Chapter 56: Deception

Chapter 56: Deception

With these thoughts in mind, Furius felt a surge of energy and excitement, and he gave the order once again: “Let the soldiers increase their marching speed!”

A centurion couldn’t help but remind him, “Sir, the weather is hot today. We should prevent the soldiers from marching excessively and risking heatstroke!”

Furius glared at him and cunningly argued, “Precisely because it’s hot, we need to speed up and try to reach Naples as soon as possible. By then, I will strive to have the people of Naples provide the soldiers with Vesuvian wine to quench their thirst.”

Furius had his subordinates spread his explanation, and the soldiers stopped complaining and instead cheered.

Seeing this, Furius smirked with satisfaction, looking up at the blazing sun in the sky. Camp Commander Cossinius used to be Varinius’ comrade-in-arms. As a seasoned soldier, he should slow down the march in such scorching conditions... This way, when I depart from Naples tomorrow and attack the slave camp, Cossinius’ troops will still have more than half a day’s journey remaining. Even if I defeat those slaves, they might not be able to catch up...

Lost in his thoughts, Furius was interrupted by a Roman cavalryman riding ahead, holding a spear with feathers tied to it (indicating he was a temporary messenger with urgent news). The soldiers quickly cleared a path for him.

“Report, sir! There are over 5,000 slaves approaching us!” The scout rider anxiously reported to Furius.

“Five thousand slaves...” Furius, instead of feeling nervous upon hearing this, became excited. “These lowly slaves didn’t stay in their own camp and dared to launch an attack on us proactively! They’ve come at just the right time, saving us a lot of effort!”

“Sir, their numbers may be far more than 5,000, and they even have cavalry. They have driven us out, so we couldn’t conduct deeper reconnaissance,” the scout reminded him.

“Cavalry?!” Furius was momentarily stunned, then quickly asked, “What about the equipment of these slaves?”

“Most of them have no armor, not even weapons. They carry farming tools and clubs, only a few have equipment similar to ours, probably obtained from the previous battle.”

Furius grew even more confident and immediately asked, “How far away are these slaves from us?”

“Um... when I left, it was about three kilometers.”

Furius stopped asking questions and turned to the messenger, saying, “Order the soldiers to halt immediately, put on their armor, take up their swords and shields, move into formation facing south, and prepare to confront the enemy!”

The messenger had also heard the scout’s report and didn’t raise any objections like “The enemy is approaching fiercely, we should retreat temporarily.” Instead, he believed Furius’ decision was only natural: How could Roman citizens withdraw in front of a group of lowly slaves? No matter how many they are, they are nothing more than a disorganized mob!

With this mindset, he galloped alongside the marching column, shouting loudly.

Woo!

Crixus, Oenomaus, Artorix, and Artemus, each standing at the forefront of their respective troops, heard the order to attack. They all turned back and shouted: “Brothers, follow me and advance!”

The entire army formation began to move forward. Ahead lay the Roman army that dominated the Mediterranean. The soldiers, originally slaves, couldn’t help feeling nervous, their palms sweating as they gripped their weapons. But being part of this massive military formation, with their ears filled with the excited shouts of their comrades and their eyes fixed on the strong, agile backs of the gladiators before them, their fear gradually faded. A desire for revenge surged within them, and their pace quickened...

Translator's Notes:

It was a wooden pole used by Roman soldiers to carry their belongings. ↩︎

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