I rode and slashed unparalleled in the Three Kingdoms

Chapter 1174 Just in time
"They've broken in! The Han army has broken in!"

In the snowy night, the Roman legions' carefully constructed defensive line quickly crumbled under the Han army's long-awaited and fierce attack.

Quintus Flaccus, commander of the left flank, attempted to hold out in a series of defensive maneuvers from his pre-established positions, buying time for the main army to retreat. However, he faced elite Han cavalry led by Zhao Yun. These cavalrymen were not only well-equipped but also trained for snowy mountain warfare. Zhao Yun led the charge, his white horse and silver spear flashing like a ghost in the swirling snowflakes, leading his cavalry to maneuver and infiltrate along the mountain ridges, repeatedly breaking into the flanks and rear of the Roman rearguard.

"Zhao Zilong of Changshan is here! Roman barbarians, surrender now!" Zhao Yun's roar, accompanied by the cold glint of his Dragon Gallant Silver Spear, sent Roman soldiers slicing through the air like wheat being harvested. The defensive phalanxes that the Roman legions attempted to form were utterly unable to be maintained under the agile, segmented attacks of the Han cavalry. Even more fatal was the deployment of the Han army's small "whirlwind cannons" to the front lines. Although their range was inferior to the heavy artillery fixed to the shore or ships, the shrapnel and incendiary shells they fired inflicted devastating damage on the dense Roman formation at close range.

Quintus's command post was quickly breached by Zhao Yun's elite cavalry. The veteran general attempted to organize a counterattack in the chaos, but Zhao Yun pierced his shoulder with a spear, causing him to fall from his horse. He would have died on the spot if his personal guards hadn't risked their lives to save him. With their commander seriously wounded, the left flank rearguard was left leaderless. Seeing the Han army's relentless offensive and their allies retreating from the rear, the soldiers' will to resist collapsed instantly. They abandoned their heavy shields and javelins and joined the fleeing tide.

The right flank was in a similarly dire situation. Gaius Macrinus was brave but lacked strategy. While attempting to break through to the northeast, he ran headlong into the defensive positions set up by Gao Shun's "Trap Camp." The "Trap Camp's" heavily armored infantry formed a solid defensive line, which, combined with the cavalry attacks from Xiahou Dun and Cao Ren on both flanks, pinned Macrinus's army firmly in the valley.

"Immovable as a mountain, swift as fire!" Under Gao Shun's cold command, the soldiers of the Trapped Camp stood like rocks, using their spears and ring-pommel swords to form a deathly jungle, repelling the Roman legion's charges time and again. When the Romans' morale faltered and their formation crumbled, Xiahou Dun's cavalry swept out from the flanks like a raging fire, hacking and slashing wildly. Macrinus himself lost a finger in a clash with Xiahou Dun and retreated in disarray.

Meanwhile, Cao Cao personally led his main force straight towards Emperor Severus's central army. Jia Xu had already predicted that the Roman emperor was the core of the retreat; as long as the central army could be routed, and Severus captured or severely wounded, the entire Roman army would collapse without a fight.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, turning the world into a vast expanse of white, with visibility extremely low. While this made the Han army's pursuit more difficult, it also exacerbated the chaos among the Romans. Orders to retreat were distorted in the panic; legions and battalions lost contact, officers couldn't find their soldiers, and soldiers couldn't find their units. Heavy equipment was abandoned in the snow, and the frozen and starving Roman soldiers even turned on each other for a few rations. The once orderly Roman legions had now completely degenerated into a desperate rout.

Emperor Severus, under the desperate protection of his royal guards, fled westward in disarray along the road to Metropol. Hearing the increasingly close shouts of the Han army and the desperate cries of his own soldiers behind him, the once ambitious emperor felt his heart breaking. Protinus followed closely behind, his armor stained with mud, snow, and blood, his face etched with exhaustion and despair.

"Your Majesty! The road ahead... the road ahead is blocked by snow!" The news brought by the scouts was even worse.

As if things weren't bad enough, a sudden heavy snowfall blocked the main route to Metropol. Severus's central army was forced to change course, taking a more treacherous mountain path and retreating towards the northern Black Sea coast.

Their movement was greatly slowed down as a result, but fortunately, the snowstorm did not discriminate between friend and foe, and it also affected Cao Cao's pursuit.

The third day of the first month of the sixth year of the Kaiyuan era.

The snow had just stopped in Sinop.

When Emperor Severus led his remaining troops and looked at the walls of this ancient city, his eyes showed little joy at surviving a calamity, but rather a deep sorrow.

From the Sald Valley to Sinop, this short, ten-day journey of desperate escape was like a trek through hell. Soldiers abandoned their armor and weapons, and generals were either killed or surrendered. The bitter cold, hunger, relentless pursuit and harassment by the Han cavalry, and the chaos and suicides among the routed soldiers had broken the backbone of his great army. Looking around, of the fifteen elite legions and two hundred thousand troops, the total number who had accompanied him to this Black Sea port was probably less than twenty thousand. Even his most trusted Imperial Guard was now reduced to a mere thousand or so, all wounded, dejected, and their morale utterly low.

Looking at the defeated army, the once invincible Augustus of Rome could no longer suppress the sorrow and pain in his heart, and tears streamed down his face.

"Two hundred thousand troops, my two hundred thousand troops!"

"Your Majesty, please take care!" The commander of the Praetorian Guard, Protinus, supported the emperor, who was almost unsteady on his feet, and comforted him in a hoarse voice, "Victory and defeat are common occurrences in war. The Han people are cunning and rely on demonic weapons; it is not their fault in battle! As long as Your Majesty returns safely to Rome, relying on the still strong foundations in Italy, Gaul, and Britain, you can regroup and perhaps one day make a comeback!"

As he spoke, he pointed to several Roman warships anchored in the harbor, the last remaining naval force of the Sinop naval base and their only hope of escape:

"Your Majesty, we cannot linger here. The Han people may pursue us at any moment. The most urgent task is to board the ship as soon as possible and travel by sea to the province of Mercia! Once we are back in Europe, back among our loyal legions, we can stabilize our position and devise a plan for the future!"

Severus gazed at the gray sea, torn between his conscience and his will. Abandoning his remaining troops and fleeing alone by ship would be a profound disgrace. But Protina was right: he was the emperor of Rome, and as long as he lived, Rome still had hope. If he were captured or killed in battle, the empire could very well crumble instantly, plunging into an abyss of no return.

“…Alright.” Severus managed to utter two words with difficulty, as if he had used up all his strength. “Order…to gather all the ships, and take as many troops as possible…as for those that cannot be taken…let them retreat to the north or inland, and find an opportunity…find an opportunity to return to their units.”

The order was given, and chaos erupted in the port. The remaining Roman soldiers scrambled towards the few remaining warships, and order nearly collapsed. The shouts of officers, the quarrels of soldiers, and the groans of the wounded mingled together, creating a tragic elegy for the empire's demise.

However, just as Severus, surrounded by Protina and the last of his loyal guards, was about to step onto the gangplank of the largest pentagonal warship—

Woo——! ! !
A long, deep, yet soul-piercing horn sound came from the distant sea!
Everyone involuntarily stopped what they were doing and looked in horror toward the direction from which the horn was coming.

At the horizon where the sea meets the sky, several dark dots were rapidly growing larger. At first, they were just sails, but as they drew closer, the long hull, the towering mast, and the dazzling crimson and gold dragon flag fluttering in the wind atop the mast clearly identified the newcomers.

Su Yao has arrived.

The conquerors from the East have arrived.

(End of this chapter)