After a brief pursuit, the Thracian cavalry managed to catch up with the cavalry led by Spartacus.
The pursuit unfolded along the main road, drawing closer to the ambush prepared by Nero's group.
"You can't escape, you bastards! I'm going to skin every last one of you alive!" a Thracian rider roared at Spartacus's group.
Spartacus shot him a cold glance, constantly whipping his horse in an attempt to widen the distance between them.
As both sides drew closer, the Thracian riders in the rear displayed cruel smiles, imagining the slaughter that was about to unfold.
At that very moment, a loud shout rang out from both sides of the road.
"Raise it!"
The Thracian cavalry coming from behind was bewildered.
Just then, a thick rope was raised, blocking the road.
The warhorses were unable to stop and began tripping over the rope, causing them to crash to the ground and slide forward for a long distance before finally coming to a halt.
The riders also felt an intense wave of dizziness and fell from their horses one after another.
Falling from a galloping warhorse is extremely deadly and could easily result in broken bones, especially because the Thracians wore heavy armor.
The Thracian riders screamed in pain from the fall.
Gripped by panic, the riders behind them tried to rein in their horses, but they could not control the frantic warhorses. Soon, they also tripped and fell, rolling across the ground one after another like pumpkins.
Only the last three riders managed to stop their horses in time. Watching in horror at what had happened, they then turned their horses around and fled.
Nero emerged from the dense forest and spat in fury.
"They were lucky to escape so quickly."
Seeing a rider lying on the ground with a broken leg, Nero drew his short sword, stepped forward, and ended his life.
Seeing this, Spartacus's gaze sharpened, and he stepped forward to seize the hand that was about to strike the second rider.
"What are you doing?" Nero asked, frowning.
"I think it's best not to kill them," Spartacus replied calmly.
"Why?" Nero said as he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
"They can't resist. Look, his leg is broken. He can't possibly take part in this battle under any circumstances," Spartacus replied seriously.
Through his clone, Septimus heard Spartacus's response and could not help but frown.
Septimus had no intention of causing trouble for Spartacus, but his defiance of Roman authority could cause him to repeat the original course of history.
"Just because of that?" Nero said calmly.
"Yes, we must not harm those who are defenseless," Spartacus said with a serious expression.
Nero looked at Spartacus coldly, and without giving him any opportunity, stepped forward and kicked him in the chest.
The kick to the chest sent the unsuspecting Spartacus flying two meters away.
Nero's short sword pierced the Thracian prisoner's neck, and blood traced an arc across the ground.
Nero looked coldly at both the Thracians and Spartacus and roared, "Spartacus, do you know where you are? You're in a war! A war to the death! They just tried to kill you, and now you want to let them go! Are you showing them mercy just because they're Thracians?"
With his powerful physique, Spartacus quickly recovered from the kick and, with a grim expression, looked at the corpse of the Thracian prisoner while remaining silent.
In truth, Nero was right. If they had not been Thracians, Spartacus would never have tried to stop Nero.
At that moment, the Thracian riders reacted and almost simultaneously positioned themselves behind Spartacus, staring coldly at Nero, expressing their support for their leader.
Nero looked coldly at the Thracians, and two clone legionaries gripped the hilts of their weapons.
Although the three clones possessed excellent combat skills and a strong determination to fight,
they were surrounded, and the three clones could not defeat the group of Thracians.
The situation quickly became tense.
Nero was not afraid of death.
Spartacus also did not want to worsen the situation and bring trouble upon his tribe.
The Romans held great influence and could easily wipe out his tribe.
"I'm willing to buy them," Spartacus said as he signaled to a Thracian warrior.
The Thracian warrior ran to Spartacus's horse, took out a bag of money, and threw it to Nero.
Nero looked coldly at Spartacus and finally nodded.
"After questioning their leaders, you can take them," Nero said expressionlessly.
Spartacus glared angrily at Nero and his guards.
The other Thracians looked at Spartacus, silently asking whether they should kill the Romans.
Finally, with a sigh, Spartacus shook his head. With so many of them already out of action, if everyone else remained unharmed and only Nero and his guards ended up dead, it would be strange if the Romans did not become suspicious.
"No problem." Spartacus agreed completely.
The wounded Thracian riders looked at Spartacus with gratitude. If it had not been for him, they all probably would have died at Nero's hands.
The Thracian prisoners answered all of Nero's questions, and in the end, they took away the three cavalry prisoners.
"I'm not going to report what happened today, but you'd better not do it again. In the army, disobeying orders can cost you your life," Nero said with a serious expression.
Spartacus looked at Nero indifferently.
Nero looked coldly at Spartacus.
Septimus did not plan to give Spartacus any preferential treatment.
Everyone is responsible for their own decisions.
---
In Nicaea, a fierce siege was underway, with siege engines, ladders, and towers constantly advancing toward the city's walls, but the defenders of Nicaea managed to destroy the siege engines after losing many lives.
An elderly man wearing a purple robe and with white hair watched everything from a distance alongside a group of generals. Although he was very old, he appeared full of vigor, yet his face reflected extreme coldness.
He was none other than Mithridates VI, King of Pontus, who had devoted his life to warfare. He was now over sixty years old, an age considered exceptionally old in antiquity.
Although he was very elderly, he still refused to remain idle and personally led a great army to reconquer Asia. He was deeply dissatisfied with everything unfolding before his eyes.