Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

puff!

Under the pressure of several large shields, an undead soldier had his right arm severed and his abdomen ripped open, but he immediately raised his left hand to snatch a deformed javelin, dragging his protruding intestines as he rammed into it, causing the Roman squad's formation to break apart.

Chi Chi!

In an instant, the spear pierced through the gaps in the shields, piercing through both Roman soldiers.

The small-scale battle only came to a complete end when the Roman soldiers, having regained their senses, swarmed forward, dismembered the immortal soldier, and brutally mutilated him.

But before the squad could celebrate for long, dozens of cavalrymen broke through the inner encirclement and attacked from the side. They swept past, their gleaming blades flashing as heads fell to the ground, their headless corpses spurting blood from their necks and convulsing as they collapsed.

The squad, led by three undead soldiers, was struck by dozens of cursed bullets before they could break through the third encirclement. In the midst of the violent explosions, both men and horses were annihilated.

Within the narrow ravine, slaughter was a constant occurrence, with severed limbs scattered everywhere and corpses piled upon each other, the yellowish-brown soil and rocks stained with patches of red.

However, as time passed, fewer and fewer of the immortals were able to rise again and fight back, while the Roman legions, with their combined forces, maintained their well-organized structure in their encirclement and attack.

Seeing that the number of the Undead Army had been reduced to a thousand, even Pompey, who was usually calm and serious, couldn't help but be overjoyed.

But before the Roman legions could completely wipe out the remnants, thunderous tremors resounded around the valley, and billowing dust rose into the sky.

The scouts that had been sent out earlier also used magical resonance to quickly transmit military intelligence.

To the due east, there are 50,000 Persian troops, with several thousand spellcasters among them!

In the southeast, 60,000 Persian troops, including well-organized elephant corps, are assembled!

Upon hearing this, Pompey's heart clenched and his expression froze.

The Persians have come after all...

Chapter Sixty-Four: Numb, numb from winning... my foot! (4/4)

"Stay calm! It will take some time to complete the encirclement. What's coming is indeed part of the Persian army. We have time to react!"

Samael stepped forward and patted Pompey on the shoulder. His solemn tone and calm demeanor impressed the military commander, allowing him to methodically adjust his troops and respond.

After a fierce battle, the Roman legions, with the cooperation of various troop types, wiped out more than 10,000 Persian cavalry and more than 4000 Immortals at the cost of nearly 20,000 casualties, managing to wear down the Persian forces to a one-to-one ratio.

At this moment, the Roman legion numbered no more than 40,000. The remaining thousand or so Undead soldiers had already rallied together in the chaos and were relying on the narrow terrain of the valley to defend themselves, making them a tough nut to crack.

If this drags on any longer, and the 110,000 to 120,000 reinforcements who have surrounded us get up and attack from both sides, then things will get really bad.

After receiving messages from scouts and repeatedly confirming the enemy's whereabouts and the surrounding situation, Pompey conceived a bold idea.

Boom boom boom!

As the magic mines laid along the southeastern line were stepped on and exploded one after another, the already howling winds in the wilderness stirred up a dust storm, turning everything into a gray haze. Without the aid of magic, it was even to the point that people could not see anything.

However, along with the fierce storm came not only sand and gravel, but also squads of Roman soldiers with reddened skin, bulging muscles, and boiling blood, like tigers among sheep!

The 60,000-strong Persian army immediately clashed head-on with the 30,000 Roman soldiers who were charging forward.

Due to their rapid march, the Persian army inevitably became disorganized and stretched out, and the small sandstorm that suddenly arose from the ground further complicated the situation.

Even after the Roman legions, huddled together in formation, surged upstream and scattered nearly half of the Persian army at the front, these regular soldiers, still disoriented from the sandstorm, were still in a daze.

By the time they realized what was happening, the Roman legions, with their skillful and superior military formations, had already cut through the heart of the Persian army like butter, crushing their already limited will to resist.

In an instant, amidst the swirling sandstorm, shouts of battle filled the air, and Romans appeared out of nowhere. The Persian regular army, its command severed and its formation broken, scattered and fled with practiced ease, with nearly ten thousand dying from infighting or being trampled to death.

If the Persians hadn't suddenly remembered to organize their tough-skinned elephant soldiers, who lay down and formed a three-layered wall of flesh and blood, along with chariots, baggage, and other supplies piled up and linked together to block the gaps for defense, even their last 20,000-plus men would probably have been fleeing aimlessly into the windswept wilderness.

However, when the Roman legions encountered such a force that had built fortifications and formed battle lines on the spot, they did not engage in battle. Instead, they retreated immediately after a brief encounter, swiftly sweeping away the scattered small groups of Persian defeated soldiers nearby, before disappearing into the gradually subsiding sandstorm.

The remaining 20,000-plus Persian soldiers looked at the desolate wasteland littered with corpses, the scattered supplies, and the city walls full of debris that would take at least half an hour to move. They looked at each other in bewilderment, standing there in disarray in the wind.

