Crassus was pleased, believing that everything was proceeding according to plan. A Roman legion typically consisted of 6,500 men, so an army of eight legions meant over 50,000 troops—an enormous force. Few men were permitted to command such a large army, and this would ensure Crassus's place in history as one of the rare commanders of such scale.
Moreover, successfully suppressing the rebellion would bring him one step closer to achieving his goal of becoming consul. In fact, quelling the rebellion would almost certainly confirm his political ambitions.
The damage inflicted by Crixus's rebels in the southern cities was catastrophic. Unlike historical accounts, Crixus remained in the south, looting and wreaking havoc rather than heading north. His actions were fulfilling his declaration and becoming a symbol of his fury against Rome.
This situation was advantageous for Crassus. The more Crixus rampaged, the more Crassus's value as the one who would restore order increased. The preparations for the expedition were perfectly set.
All of this was possible because his son had predicted the situation. Crassus had resolved never to doubt or refuse his son's requests. However, that resolve vanished the moment he entered the house and heard Marcus's request.
"What? You want to join the expedition? Are you joking?"
"I'm not joking. I'm asking sincerely."
"It's out of the question! No matter how much you ask, the answer is absolutely no. A child who will be only 13 or 14 next year going to the battlefield? I will never allow it!"
Crassus's reaction was understandable. Rome never conscripted children under the age of 17, even in wartime, and this rule was strictly followed, even during Hannibal's invasion.
Marcus had anticipated this reaction and continued his persuasion calmly.
"I'm not asking to fight on the battlefield. I only want to observe the direction of the fight closely. Additionally, I need to see how the new cavalry I designed performs in real combat to identify any improvements."
"That may be true, but it's still too dangerous. If the goal is to improve the cavalry, it should suffice to review the opinions of those who have fought."
"No, I need to see it myself, and I will remain in the rear, far from direct combat. Spartacus will be with me, and I promise to retreat if danger arises."
"How can I trust Spartacus to ensure your safety?"
"Trust him as much as you trust me. He's my subordinate."
Crassus was about to firmly refuse but chose to hold back, realizing that an emotional rejection would not persuade Marcus. He needed to present a logical argument.
"A battlefield is a dynamic environment where decisions can determine victory or defeat. Even a minor disruption in command can distort outcomes. I mean…"
"But on the contrary, there is an element that could provide us with a decisive advantage in the war."
"What? What is that supposed to mean?"
"That's Spartacus. I've mentioned him before. All of Crixus's military knowledge came from Spartacus. In other words, Spartacus can anticipate Crixus's strategies and movements. His advice would be invaluable."
Crassus hesitated. While Marcus suggested Spartacus would be a great asset, Crassus was reluctant to fully trust him.
Marcus continued his persuasion.
"Moreover, Spartacus's very presence could lower the enemy's morale. The core of the rebels now consists of gladiators who escaped from Capua, and Spartacus was their spiritual leader. His presence in the enemy ranks would naturally diminish their morale."
"Hmmm… Well, maybe I'll take him with me…"
"Didn't my father say he couldn't fully trust Spartacus? I'm the only one Spartacus is completely loyal to. Without me, Spartacus wouldn't agree to go to war."
Crassus rubbed his forehead wearily, feeling as though he was being persuaded against his will. He experienced a sense of confusion similar to when he had fled to Hispania to escape Marian persecution.
Now, feeling logic might not sway him, he appealed to emotion.
"Think this through carefully. If you, who are still young, go to war, imagine how anxious your mother will be. And your younger brother? Even Dana, who follows you like a shadow, will be beside herself with worry. It's better for you to stay here with the people who care about you."
"I understand it will cause them concern. My safety is of the utmost importance to me, and I will not be reckless. I will take every precaution to protect myself."
"Do you think that will be enough, even with Spartacus by your side?"
"Of course, it's not enough. I've already hired soldiers who are willing to sacrifice their lives to protect me if necessary. They will always be by my side and will give up their lives to buy me time to escape if danger arises."
Marcus wasn't fearless about the battlefield. If given a choice, he would prefer to stay in a safe place. However, for his future and to advance in Rome, he needed to gain war experience. Historically, a war that was expected to be won was the best training ground for this.
Additionally, it was important for Spartacus to participate in this war and contribute. If the rebellion was suppressed, Spartacus might be tainted by prejudice as a gladiator from Capua. But if he played a significant role in suppressing the rebels, it could significantly enhance his reputation.
Rather, Spartacus will be hailed as a hero who fought against an old comrade for Rome.
It might seem harsh to Spartacus, but Marcus must participate in this war for his future.
Sensing Marcus's determination, Crassus's expression grew stern. He looked as though he wanted to protest immediately, but he took a deep breath and sighed.
