Under the command of Spartacus, the rebel army exerted all its strength, with one team after another launching relentless attacks. The battle raged from dawn until dusk, but countless soldiers perished beneath the city walls without ever breaching the parapet...
"Leader Maximus!" A messenger came galloping, loudly announcing, "Spartacus orders the attack to cease, retreat back to camp!"
Maximus had been waiting for this order and immediately told the bugler, "Sound the retreat horn quickly!"
"Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo!..." The urgent sound of the copper horn rang out.
Maximus breathed a sigh of relief as Quintus’s voice reached his ears: "The order to retreat should have been given long ago. The morale of the Metapontum people is high, and they can keep receiving reinforcements from other towns. Even if we attack several more times, we won’t be able to conquer it."
Maximus detected the dissatisfaction in his words, although he had not supported the decision to attack Metapontum earlier. Still, he defended himself, saying, "We didn’t expect these few southern towns to unite and support Metapontum."
"These southerners, though timid and unwilling to fight in the open field, can still put up a fight with the tall city walls as their shield."
As a former Roman, Quintus held contempt for the Greeks of Southern Italy. Stroking his chin, he added, "I think it must have been Metapontum’s administrative officer who, after killing Enomai, foresaw our potential revenge and persuaded other towns to support them, and prepared their defenses well. With our current strength, it’s impossible to conquer it, and there’s no need to waste our forces here; it’s best to retreat early."
"Yes, you are right." Maximus stopped arguing and changed the topic: "However, this time, even if we didn’t take Metapontum, our Free Italy troops have gained significant training. At first, as you saw, over twenty thousand men were in chaos. Especially the forces of the leaders who joined later, unfamiliar with the orders, they attacked or retreated at will...
Now it’s much better; within just over ten days, all soldiers have been merged into a team, obeying commands during the siege, advancing and retreating smoothly. Spartacus has put in tremendous effort."
"In this regard, there is some benefit to us, but despite our full-scale assault, we still couldn’t take Metapontum City, and many soldiers were killed or wounded. It might have a significant impact on morale!" Quintus reminded him.
Maximus remained silent as he watched the retreating troops in front of him: Leading the way were Oluus and Pequot, followed by most soldiers who were once Enomai’s subordinates, and just joined Maximus’s army with Pequot not long ago. Therefore, Maximus didn’t bring in any more troops from Sarabia but temporarily mixed the five hundred guards with these over two thousand former Erromyi soldiers, led by Oluus and Pequot respectively, as the siege force. Some new soldiers were determined to avenge Enomai, openly dissatisfied with the initial probing attacks. But now, they were battered and bleeding, supporting each other like beaten dogs, with no trace of arrogance left.
Perhaps the blow to their morale from the failed siege is beneficial to me... Maximus thought to himself, immediately adopting a solemn expression, riding forward, and loudly saying, "Brothers, although we failed to take the city this time, among all the siege forces, you fought the longest and were the bravest, almost reaching the parapet. I am proud of you all!"
Maximus paused for a moment, seeing the soldiers gradually lift their heads, their eyes focusing on him. He continued with concern in his voice, "Now you must be tired and thirsty. I’ve already had ample food and hot soup prepared at the camp! I also had the Medical Team prepare enough herbs, waiting outside the camp. Every injured brother will receive excellent care and treatment!... Let’s hurry back to camp, once we return, everything will be fine!"
The retreating soldiers looked at Maximus as he vigorously waved his arms, and, hearing his heartfelt words, seemed to gain some strength in their weary bodies.
At this moment, they saw Maximus jump down from his horse, quickly walking to a pair of wounded soldiers supporting each other, loudly saying, "You’re injured yourself, how can you hold your comrade! Let me help!"
Saying that, he supported a wounded soldier’s body, hoisting his arm onto his shoulder, walking slowly forward.
The numerous soldiers were profoundly moved by this scene, knowing that as the rebel army rapidly grew, the status and prestige of the leaders also increased rapidly. Even Spartacus no longer mingled with ordinary soldiers as he did at the beginning of the uprising, let alone the somewhat arrogant Cross and Enomai. Yet this young leader still showed such concern for ordinary soldiers...
"That sounds like a Greek name."
"I’m from Poseidon, and joined the ranks when Leader Enomai’s army passed by."
"You haven’t been with our Free Italy for long, but I see the courage you showed during the siege is no less than that of veteran soldiers!"
Unknowingly, the soldiers all followed behind Maximus, listening to the conversation between the two. One soldier couldn’t help but shout, "Leader, I also joined the ranks at Poseidon!"
"Oh, your injuries are also substantial, it seems you were valiant in battle too!"
"Leader, I’m from Croton. Upon hearing the fame of Free Italy, I rushed to Turi to join the ranks."
"Oh, it seems that even in the southernmost part of Great Greece, there are warriors daring to resist Rome and pursue freedom!"
"Leader Maximus, I’m a gladiator from Capua."
"I remember you, Kumo, the cheetah from Mauritania..."
Pequot watched as Maximus was surrounded, chatting and laughing with the soldiers, his expression complex and changeable.
..............................
Back at the camp, Maximus settled the troops, and the post-battle statistics were out: over 750 casualties.
For the Maximus Army, with just over 2500 troops here, this was already a significant blow.
But Maximus didn’t take it to heart. After dinner, he received a notice to rush to Spartacus’s camp for a military meeting.
After each siege battle, Spartacus would convene the leaders to discuss, summarize experiences and improve siege methods, which was also the main reason why he could consolidate the team and enhance combat effectiveness so quickly.
As he entered the tent, all the other leaders were already there. Maximus saw that everyone’s faces looked a bit grim and thought it was because they were upset about the losses from the failed siege today. But then Spartacus looked at him and said solemnly, "We just received word from a messenger sent by Cross—the Roman Army is coming!"
Despite being mentally prepared for the arrival of the Roman Army, hearing this now, Maximus’s heart couldn’t help but thump rapidly. He hurriedly asked, "How many are in the Roman Army? Where are they?"
"According to the messenger, Cross’s cavalry captured a southbound caravan and learned from the merchants that the Roman Governor, Publius Crassus, is leading an army of about forty to fifty thousand, which has already passed Campania and is heading south along Ania Avenue," Hamilcar reported.
"Forty to fifty thousand?!" Maximus’s heart pounded even more intensively. Although he knew from historical records in his previous life that the rebel army eventually repelled the Roman attack, being part of it was still nerve-wracking. Who knows if things might change in this lifetime.