Crassus issued an order to annihilate the rebels encamped in the hills three days later.
The Roman army immediately began to prepare for battle.
The scene of the eight legions moving in unison was majestic enough to be thought of as a wave of human beings.
In fact, the siege was already over, so the rebels were like rats in a trap.
There is no need to attack in this situation.
This is because it is natural for enemies who are running out of food to self-destruct if they are 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 legions that were all ready to attack.
"How can a man who has already established enough military merits come out so greedy?"
Crassus originally intended to begin the battle after at least a week of siege.
It might be possible to starve them to death, but if you go that far against a half-destroyed rebel army, you might be evaluated as being too passive.
Anyway, it was easy to annihilate no matter how much you fought if you roughly lost all your strength.
When he posted the next report, he fought bravely from the front, so it was enough to wrap it up properly.
However, the plan was entangled due to Pompeius's legions returning to Rome faster than expected.
Having already reached the northern part of the Italian peninsula, he began moving south frighteningly.
Reports that Pompeius's legions had passed west of Capua reached Crassus' camp just yesterday.
In the end, Crassus turned his plan to continue the siege into a blank and decided to carry out a full-scale attack.
If Pompeius's Legion joins, they will share the credit for subjugating the rebels between the two.
It was an absolutely unacceptable result from Crassus' point of view.
The movement of the Roman army, which suddenly entered combat readiness, was visible to the rebels on the hill.
"Will you come in?"
Crixus muttered with an incomprehensible expression.
Until yesterday, they were firmly forming a siege. He had no idea what the wind was suddenly like.
"Anyway, good news for us. I'd like to know 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 army's position is close to suicide. But it was a situation where there was no other way.
"We can have a cool fight on the last way."
Just because the Roman army turned into an attack does not mean the rebels have a chance of winning. However, there was hope that he could fight in a situation where he could not do anything and lose.
"Ashre, once again tell your men to be thorough in defense. No matter how much they come in from there first, it doesn't change the fact that we are in an overwhelming inferiority."
"Yes. But, Captain, are you really going to fight on the front lines? Still, it's better to look at the situation and join the war...…."
"This is the final battle anyway. As I said before, I will leave the command to you. Remember what I said yesterday."
"Isn't that too much? Didn't you go to the Roman camp alone last time? If the Romans had played tricks at that time, we would have lost our commander-in-chief."
"It would have been better if it had been. We are not equals to them, we are nothing more than slave rebels. By the way, the captain who asked for a meeting alone is captured and executed? It would have been the subject of great ridicule. In the first place, the pride that Roman bastards have won't allow that."
Crixus, who saw the Roman army fully ready for battle, drew his sword straight up toward the sky.
Chow Chow Chow-
Following Crixus's footsteps, 30,000 suicide squads pulled out 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 has been an honor to fight with you so far. Let's show those Romans our last will! Don't be afraid. I'll take the lead more than anyone else. Let no one here suffer the shame of being struck by a sword in the back!"
At the same time, Crassus took out his weapon and aimed it at the hill.
"All troops, get in line and move forward! Today is the day of great victory. The heroes who quenched this rebellion will be me and you, not anyone else!"
"Waaaaa!"
The footsteps of 80,000 soldiers shook the earth.
Thirty thousand rebels are running from the hills.
50,000 Roman legionaries, on the contrary, going up to the hills.
The fighting began with the throwing pilums by 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 give up! 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, not being able to use cavalry was not at all disadvantageous to the Roman army.
Instead, it is the hand-to-hand combat in which infantry confront each other like this reveals the true value of the Roman army.
Hastati, full of physical strength, consumes the enemy's physical strength and the experiences Principes placed in the right back row overpowering the enemy in earnest.
Triarii, composed of the eldest veterans, stood by at the rear. Then, when the situation came to make a tactical move, it organically put them into the front line to assist their allies.
This is the traditional formation of the Roman infantry of the past, the manipular system.
Thanks to this line, the Roman army was able to show organic movements that other forces could not dare to overcome.
Although Marius' military reform broke down the distinction between these three-war systems and unified their armed forces, the tradition of utilizing this systematic flow of ranks has not completely disappeared.
Individual combat power may be overwhelmed by gladiators, but the difference is reversed in group warfare.
Moreover, among the soldiers of the rebels, only a few gladiators were good at fighting individually.
Naturally, the fight turned in favor of the Roman army.
He stabbed the rebels with his spatha and gladius. He split their skulls with his hasta and cut the heads of those who fell with his scutum.
No matter how much the rebels fought with their lives, there was a difference in power that they could not fill.
If one can make the strongest army only with one's mental strength, no country in the world is struggling to build up its military.
"We need reinforcement in the center line. Send another centurion!"
"The side collapsed! Break through 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, are the backbone of the Roman army.
Especially when it becomes a power contest between infantry like this, their ability shines even more.
The rebels began to lose strength.
While the number of Roman troops hardly decreased, the number of insurgents decreased rapidly over time.
