Chapter 1: The Death of Cyrus the Younger (Part 1)

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"The king's great army is coming! The king's great army is coming!!" A reconnaissance cavalryman raced towards them, shouting repeatedly in Persian and Greek.

The soldiers, who were preparing to rest, became restless.

"Patikias, is what you're saying true? Is Artaxerxes really coming?!" Cyrus the Younger couldn't contain his excitement as he asked from atop his horse.

"Yes, Your Highness. Artaxerxes is coming! Artagerces is also coming! And that... damned Tissaphernes is coming too!!" Patikias gasped for breath, his voice hoarse.

"Excellent, my friend! Excellent! He has finally come!" Cyrus the Younger exclaimed eagerly as he dismounted, while his attendant helped him put on his armor. He shouted to his adjutant, Aliroos, "Inform the entire army to prepare for battle!"

"Yes, Your Highness!" Aliroos quickly called for a messenger, saying, "Notify the Greeks immediately to form up swiftly on our right flank! Prepare for battle!"

The messenger swiftly rode off.

Aliroos called upon the Persian commanders. Cyrus the Younger ordered them to lead their soldiers and form up on his left flank, while he himself led eight hundred cavalry in the center.

Cautious Artapates asked, "How many enemies are there?"

"Approximately sixty thousand... or maybe eighty thousand..." Patikias recalled the scene he had witnessed, a tinge of fear appearing on his face.

"So many people!!" The attendants exclaimed, their faces showing fear.

"Haha! Are you afraid, my friend?" Cyrus the Younger stepped forward and gave Patikias a strong hug, paying no mind to his dusty and sweaty body. Then, he mounted his horse, shouting to those around him, "Are you afraid?!"

Cyrus the Younger's followers and guards, of course, all proclaimed their bravery.

"Even if Artaxerxes has more soldiers, he is still that timid Artaxerxes! Don't forget, a little hunting dog can scare the piss out of him!" Cyrus the Younger's vulgar words elicited laughter from the surrounding crowd.

"And I have you all! And my army! Together, we defeated mighty Athens! The Athens that repeatedly defeated our Persia!" Cyrus the Younger's gaze swept over each person, and they straightened their chests.

"We also have brave Greeks! They fight shoulder to shoulder with us!" Cyrus the Younger looked towards the right, where the Greek heavy infantry began to slowly form up. Seeing this, he felt confident, saying, "We are unstoppable! We are invincible!"

"Victory!" Artapates shouted first, and then everyone eagerly joined in, shouting, "Victory!"

In the face of the soaring morale, Cyrus the Younger raised his right hand high. "Friends! Warriors! After this victory, I swear to the supreme god Mazda that I will do my utmost to repay your friendship and sacrifices!"

"Cyrus, THE GREAT!!" Someone shouted, and immediately, like a raging flood, the shouts surged.

...

"Hey, Matonis. Any updates?" Devesh couldn't help but pat the shoulder of the warrior in front of him.

"How many times have you asked already? Nothing! Nothing!" Matonis wiped the sweat-soaked neck with his free left hand and irritably exclaimed, "Why haven't the enemies arrived? The sun is already high in the sky! If we wait any longer, I'll be roasted by its flames!"

"Matonis, even if your flesh is cooked, I don't want to smell it. These days, I feel like vomiting from eating meat." Another warrior next to them spoke with a slick tongue, causing the soldiers to burst into laughter.

"Shut up! Oliverus, you lecherous fellow, if you want me to shove your hand into your mouth and let you taste the flavor of your own flesh, then keep talking!" Matonis swung his strong arms and threatened fiercely.

"Oh no, I'm so scared!" Oliverus pretended to be frightened, eliciting another round of laughter from everyone.

"Stand properly and stop fooling around! Menon is here!" Just as Helos finished speaking, a sharp voice resounded, "You little brats, do you think this is your family's banquet hall?"

A soldier with a well-proportioned figure, a red plume adorning his helmet, stood in front of the formation and pointed at them, scolding, "This is the battlefield! If you don't give it your all, then Hades would be delighted to pay you a visit!"

"Foul-mouthed Menon!" someone shouted from the ranks.

"Who said that?! Show yourself!!!" The crowd suppressed their laughter and gleefully watched Menon stomping his feet and shouting angrily.

At that moment, someone loudly exclaimed, "Look ahead!!!"

The soldiers immediately fixed their gaze forward. Soon, the smiles on their faces were quickly replaced by fear.

A thick cloud of smoke rose up at the edge of their vision, enveloping the hills, trees, and houses in a hazy gray.

After a while, a thin black line emerged from the smoke, extending to both sides and gradually thickening...

After a while, when the soldiers could barely make out the outlines of the enemy, countless flashes of light began to dazzle their eyes in the radiant sunlight.

Armor, spears, shields... The cold gleam emitted seemed boundless, like the Milky Way in the night sky. The sounds of footsteps, shouts, and horse neighs merged into a rolling roar, causing even the earth to tremble, let alone the legs of men.

Just as Oliverus felt like he was about to fall, he heard Helos shout, "Prepare for battle!"

"Prepare for battle!"

"Prepare for battle!"

The Greek mercenaries quickly donned their helmets, unhooked the round shields from their left shoulders, and gripped their spears, pounding their shields.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The tremendous noise made Oliverus and the other warriors realize that they were also immersed in a formidable power, and their emotions gradually calmed.

...

The Persian king's grand army continued to advance slowly and orderly. The rolling chariots led the way, followed by the unarmored archer units, then the light cavalry. In the rear were the infantry with long shields and the infantry with spears and wicker shields. The heavy cavalry was divided into two parts, with one part guarding the Persian king and the other deployed at the far left flank of the formation.

The vast Persian army resembled thick clouds in the sky before a storm, slowly pressing forward, suffocating those who beheld it.

...

At this moment, Cyrus the Younger rode along the formation with a few attendants, swiftly giving instructions to each Greek mercenary leader.

Amidst the continuous cheers, he reached the far right end of the Greek formation and could even see the roaring Euphrates River not far away.

"I salute you, Your Highness!" Clearchus saluted.

Cyrus the Younger looked down at the Greek he trusted most, pointing his finger at the location of the Persian center and said, "When the battle begins, I want you to lead your men straight to the enemy's center. Crush Artaxerxes. The victory in this battle will undoubtedly be ours!"

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