Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

In an instant, the Roman soldiers, driven to the brink of despair and trapped in a desperate situation, felt their blood boil at these roars.

The war horn sounds! The war god roars!

Mars above! We're saved! We're saved!

Reinforcements! It's reinforcements!

Like trapped beasts whose will and energy had been worn down, the Roman soldiers were overjoyed at this moment. Their burning fighting spirit was ignited, as if they had drunk the strongest wine. A raging fire seemed to burn in their chests, and they had an impulse to rush forward and fight the enemy to the death, to shed every last drop of blood, and to die embracing the enemy.

At this moment, even the most cowardly person, under the surge of courage, becomes a fearless and berserker.

boom!Boom!

boom!Boom!

boom!Boom!

Even more terrifying was the rhythmic sound of shields being struck, coming from alleyways, behind broken walls, from houses, and from under the battlements. Roman soldiers fighting fiercely in various places either roared and gathered together or responded by striking their weapons.

The trickle of water quickly converged into a roaring sound like a mighty ocean.

The Roman soldiers, who were already in a losing position and were being divided and surrounded, launched a fierce counterattack.

When their javelins ran out, they thrust with their swords; when their swords broke, they smashed with their shields; and if even their shields shattered, they fought with all their might, hurling stones and biting with their teeth… These Roman soldiers, their eyes bloodshot, unleashed a steely fighting spirit, like bloodthirsty beasts unleashed from their cages, never giving up until their last drop of blood was shed.

Faced with such an opponent, even the undead army in the city, which was like a killing machine, was moved and shocked. Their offensive slowed down, as if a giant elephant stuck in the mud could not pull its legs out.

Boom boom boom!

"Woo...wow!"

At the same time, the changing rhythm of the bugle calls resounded across the fields, the earth trembled and shook, and visible dust rose from the low hills hundreds of meters away. The red torrent followed the trend, sweeping across the wilderness like a surging tide, and crashing into the central camp of the army outside the city.

Oh no! Roman reinforcements!

General Monnon's expression changed drastically as he looked incredulously at the Roman legion of at least 30,000 to 50,000 men.

Long before the three kings joined forces to launch their plan to kill the god-ancestor, they received a secret order to be ready to reinforce the border at any time.

Therefore, as soon as Romulus fell, the mighty Persian army of 100,000 men pressed on, capturing several cities in succession, until their offensive was halted when they encountered a fortress where the main force of the Tenth Legion was gathered.

Even so, the city of Seven Hills, which should have been in chaos, was able to stabilize the situation in just seven or eight days, mobilize forty to fifty thousand people, and send them to reinforce the city at an unimaginable speed.

Even more unbelievable is that they managed to get within a kilometer of their own army without being detected. How is that possible!

General Monnon's mind was buzzing, but he couldn't care less about that now. His priority was to stop the onrushing Romans!

hum!

However, as the Roman legions attacked, chilling incantations converged into a high-speed tremor, and one after another, scarlet magic circles appeared in the sky. Thousands of spell bullets rained down, blasting the flanks that had just organized a defense, causing men and horses to fall.

Chapter 58 Stay Calm, We Can Win

Boom boom boom!

Red and black spell bullets and magical beams bombarded the Persian army's flanks relentlessly. The Roman legions, advancing from higher ground, took advantage of the enemy's confusion and ruthlessly stabbed at their exposed weak points.

The fierce Roman legions, braving close-range magical artillery fire, charged fiercely into the Persian camp in a wedge formation, widening the gaps in the Persian lines and penetrating deep into their territory, aiming directly at Darius III, who sat atop his war elephant.

In an instant, the shortcomings of the ordinary Persian soldiers in terms of insufficient combat power and lack of fighting spirit were exposed. Chaos spread like ripples, quickly affecting nearly half of the army.

At this moment, on the low hill.

Samael gazed into the distance, his eyes, like the stars of a cross, piercing through the swirling sand and dust to take in the entire battlefield.

call……

As the ancient serpent's chest rose and fell slightly, it gradually exhaled a breath of stale air that had been suppressed since the start of the war, and it couldn't help but feel somewhat tired.

In order to quickly support the front line, Samael not only used up some of his recently recovered spatial powers but also used runes on a large scale to facilitate the army, enabling the 50,000-strong force to speed up its march, conceal its tracks, and arrive at the battlefield in just seven days.

He wasn't some rigid, dogmatic fool who clung to dogma. It's true that divine power shouldn't be used to slaughter ordinary people, but there's no rule against using it on one's own people.

Besides, he's just a military magician now, so who can possibly find him out?

However, all the hard work paid off, and it finally came to fruition.

Samael turned to look at Pompey beside him, who was calmly observing and conveying military orders to various units through horns, flag signals, and magical incantations. He nodded secretly, a hint of admiration and appreciation flashing in his eyes for the general.

He truly deserves his reputation as a veteran general; he was able to accurately seize the opportunity, exploit the enemy's weaknesses, and create the favorable situation we have today.