It would have already collapsed if it had not been for the indomitable determination to show its last will.
It is tenaciously holding on with only one spirit that is not afraid of death.
It wasn't that it didn't work.
They maintained the battle even under strange circumstances, even if it had already collapsed due to fear.
As Crixus said, no one showed their backs.
All the wounds on the bodies of the dying rebels were concentrated on their bodies and faces.
There was one more reason why the rebels could not yet collapse.
It is thanks to the struggles of Crixus, who is fighting hard on the front line, and the gladiators he leads.
"Come on, come on! You won't be able to end this war without crossing my body!"
Crixus let out a thunderous roar and thrust his sword into the Roman legionnaire's heart.
The elite gladiators he led were not only mentally strong. They are also talented enough to support their burning fighting spirit.
Crixus helped the gladiators who were fighting fiercely and cut down the Roman army one by one.
Running around in all directions and cutting down people was like an angry lion.
Even Crassus, who was far away, could clearly see Crixus' performance.
"The more I see him, the more I feel sorry for him. If he were born Roman, he would have been a really good soldier."
Mumbling to himself, he turned his head toward Spartacus next to him.
"Can you really win?"
"I can win."
Spartacus stepped forward. There was no hesitation in his strong eyes.
In fact, Crassus had no desire to permit this duel.
There is not much time for Crixus to run wild like that anyway. As long as you are human, your physical strength cannot be infinite, and it is difficult for one hand to handle both.
If you keep calm and tighten it with troops, you'll soon reveal your limits. He didn't feel the need to bet a one-on-one duel.
If you lose, there is a risk that a fight you could easily end 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. A slave's credit is his master's credit. If Spartacus knocks down the enemy, it will greatly enhance the status of the family."
"But what if he lose?"
"Didn't father also see Spartacus' fight in Rome? He won't lose. Of course, even if he lose, there's a way."
The last word was Marcus' bluff, but it was enough to reassure Crassus.
With the development of military strategies, the proportion of one-on-one duels between countries has decreased. However, it was not that there were no cases at all.
Marcellus, who is called the honorable title of the sword of Rome, is a representative example.
He won a short-term battle with Viridomarus, the leader of the Insubres of Gaul, and won a great honor.
This was a great temptation for Crassus, who was already conscious of Pompeius.
To be compared with Pompeius, who brilliantly put down Sertorius' rebellion, a certain amount of topicality is essential.
There is no problem because there are all measures to take when you lose. Crassus also decided to take the word of his son.
"All right, go, slash the enemy and reap the glory. If that happens, no one will call you a slave anymore."
It means that if you win the battle and give glory to the family, he will free you.
It was a condition that all slaves would turn a blind eye to, but Spartacus didn't care.
Regardless of his status, his master is only Marcus. This is because he has already promised to live like that for the rest of his life.
He cut through the crowd and approached Crixus.
Crixus smiled faintly after noticing his close friend's approach, even in the chaotic battle.
He slit the throat of a Roman soldier and uttered a cry that the ground would roar.
"The one who takes my neck will be the hero who ended this war!"
A moment of temptation passed through the eyes of Roman soldiers. Still, no one rushed in.
Even if it was an extremely short time, the central army stopped the sword.
A voice stretched like thunder from behind the Roman soldiers, squeezing the moment's silence.
"Your opponent is me. Crixus."
It focused everyone's attention on the whole thing.
Crassus, the commander-in-chief of the Roman army, allowed it, and Crixus, the rebel army leader, accepted it.
The central line was in full swing and faced a temporary ceasefire.
When the center stopped fighting, the other places naturally stopped wielding their weapons for a moment.
Crixus, who could afford to look around, smiled bitterly.
No one complained, but the rebels were already close to their limits.
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, did not suffer much damage. It was an army so powerful that it was tongue-in-cheek.
Leaving his eyes behind his fallen colleagues' bodies, Crixus aimed his sword at Spartacus.
It was time to end the long and short relationship and life.
"Let's make a decision."
Spartacus did not immediately draw the sword. Instead, he slowly shook his head and opened his mouth.
"Take a breath first. I don't want to cut you down when you're tired."
Crixus's eyebrows twitched slightly, and soon a thin smile appeared on his lips.
Unlike Spartacus, who had not participated in the battle so far, Crixus had always fought against the Romans.
If they had fought in this state, they could have unexpectedly ended in vain.
In fact, Marcus was aiming for this and sent Spartacus after the battle.
However, Spartacus even took off his chain armor, Lorica Hamata, which he wore on his body.
"Even if you rest a little, your physical strength will not return completely. I'll take off my armor so that it won't be a boring game."
Marcus, who was watching the situation from a distance, shook his head as he touched his forehead.
At the same time, he laughed at the thought that he looked just like him.
If he loses like that, he will be a fool in the world, but Spartacus is different.
When he wins that way, people go crazy for him.
It is not arrogance but absolute confidence in one's own abilities.
Feeling the unusual atmosphere, Crixus took a deep breath and recovered his physical strength.