Two hours later, the 50,000-strong Persian army, which was more than 20 miles away, was also intercepted by the Roman legions in the sandstorm.

However, due to the Persian spellcaster maintaining a relatively good magical vision, the success of this raid was only half that of the last one.

Even so, the Roman legions, with their superior quality compared to the Persian regular army, braved the magical bombardment, quickly closed the distance, and completed their breakthrough and infiltration. After a series of thunderous and aggressive attacks, the Roman legions, under the cover of their own magicians, triumphantly departed.

Once the Persians recovered, they hastily gathered their troops, only to be shocked to find that they had only a little over 20,000 men left when they took their head.

In other words, just now, the army suffered heavy losses, with nearly half of its troops killed and routed!

A rough estimate suggests that the Romans left behind only about two thousand dead soldiers in both locations, and even if the two locations are combined, the enemy's losses would not exceed five thousand.

In contrast, the two Persian armies, one with 40,000 casualties and the other with 20,000, had already shrunk by more than half before they even joined forces.

Even worse, even if they could urgently assemble their current 40,000 troops and head to the valley to join the remaining thousand or so Immortals, they would be powerless against the 30,000-plus Roman legions, and might even be wiped out.

The two commanders-in-chief were sweating profusely, their necks felt cold, and they felt as if their heads, which were resting on their necks, were about to fall off. In their fear, they stood still for a moment, hesitant to make any decisions about the march below.

Faced with this group of audacious Romans, the two pale-faced Persian generals wanted to ask a question.

How dare you?!

"Yes, how dare you?" Samael also wanted to know the answer to this question.

As Pompey led his army back, he looked at the six or seven hundred black-clad undead soldiers who had charged out of the valley, and the hundreds of Roman soldiers who were crawling up from the piles of corpses and the sea of ​​blood and approaching him. His lips were tightly pressed together, and his eyes were heavy with emotion.

Before he led the army away, he left behind 30 hundred-man squads, but now they can't even muster three hundred-man squads.

After a moment of silence, Pompey ordered his men to gather the wounded soldiers while calming himself down and explaining the reason to the gods beside him.

According to the scouts' reports, the two Persian armies that had come to encircle them were about 20 to 30 miles apart and could not see or support each other. Moreover, based on their marching patterns and the appearance of the troops, it could be basically determined that these were just regular troops and that the Undead were not mixed in.

Moreover, the scouts searched the southeastern border for thirty or forty miles without finding any trace of other Persian armies.

When Pompey recalled the strategy they had previously discussed—the gecko severing its tail, leaving a portion of the army to hold off the Undead pursuers, and ensuring the main force's retreat—he suddenly had a bold idea.

Even if a gecko loses its tail, its main body remains intact, allowing it to still climb walls, squeeze through crevices, and devour flies and insects.

Therefore, he decisively left three thousand men to desperately block the undead army, concentrated more than thirty thousand superior troops, drained the magicians and priests, and empowered the soldiers with divine spells and magic. Then, under the cover of the sandstorm, he played a brilliant trick of defeating them one by one.

Such a risky tactic yielded astonishing results: not only did they wipe out 20,000 cavalrymen who had concealed 5000 immortals, but they also crippled two Persian encirclement forces.

A rough estimate suggests that the Persian army suffered losses of 100,000 men in just two days.

Now that Pompey has eliminated the threats on both flanks, the initiative has returned to the Roman legions, whether they fight or retreat.

Now, they can calmly clean up the battlefield, retreat to the Ninth Army's base, take a nice hot bath, have a sumptuous dinner, and tell their relatives, friends, and comrades about this thrilling and outstanding battle.

Samael wholeheartedly agreed with Pompey's decision to withdraw his troops.

While it is true that the Persians suffered over 100,000 casualties, the 50,000 reinforcements drawn from the vicinity of the royal court, along with the nearly 20,000-strong Tenth Legion, also suffered heavy losses, with only half remaining.

Moreover, the priests and magicians, who had been exploited, were basically exhausted. The Roman legions, who had experienced a series of battles, were pale and unsteady on their feet as the magic and divine power dissipated. They were only able to hold on by sheer willpower.

Withdrawing troops for rest and reorganization in preparation for another battle is absolutely the wisest choice.

However, as the legion collected the belongings of their fallen comrades and slowly withdrew from the valley area, Samael still had a question in his mind.

Where did the remaining 100,000-plus Persian troops and the most elite Immortals go?

Just as the ancient serpent was puzzled, the earth shook violently again, and countless figures surged forth like a black tide.

A white bull... a spear entwined with serpents and branches... that is the banner of the Roman Tenth Legion!

Pompey and Samael looked at the battle flag that was raised high and felt relieved, but as they got closer, Samael's cross-shaped pupils, which he had opened subconsciously, contracted sharply and his expression changed drastically.

Something's wrong! The edges are curled, it's torn, and there's still blood on it...

This is—the spoils of war!

The Tenth Legion is finished...

At this moment, Samael and Pompey, who had reached the same conclusion, looked at each other and smiled bitterly, overwhelmed by a strong sense of absurdity and frustration.