"What will you do if I refuse to let you go?"
"I will pursue all available options."
"I don't understand. Why would you want to go to the battlefield when it's not even a situation where you can make a name for yourself?"
"This war will be beneficial to me. It could bring significant advantages not only to me but also to my family's business. Please, trust me this once."
Crassus remained silent for a moment, looking up at the sky, biting his lip, and sighing deeply.
After a pause, he nodded weakly.
"If you're set on going no matter what, stopping you might only make things worse. It could lead you to act recklessly. So, I'll allow you to join the army, but you must promise to strictly follow my orders."
"Really? Thank you!"
"However, you must always stay by my side. Never leave my barracks without permission, even when we are in camp. If any danger arises, I will not let you participate in the battlefield until you are of age. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course."
For now, Marcus only needed this opportunity. After this war, he wouldn't need to face another battlefield until he was older.
He had surprisingly cleared the biggest hurdle—Crassus's permission.
As he prepared for his first experience on the battlefield, Marcus felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness. It was a natural reaction for anyone facing such a momentous occasion.
Taking a deep breath, Marcus focused on finalizing his plans.
**
"Are you going to the battlefield?"
"Yes, that's correct."
Spartacus nodded calmly. He had already anticipated that Marcus would request this.
"Then I will accompany you."
"Are you sure about that?"
Spartacus's calm demeanor seemed to make Marcus's serious persuasion efforts unnecessary. Despite the prospect of fighting against former comrades, Spartacus appeared almost relieved, as if he had made his decision long ago.
It wasn't that Spartacus was cold-blooded.
"Since the day I discussed Crixus with you, I've regretted it. The regret began as soon as I heard about the rebellion."
"Do you regret coming to Rome with me?"
"No. I'm certain that the path I'm on is the right one. My regret lies in not being more assertive with Crixus when I left Capua. At that time, I didn't fully believe in you—I only hoped for it. Crixus likely saw through my doubts."
Spartacus smiled bitterly and shrugged. His voice carried a note of remorse.
"So many people have died already, and more will follow. It may seem like Crixus is succeeding now, but he is merely postponing his defeat. Before I came here, I felt the immense potential of Rome. I only understood it intellectually, not through experience."
Spartacus knew Crixus well and had a deep understanding of Rome's resilience.
The local victories Crixus achieved were not sustainable. If Rome could be toppled by a few defeats, it would have already fallen to Hannibal or Pyrrhus.
"So, you mean you're taking responsibility for not stopping Crixus? No one would blame you for that?"
"Yes, but if I do nothing, I won't be able to forgive myself."
"Even if it means staining your sword with the blood of an old comrade?"
Spartacus's lips quivered. Despite his resolute decision, putting that determination into words was challenging. After taking a few deep breaths, he exhaled heavily and made his resolve clear.
"Looking at the blood of my comrades on my sword, I will remind myself of my current resolve. I will ensure that the sacrifices of the Roman gladiators were not in vain by changing their lives for the better."
"I'm truly grateful for your dedication. However, you won't be fighting directly against your old comrades. You will stay by my side, and I will observe the battle from a distance. I won't involve myself directly in the fight, so there's no need for you to feel pressured. Simply participating in this battle will not affect your standing in Rome."
Marcus had no intention of pitting Spartacus against his former allies. He believed it would be too harsh for Spartacus. What mattered was that Spartacus participated in the war. Marcus only needed Spartacus to deal with some rebels, not to confront Crixus or the gladiators from Capua directly.
However, Spartacus's resolve went beyond that.
He shook his head and said, "No. If you don't mind, please allow me to face Crixus."
"What?"
Marcus was taken aback, wondering if he had heard correctly. He had expected Spartacus to ask not to fight Crixus, not the opposite.
"You heard me right. If circumstances allow, I want to settle things with Crixus. If I go out on my own, he likely won't refuse."
"No, why go that far? Wasn't Crixus your friend and teacher?"
"That's exactly why I need to do this. To be honest, I don't want to see Crixus die at the hands of the Romans."
"Ah…"
Marcus was momentarily speechless. He understood the depth of Spartacus's feelings about this battle. If Spartacus's resolve was so firm, Marcus felt he had to accept it. Such determination was the mark of a true subordinate.
In this situation, Marcus had only one response.
"Do whatever your heart desires."
"Thank you."
Spartacus knelt and bowed his head. His eyes, bright with unwavering resolve, reflected his firm conviction.
Marcus shifted his gaze to the darkening sky. The Roman night was settling in, with winter nearing its end and the new year approaching.
All the players were ready to take the stage.
Continue reading up to chapter 30+ at Novelshub.org
https://novelshub.org/series/mythical-otherworld-food-truck
