Chapter 21: Competition (2) The Roman army was caught off guard by the rebels' active movement.
The Romans were advancing with full precautions, expecting a possible surprise attack. However, the rebels emerged on the plain first.
Initially, Crassus assumed the enemy had a plan, but Spartacus offered a different perspective.
"Crixus is a cautious leader. He likely avoided battle to lure us into a trap when we were off guard. But now, by confronting us on the plain, it seems his forces have grown too large and unmanageable."
"Ah, that makes sense. They're not well-trained soldiers, and they aren't a unified force."
Leading a large, diverse group is challenging, especially one composed mainly of lower-class individuals and poorly trained slaves.
Spartacus, familiar with Crixus, deduced much from the rebels' movements.
"Although it seems they're preparing for a decisive battle, the plain they've chosen is a good escape route if they're defeated. It's a strategic compromise."
"That's a solid argument," Crassus admitted, acknowledging the wisdom in bringing Spartacus on board. Not only were their troops superior, but understanding the enemy's psychology also increased their chances of victory.
Crassus glanced at the detailed map and asked, "What do you think they'll do if they lose?"
"If they lose, they'll struggle to regroup on the peninsula. If I were in Crixus' position, I'd probably retreat to Sicily."
"I see. Sicily has many slaves on its farms, making it a suitable place for rebuilding their strength."
Anticipating the enemy's next move would simplify their situation.
Crassus issued orders to his subordinates with a thoughtful smile. In reality, it was Crassus who felt the urgency.
Initially, they had decided to advance slowly, but news from Hispania changed everything.
Sertorius, who had been a persistent threat, was assassinated, quickly ending the rebellion. Pompey, dispatched to Hispania, was now heading to Rome with his army.
Pompey's intent was clear: to crush Crixus' rebellion and consolidate military power for himself.
Although Crassus didn't particularly like Pompey, he recognized his capabilities. Pompey's military prowess was unparalleled in Roman history. Even Sulla, who had won numerous wars, considered Pompey a military genius.
If Pompey returned to Rome, the rebels would be swiftly defeated.
Crassus knew there was a high chance he would be overwhelmed without the opportunity to act.
Crassus considered it a significant stroke of luck that the rebels had emerged onto the plains of their own accord.
Seeing the rebel flags from across the camp now appeared almost welcoming.
Marcus, standing beside Crassus, also marveled at the sight.
"That's an enormous force," Marcus remarked.
"Yes," Crassus agreed. "It seems they have nearly double our numbers."
"It's actually fortunate," Marcus said. "This shows they're not planning any tricks. They've clearly committed all their resources to this battle."
From a distance, it was evident that the rebels' armament and attire were inconsistent, with their flags looking crude and likely scavenged from Roman sources.
Despite this, Crassus remained cautious. He knew that previous Roman commanders had been defeated by underestimating their foes.
Determined not to make the same mistake, Crassus meticulously managed every detail of his troop deployment.
Spartacus' insights were invaluable.
"The Romans traditionally deploy heavily armed infantry at the front and use cavalry to attack the flanks. If I were in Crixus' position, I would place pikemen on the flanks to counter the cavalry and spread my forces widely to encircle the enemy, leveraging their numbers."
The rebels' limited weaponry restricted their options. A poor initial formation would be difficult to correct.
Crassus felt a surge of excitement as he observed the rebels' wide-open formation—it matched his expectations.
He clapped Spartacus on the shoulder and offered a heartfelt compliment.
"If we win this battle, it will be thanks to you. I won't forget it."
"Thank you. Your words are enough," Spartacus replied.
As the distance between the two forces closed, the moment of reckoning drew near. Crassus raised his sword, ready to lead.
"Soldiers of Rome, crush the enemies!"
With that command, the eight Roman legions surged forward.
"Waaaaaa!"
"Let's annihilate all the rebels!"
The Roman army remained undeterred despite being outnumbered two to one.
As the dust rose from the galloping horse hooves, it signaled the start of a fierce battle.
The rebels, brimming with confidence from their previous victories, stood their ground. All the pent-up resentment towards Rome was unleashed in a unified roar.
"Let's kill all the Romans!"
"If we win here, Rome will be ours!"
"Whoaaaaa!"
Both sides spread out in wide formations and charged at each other.
However, the Roman army's center halted midway through their advance and remained in position.
In contrast, the Roman cavalry executed a coordinated maneuver, riding in unison from the flanks as anticipated.
"The cavalry are coming! Put your long spears forward and block their advance!" the commander of the flanks shouted confidently. The predictable movement of the enemy cavalry bolstered his confidence.
The rebels had their own strategy. They planned to spread out widely and encircle the enemy.
With their numbers vastly superior, they intended to contain the cavalry's flanking maneuver and press their advantage in the center.