Of course, this requires the patience of a hunter and the strategic vision of a player.

In reality, thanks to Samael's underhanded maneuvering, the 50,000-strong army had already arrived at the outer perimeter of the battlefield the moment the city fell, witnessing the fall of the fortress defended by the Tenth Legion.

However, Pompey did not rush to send his troops into battle to relieve his allies.

Because once the fortress defenses collapsed, the fortress had lost its value for rescue.

When the enemy is overwhelmingly superior, squandering military resources too emotionally will not only be unhelpful, but will also jeopardize the only remaining resources available.

In a situation of great disadvantage, the first priority is to ensure that you do not make mistakes in order to have a chance to turn the tide.

So Pompey strictly disciplined his army while, with exceptional patience, like a seasoned hunter in the grass, carefully hiding and quietly observing the changes on the battlefield.

When Darius III threw his elite 10,000 Undead soldiers into the fortress to launch the assault, Pompey, who had been frowning the whole time, immediately relaxed.

Immediately, the veteran general sounded the war horn, inspiring the fighting spirit of the city's defenders. Once he confirmed that the Undead Army was tied down inside the city walls, he seized the opportunity and launched an attack.

The Persian Empire's regular army was of poor quality, and without the Immortals as a central and stable force, it would have been absolutely unable to withstand the close-range attacks of the Roman legions.

As Pompey had predicted, the Roman legions, adorned in gold and red, moved with the momentum of molten lava flowing from the ground, easily tearing open the flanks of the Persian army and penetrating deep into enemy territory, continuously expanding their gains.

"General, you are even more outstanding than I expected."

Samael's eyes showed approval, and he admired the general quite a bit. To be fair, he was a very good chess player.

"Your Highness, you flatter me."

Pompey gazed at the chaotic, spreading army, shook his head calmly, hesitated for a moment, and then earnestly explained in a low voice.

“If Darius I and Xerxes were leading the army, I might have abandoned this place and led the legion to the Ninth Province to regroup. But both of them went on an expedition to Athens and encountered Darius III leading the army here, so we still have a chance. He may be a competent monarch, but he is definitely not a wise commander.”

Upon hearing this frank answer, Samael seemed to be deep in thought.

The reason is actually very simple.

Not making mistakes only guarantees them a chance to turn things around.

But waiting for the opponent to make a mistake first is their real chance to win against the odds.

In futuristic gaming terms, to put it simply, it means, "Don't give up when you're behind, stay calm, and we can win; don't get cocky when you're ahead, stay calm, and the enemy will definitely lose."

Otherwise, a single overlooked detail could cause the previously favorable situation to collapse completely.

However, an opportunity is just an opportunity, and it is too early to judge the outcome.

Puff puff puff!

Just as the Roman legions were advancing with unstoppable momentum, amidst the chaos spreading through the Persian army, a contingent led by the old general Monnon drew their swords and shields, went against the tide, and mercilessly slaughtered all the fleeing deserters.

"By Mithra, Lord of Light, His Majesty is watching you. Stop now! Immediately!"

Point your swords at the enemy; turn your backs to your teammates!

Otherwise, you cowardly brats, when you get back, prepare to experience the ultimate punishment of being burned alive by holy flames!

Upon seeing this, Darius III slightly turned his head.

What kind of time is this? Still can't bring ourselves to do it! If we let them storm the main camp, we're all doomed!

Meng Nong noticed the monarch's strange behavior, suppressed the urge to curse, and with a ferocious expression, commanded his guards to raise their swords.

As the cold glint of blades flashed and fell, the stench of their comrades' blood, the sight of countless severed corpses, and the old general's furious roars finally roused the soldiers to their senses, giving them the courage to turn and face the charge of the Roman legions.

Although the chaotic ripples spreading towards the heart of the army were roughly contained, the hastily organized lines of the old general Meng Nong could not cover all aspects.

Under the skillful maneuvering and coordinated attacks of the Roman legions, the Persians, driven by fear and forced to turn their heads, were no match for the ferocious Roman soldiers.

Tsk tsk tsk!

Just as the Persian army's flank was about to crumble and be breached, the sound of arrows piercing the air filled the air, and a rain of arrows, like shooting stars, whistled down on the stalemate on the flank.

Puff puff puff!

Suddenly, the dull sound of tearing cloth filled the air as Persians and Romans were pierced by arrows and pinned to the ground, their crimson blood splattering and flowing freely.

"Defensive formation! Defensive formation!"

The centurions, the backbone of the Roman legions, shouted commands from the front lines. The soldiers, in units of a hundred, moved closer together, raised their shields, and covered each other to block the waves of arrows.

Even so, the force of these arrows pierced through metal and stone, and in no time, dozens of shields engraved with defensive divine patterns shattered. The densely packed Roman soldiers were shot down like wheat under a sickle.

Meteor Legion!

On the hilltop, Samael's gaze sharpened. This indiscriminate, all-encompassing attack had caused severe losses to the Roman legions since their charge.