"Something's different than before. He's a friend I can't get enough of."
"I'm sorry to you, but I have no intention of doing it moderately."
"Ha! Who's going to say that?"
A light smile passed through his face, flashing with fighting spirit. At the same time, the two pulled out their spathas and took a stance.
The sun reflected on Spartacus' sword, painting a shiny trajectory. At the same time, the two gladiators representing the era rushed into each other and unleashed all their abilities to the limit.
Chow Chow Chow!
'It's strong!'
As was felt in previous clashes, Crixus was superior to anyone Spartacus had ever faced.
The flexibility and speed Spartacus does not yet have are alive and breathing on Crixus' sword.
Crixus's feelings were similar. Spartacus' sword was full of strong power that Crixus would not gain in his life.
Chaeeng!
Strong metallicity burst out one after another as if it would tear the eardrum.
How many times have swords collided with each other?
A single hit would make a difference between life and death, but the two had no distinction at all.
It just draws all its power to the bottom and uses it.
Caang!
The two swords collided in the air, pushing the bodies of both sides away.
Spartacus immediately moved and struck the sword again. There was a sense of crisis in Crixus' eyes, which were not completely shocked.
But he had the experience and ability to use crises as an opportunity.
He moved his sword flexibly and spilled Spartacus' sword. Crixus, who used his hitting power to widen the distance, burned his fighting spirit and stabbed the sword in reverse.
Sheeing!
The speed of tremendous speed brushed past Spartacus' shoulder. His sword made complicated movements.
It is not easy to predict the direction in which the sword flies.
He added the basic skill obtained through blood-sharpening training to the sharpness cultivated through numerous real battles.
It was such a perfection that it was impossible to find gaps.
"Haap!"
Along with the joy that burst out of Crixus' mouth, blood gushed from Spartacus' forearm.
It wasn't a good cut, but he felt a stinging pain.
'If there's no gap, you're forced to squeeze it! No matter how fast and complicated the sword is, I am stronger.'
The victory of the gladiatorial fight begins with self-confidence.
No matter how strong Crixus became, Spartacus also became stronger than before. There's no reason he can't beat an opponent once he's won again.
Spartacus's sword, which had been dizzy for a while, found its original trajectory.
The number of times their swords collided quickly exceeded the sum of hundreds.
"Is that really a human fight?…."
The exclamation someone muttered is the feeling of everyone watching this sword fight. Everyone's heart trembled with excitement watching the best match that would never happen again.
Sheeing!
Crixus' sword narrowly brushed aside and cut the air.
Spartacus' sword moved like a flash, unleashing enormous power.
Crixus, who judged that it would be hard to get, stepped back.
That was a bad judgment.
Spartacus' sword blade dazzlingly flashed as he rushed forward with the same momentum as he swung his sword.
Crixus, who judged that there was nothing more to avoid, also clenched his teeth and forced him to rush forward again.
Crossed swords on both sides.
Spartacus had a bright smile on his long-lost wife's face.
His body deflected the approaching sword and, at the same time, struck off the blow with all its might.
Chaaaaaaagh!
The touch on the hand was so clear that it was heartbreaking.
Vivid blood sprayed from Crixus' chest.
Spartacus' face looked at those blurry eyes with a hint of sadness.
Crixus stuck a sword in the ground and forced himself to support himself as he tried to move forward.
He let out a heavy breath in a voice that sounded somehow relieved.
"Two defeats to the same opponent.... If I lose to you again...… I thought it would be a shame...…."
"Crixus..."
Their skills were similar.
But the one who died and tried to leave a legacy. Another one who survived and lived to the end.
The difference between the two people's perspectives on the future made the difference between winning and losing.
Flop.
Eventually, Crixus' body was torn apart. The sound of his fall is like a sign of the end of the rebellion.
"Lastly... I'll just say one thing."
There was no fighting spirit or fear of death in Crixus' voice. It only contained the anxious feelings of a man who was a teacher, student, and close friend.
"Our path is over, but you're just beginning.... got it? If you're alive...… we never die to your heart...… Our will...…."
"I know, your lives...… I'll spend the rest of my life trying not to be in vain. So take it easy."
"Haha…. I believe... I'll leave it to you...."
Crixus' voice faded away. He left his last word by lying on the earth and looking up at the sky.
"...everything I want to do... Now that I've done it... It wasn't a bad life. You think so, don't you?"
His eyes closed with a contented smile that didn't match the stubborn mouth.
There was the end of a man who heroically extinguished the last spark of his life.
A hero, who has lived a life of fierce struggle, sends a wind of freedom to the other side of the blue sky.
Spartacus, seeing off his friend with a single tear, stood up and raised his sword.
"Spartacus, the gladiator of the Crassus family, has slashed the enemy general!"
"Wowaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
The echoing cheers swept around Spartacus' exhibition.
The birth of a great hero.
Marcus, who was watching the scene from afar, also had a happy smile on his mouth.