As predicted, the majority of the enemy cavalry moved to flank the rebels. But the cavalry did not close in as expected. Instead of charging, they kept their distance and began firing arrows from medium to long range.
Peeing! Bubbubuck!
"You bastards!"
"Hey, they're shooting arrows! Kkeaak!"
Unlike previous Roman armies, this time the cavalry was equipped with stirrups, allowing them to maintain distance while launching a relentless barrage of arrows, effectively harassing the slow-moving rebels.
For the rebels, who had limited cavalry, there was little they could do but brace themselves for the onslaught.
"Shields up! Move the shield soldiers forward! Those horsemen are shooting arrows at us!"
While the lancers on the flanks fell back helplessly, the shield soldiers who arrived late positioned their large shields to cover the front and top. This offered some protection from the arrows, but the speed of the flanks noticeably slowed, and gaps began to form in their ranks.
The situation at the front was equally dire.
The Roman army, initially feigning a charge, now unleashed a devastating volley from their scorpios—an advanced version of the ballista adapted for field combat. The scorpio, a powerful anti-personnel crossbow, had a range of up to 400 meters and could fire 3 to 4 rounds per minute.
With approximately 60 scorpios deployed per corps, the Romans had a total of 480 scorpios on the plains.
The rebels' poor equipment could not withstand the onslaught of the scorpio bolts.
"Move out! Damn it!"
"Aaaaaa!"
Each release of the scorpio's bundle of twisted ropes was met with the eerie sound of bolts and the screams of dying rebels.
The firepower of the scorpios far exceeded what the rebels' shields could block. Dozens of rebels who charged bravely forward were impaled by the large arrows and fell, bloodied.
"Charge forward! If we can get closer, they can't shoot those weapons anymore!"
Responding to the commander's orders, the rebels in the center increased their pace, desperately trying to close the distance.
As the flanks continued to fend off the cavalry archers and the center struggled to cope with the scorpios' fire, Crassus saw his opportunity.
"Send in the heavy cavalry!"
Two hundred Roman heavy cavalry, modeled after the Parthian cataphracts, surged into the center.
The Roman strategy was not to break through the flanks from the beginning but to use a coordinated assault to overwhelm the rebels.
The strategy was to force the pikemen to the left and right under the pretense of attacking the flanks, while the real breakthrough would come through the center.
The rebels were stunned by the sight of the heavily armored cavalry, outfitted with full armor for both riders and horses.
This was a new experience for them, as they had not seen such formidable cavalry in their previous encounters with Rome.
"What, what is this! We never saw cavalry like that before!"
"You said the Roman cavalry would come from the flanks! What's happening?"
"Don't panic! The Romans' crossbows have stopped firing! If we form a tight formation, these few cavalrymen can't break through. Everyone, stick to your training!"
The rebel commanders shouted to regain control amidst the confusion, reminding their forces of their numerical advantage.
Despite their superior numbers, the rebels were quickly disorganized. As the rebels in the center tried to form ranks, the Roman heavy cavalry was already charging straight at them.
The horses, having accelerated to their limit, used the couched lance and stirrups to transfer the full force of their charge onto the enemy soldiers.
The rebels could not anticipate the sheer destructive power of this assault.
The cavalry's charge hit with a devastating force, creating a thunderous crash that the rebels had never heard before.
-Kwajajajajak!
The bodies of the rebel infantry were crushed with a horrifying noise.
The destructive impact was so overwhelming that even the Roman infantry, following the cavalry, were shocked.
"Ughhhhhh!"
"Help me!"
These were not the cries of men pierced by spears but the screams of rebels who died instantly under the charge of the heavily armored cavalry.
The foot soldiers of the rebel army, witnessing the carnage, trembled in fear, their hatred for the Roman army momentarily forgotten.
"No, stop!"
One of the commanders shouted desperately, but it was his last act.
Four infantrymen, including the commander, were impaled by the charging spears at terrifying speed.
There's an old saying about warriors who were so brave that one could defeat a hundred. Though there were only 200 heavy cavalry, their destructive power was comparable to that mythical prowess.
In warfare, morale is crucial. Once an army's morale is shattered, regaining their fighting spirit is nearly impossible. Those who lose their will to fight quickly become easy prey on the battlefield.
"Aaaagh! Run away!"
"They never mentioned monsters like this!"
The rebels' screams pierced the sky as the cavalry surged through them like a relentless force.
Those who were directly hit by the cavalry were lucky; they died instantly without a chance to scream.
Those caught in the periphery of the charge suffered broken bones and were trampled under the horses' hooves, enduring excruciating pain before dying.
Such a charge was beyond the capability of infantry to block effectively. Even with Rome's superior forces, this was a level of destruction not seen before.