Pompey immediately relayed the order, commanding his soldiers to charge through the rain of arrows and engage the Persians in close combat.

The Roman soldiers, with their superior skills, quickly changed formations and adjusted their tactics. Any cracked shields were replaced and rearranged in an orderly manner, and the troops advanced steadily despite the rain of arrows.

The soldiers trudged across the blood-soaked, slightly slippery ground and the corpses of Persians riddled with arrows, mercilessly finishing off the still-groaning wounded, and soon they were close to the heart of the Persian army.

Buzz buzz!

However, a dense chanting began, and magic circles coalesced one after another from the ground. One after another, bright yellow flame spirits swooped in, and the blazing heat waves caused many Roman soldiers who were covered in sparks to fall to the ground with bloody wounds, screaming in agony until they were reduced to charred remains.

Fire Spirit, Ifrit!

Chapter 59: I've already done all of this before!

Ifrit, derived from Arabic, is a spirit or demon in Islam and Arabic folklore.

Born from fire, it possesses the ability to manipulate flames, capable of burning and destroying life, as well as bringing warmth and light, embodying both evil and divine characteristics.

The genie residing in the lamp is a variant of Ifrit, possessing greater controllability.

These Ifrits summoned to the battlefield came from the magical lamps created by alchemists of the Persian Empire, each bearing a magical mark.

Boom boom boom!

These burning monsters, waving their limbs that sometimes came together and sometimes scattered in the flames, hurled blazing fireballs at the Roman legions advancing in shield formations on the open ground. Once they hit their targets, the fireballs exploded instantly.

Neither the magical runes on the shields, which offered limited magic resistance, nor the flesh and blood of the Roman soldiers could withstand the scorching heat of the flames.

In an instant, the Roman legions charging into the heart of the Persian army's territory were halted. One after another, the tightly guarded hundred-man squads were torn apart as if hit by artillery fire, and then fell one by one on their way to the front line when they were hit by a rain of arrows from all directions by the Meteor Legion.

Seeing the fire spirits hovering in mid-air, wreaking havoc and causing friendly soldiers to perish in the flames, Samael's cross-shaped eyes flashed as he waved his hand heavily forward.

Immediately, a series of creaking metallic scraping sounds came from the ranks atop the low hill, and dozens of bronze cannons engraved with intricate divine patterns were pushed out and arranged in front of the formation.

"10 o'clock! 870 meters away! Bronze Roar, three rounds fired simultaneously!"

Samael pinpointed the location of the sorcerers and spoke in a chilling tone. Soldiers on either side knelt down to adjust the gears and readings on the cannons, while the magicians, standing in neat rows, divided into three groups, poured magic into the cannons in turn.

Tsk tsk tsk!

As the intricate magic arrays lit up one by one, the divine patterns on the bronze cannon glowed, and the concentration of ether in the vicinity instantly increased several levels. Crimson beams of magic swept across the sky, like the scythe of death, tearing through the flank of the Persian army and landing near the figure in the white robe and hood, whose clothes were embroidered with flame patterns.

Boom boom boom!

Violent explosions echoed one after another, the earth trembled violently, dust billowed dozens of meters high, splattered blood stained the dust red, pink pieces of flesh and colorful organs flew everywhere, and severed limbs were scattered all over the ground.

Even the sorcerers were caught off guard, and dozens of them were killed or injured. Many fire spirits, having lost control, roared and twisted and dissipated on their own.

"Don't stop! Keep bombarding the magic markers as I told you!"

Samael looked at the Persian army, which had fallen into chaos again, nodded in satisfaction, patted the cannon barrel lightly, and with his back to the group of magicians, soldiers, and gunners, gave a deep reminder.

As the air hummed and vibrated once more, the familiar magic circle pattern took shape and focused one after another, and a touch of nostalgia and emotion couldn't help but appear in the ancient snake's eyes.

Although the Olympian gods were defeated and squeezed out of Greece by Mount Ares, they had ruled for thousands of years and still had some resources of their own.

For example, these magical bronze cannons, made from remnants of Atlantis's advanced technology, were created by the Trojans.

In the past, Zeus and Poseidon were vying for power. Poseidon and Apollo, who were also implicated, were banished to the mortal realm to undergo penance. By chance, they helped the Trojans build a city, creating a fortress that was almost impossible to break through from the outside.

Until the Trojan War, Troy still maintained the tradition of worshipping Apollo and Poseidon.

Although the war of the Titans left the Olympian gods with psychological trauma, the passage of time did not prevent Poseidon, who was slowly recovering his form in his divine core state at the time, from secretly giving advice to the Trojans, who were supported by the Olympian gods, and leaving behind some means to fight against Mount Olympus.

Unfortunately, for various reasons, Rome, which inherited the Trojan legacy, only possessed a few of the Atlantean bronze artifacts, and gradually lost the personnel and technology to replicate them.

These bronze cannons were basically all the supplies that the Divine Ancestor had stored in the warehouse.