamina to kill them all. Some even dramatically fell to their strikes.

For every Roman soldier who died, the pressure on the minds of the rest of the frontal force would rise.

But they still held their line. Their discipline and perservance triumphing over the endless assaults of the Barbarians.

They fell back in a strategic and orderly manner, making the enemy think they were gaining land. The Barbarians were slowed by the trenches but they still frantically chased them.

It was brutal.

The Barbarians were lead into a deadly choke point where the terrain was heavily constricted.

Then, 4000 Roman soldiers appeared out of nowhere.

Limited by the narrow space, the Barbarians couldn't push a centimeter further and their strikes wouldn't leave a dent on the Roman robust shields.

The Barbarians at the front were starting to get frustruated.

"Nice tactic. They managed to lure us into a narrow space to battle us head on. But just 4000 more troops won't change anything" said one of the Barbarian commanders confidently.

Hidden in the ridges above, Marcus watched as the Barbarian vanguard surged into the bottleneck, their formation compressed by the narrow terrain. He gave the first signal.

Trumpets blared from the ridges and the hidden ambush forces, 1500 troops on each side, sprang into action, emerging from the heavy woods from both sides of the ridges, attacking the flanks of the Barbarian force.

This two-pronged assault caught the enemy in a vice, breaking their formation.

The initial volley was devastating. Leaders fell, the Barbarians faltered as confusion rippled through their ranks.

"Loose the Ballistae!" Marcus commanded.

From concealed positions the Ballistae and the Scorpions began to unleash their fury, targeting the commanders and the flag bearers of the Barbarians. Massive bolts and flaming projectiles tore through the Barbarian ranks, striking key clasters and igniting panic.

The horde hesitated, unsure whether to press forward or retreat.

Each time a flag fell or faltered, the Roman Legionnaires would shout:

"The Barbarian Commander has fallen! The Barbarian Commander has fallen!" In the Barbarian's own languages, which they had learned to recite right before the battle.

This move would further plunge the barbarians into chaos.

Cassian, watching from a distance, muttered under his breath.

"Too soon... This will fail." though his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt.

The barbarians, now forced into three distinct groups by the forces of the ambush, attempted to reorganize.

Their cavalry moved toward the ridges, hoping to neutralize the ambush forces. But the Romans had anticipated this.

Hidden ditches and stakes awaited them, throwing the riders into disarray.

In the valley, the around 5000 strong Roman force (many of them had already fallen to the Barbarians) continued their controlled retreat, overstretching the central Barbarian army, drawing them deeper into the kill zone.

Marcus saw his moment.

"Ready the cavalry!" he shouted.

Then, he mounted his horse, his voice cutting through the din.

"With me, cavalry! FOR ROME!"

Unexpectedly, 2500 Roman cavalry emerged from the ravine, charging into the rear of the Barbarian centre, where their commanders were.

Their attacks swift and devastating.

Swords slashed mercilessly through unprotected backs and the horde's cohesion crumbled as panic set in.

Marcus himself led the charge, his blade cutting a path through the chaos.

"Break them!" he roared, his voice carrying above the screams and the clash of steel.

The Barbarian chieftain, a towering figure with a horned helmet tried to rally his warriors. Marcus spotted him and charged. The rest of the cavalry following tightly behind him. The fight was fierce but it ended quickly when Marcus slashed his chest from atop the horse.

The sight of their leader falling broke the Barbarian's spirit.

A young Barbarian was the first to panic and flee. Seeing the young guy fleeing, all the other Barbarians felt as if a sword was right over their heads and soon they began to scatter too.

Some tried to retreat up the valley, only to be cut down by the ambush forces.

Others scattered into the woods, pursued by auxiliaries and cavalry.

It was a bloody massacre.

The Romans morale was so high they didn't feel any exhaustion, only excitement and bloodlust.

Seeing this, Marcus raised his sword high, signaling the trumpets to sound the call for victory. His men cheered as the remaining Barbarians fled or surrendered.

This triumph would soon spread all over Europe, Marcus' name becoming famous overnight.