The relatively poorly equipped rebels had no chance but to be slaughtered mercilessly.
Marcus, observing from a distance, was astonished.
'This is even more powerful than I imagined.'
The original plan had been to use the heavy cavalry to destabilize the enemy and then neutralize them by coordinating with the infantry. However, the heavy cavalry did more than stir up the enemy; they crushed them utterly.
The battle was effectively over with the initial check from the cavalry.
Even after their decisive charge, the heavy cavalry continued to trample the fleeing rebels, leaving many wondering if such relentless force was even necessary.
The rebels, unable to stand their ground, fled in panic. Their formation had long since disintegrated.
With the rebels' morale shattered, the Roman army surged forward like a relentless wave.
The heavily armed Roman infantry ruthlessly speared and slashed at the demoralized rebels.
"Aww!"
"Run away! Everyone, run away!"
The central rebel forces fell apart amid the desperate cries of their soldiers.
The Roman army pushed forward, splitting the rebel camp in two. The rebels were now surrounded and trapped.
Particularly, some commanders who remained in the center were encircled and completely cut off from escape.
The sight of enemies closing in from all directions was sheer terror.
"Ugh... Ah, no..."
"Run anywhere!"
Despite their frantic attempts to retreat, the rebels could see nothing but Roman soldiers closing in on them. The only sight was the glint of Roman weapons.
Like driftwood in a storm, the rebels were overwhelmed by a relentless barrage of spears and knives.
With the center of their formation breached, the outcome of the battle was clear.
Realizing their victory, the Roman battalion commanders shifted their focus to total annihilation.
"The enemies have already fallen! Kill them all!"
"Don't let them escape! We'll push them back and annihilate them completely!"
The rebels on the left flank were thrown into confusion by the unexpected turn of events.
With the center decimated and the light cavalry continuously firing arrows, the situation was dire. The former slave shepherd commander, who had previously advocated for a decisive battle, now looked grave.
His men, once confident, were now desperately brandishing their weapons, their faces pale with fear.
"Everyone, don't panic! Regroup and fall back!"
The focus had shifted from victory to mere survival. However, with the rebels surrounded on three sides and no escape route except to the rear, their situation was dire.
Adding to the chaos, the heavily armed cavalry, having breached the center, began attacking from the rear, causing further carnage.
"Kyaa!"
"Help! Please save me!"
The air was filled with the screams of the dying and the sound of bodies hitting the ground.
The Romans showed no mercy. Fueled by the resentment from previous defeats, they brutally crushed the rebels.
As the center was devastated, the left wing was also driven to the edge of annihilation.
Fortunately, the right wing managed to retreat and began fleeing into the woods.
This was thanks to Crixus, who saw the breach in the center and ordered a retreat without hesitation.
"Everyone, get to the forest and regroup at the designated point! Don't attempt to fight back! Just retreat immediately!"
Crixus could not bear to order a final stand. What was happening was sheer slaughter. Sacrificing oneself in such a situation would be futile and accomplish nothing.
Shortly after the battle began, nearly half of the rebels' soldiers were dead. In contrast, the Romans sustained minimal losses—likely fewer than 1,000.
The main cause of this devastation was the formidable Roman cavalry. By decimating the center early on, they caused the rebel formation to collapse, leaving the rebels helpless.
It was a crushing defeat. In this single engagement, the rebels lost everything they had built up until now. Yet, they had not given up hope. If they could save at least one-third of their forces, they might still escape and plan for the future.
Fortunately, thanks to a swift assessment of the situation, the soldiers on the right wing managed to retreat into the woods. Even the powerful Roman cavalry would struggle to pursue them through the dense forest.
Crixus discarded his helmet and armor, which hindered his escape, and rode his horse with all his might. As he fled, he saw his left-wing troops being surrounded and slaughtered.
'Sorry.'
Though he desperately wanted to help, rushing in would only add to the number of casualties.
"The Romans... you've been hiding this kind of power all along? How could you underestimate us until now!"
Crixus's frustration stemmed from a misunderstanding of the situation. The Romans had used their strategic advantage to devastating effect, and Crixus failed to fully grasp their tactics.
Before disappearing into the woods, Crixus took one last look at the Roman army, determined to remember the enemy general who had wrought such destruction.
Even from a distance, he could clearly see the stern figure of Crassus, the enemy commander in the scarlet cloak.
But then, Crixus stopped in his tracks, struck by an unexpected sight. Someone he never thought he would see was also staring back at him from afar. Their eyes met in a silent exchange.
Crixus realized why his thoughts seemed so exposed. The other's gaze reflected anger, passion, resentment, and even a hint of joy.
A voice filled with a mix of emotions escaped his lips.
"Is that you... Spartacus?"
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