Now, it's obvious what those hundreds of thousands of Persian troops were up to.

Meanwhile, the Roman legions, having rested and prepared, first annihilated 20,000 Persian cavalry, then seized the opportunity to defeat them one by one, crippling two reinforcements and collapsing three routes in one, achieving a great victory.

Meanwhile, the Persian army split up and circled around to stealthily reach their base. With overwhelming superiority, they advanced straight ahead and removed the 10th Legion from their vantage point.

In a sense, both sides have won, and they've won to the point of exhaustion.

But the results were not quite what we expected.

Here, the Roman legions lost their fortress as a buffer, and the 30,000 soldiers who were still resting had no way to retreat and were in a difficult situation.

Over there, the Persian army's grand strategy of outflanking and encircling on multiple fronts collapsed on three fronts, and the once inescapable net became vulnerable on all sides.

This back-and-forth showdown has made the battlefield situation extremely delicate.

However, as Samael and Pompey looked at the 30,000 soldiers who were staggering and about to collapse, their faces darkened even more.

In contrast, the Persians held an absolute advantage and had too much room for error; their troubles were far more pressing.

The Roman legions were no longer able to withstand another major battle, especially with the formidable weapon of nearly half an Undead army on the other side.

This is a problem, a real hassle...

Samael tightened his grip on the Spear of Founding the Nation, his gaze dark and his expression shifting.

Chapter Sixty-Five: Ares' Daughters

"The magic bombardment is coming!"

As the sky and earth changed color, Samael keenly sensed that the surging and trembling ether was converging on their heads from all directions, and immediately shouted a warning.

"Prepare the tortoise formation! Quickly!"

Pompey gritted his teeth and made a difficult decision in this critical moment.

More than 30,000 people relied on the terrain of the valley, stayed close to both sides, and took emergency evasive action. They raised their shields and built an impenetrable shield wall on all sides and above. The divine patterns on the shields were intertwined and resonated with each other, forming a defensive barrier that emitted a faint light.

Bang bang bang!

The spell bullets, as dense as a meteor shower, slammed into the ground one after another with sharp, piercing sounds, accompanied by muffled thunderclaps. The ground trembled violently, and large clouds of dust billowed up in the gullies.

Boom!

As a rock collapsed, Pompey lost his footing and nearly fell through the defensive barrier built by several magicians accompanying the army, tumbling out of the circle.

Snapped!

Samael reacted quickly, extending his arm to pull the commander back, his brow furrowing slightly as he did so.

Pompey looked grateful, pounded his chest heavily, and then respectfully returned to his original position to continue directing the work.

As the dust from the explosion gradually settled, the commander took in the scene within the ravine, his eyes filled with gloom as he gazed at the several square formations that had been smashed into small, empty spaces.

The tortoise formation is the best defensive formation in group combat. When the team is at its peak, it can withstand most attacks, except for large-scale ritual incantations, high-level divine spells, and catapult bombardments. It can even defend against a volley of fire from the meteor legion.

However, after a series of battles, the legion's combat capabilities have declined sharply. Now, it is even struggling to deal with the arcane spells of the sorcerers, and it has truly reached its limit.

The tortoise formation, used for on-the-spot defense, was not a good choice for seasoned Roman generals.

This often means that they have lost the initiative and have completely abandoned mobility in order to delay the collapse of the legion.

Therefore, according to the experience circulating in the army, in more than 80% of the battles where the tortoise formation was deployed, the enemy lost.

"Your Highness, I will cover the rear and do everything I can to hold off the Persians. Please lead the elite of your legion to the interior to rest and reorganize your lines!"

After a moment's thought, Pompey made a solemn plea.

"It's pointless, let's just hold on."

"How could that be! Even if we lose the Ninth and Tenth Legions, we still have the three provinces protecting the capital! And the Seven Hills! War is not about the gain or loss of a single city or territory. As long as these vital elements remain, we still have a chance, and the legacy of Rome will not be broken!"

"Execute this order."

"Yes...yes..."

Samael calmly rejected Pompey's proposal, his serpentine eyes gazing down with a chilling tone that sent a shiver down the commander's spine and made his body stiffen.

Faced with the overwhelming divine might, Commander Pompey lowered his head, which had been filled with fervor, and responded in a hoarse voice.

After spending seven or eight days together, he almost forgot that he was not facing a colleague with whom he could speak freely and on equal footing, but a god who was high above him.

Faced with such a perilous situation, the commander's expression froze, his mind heavy, and he turned to look at the deity beside him.

Samael gazed at the assembled Persian army, his fingers first tightening on the spear that had been used to build the nation, then slowly relaxing.

The deity before us has repeated this action many times since the start of the war.

So, we were just bait...

A thunderbolt struck Pompey's mind, and he suddenly realized the truth. He looked at himself and the 30,000 remaining soldiers in the ravine with a touch of self-mockery.

Previously, this role was played by the Ninth and Tenth Legions and the two lines of defense they were on.