Thermopylae… Thermopylae… after going in a full circle, that old friend had returned to the starting point of fate once again.
If things went badly, Sparta might truly be finished…
Lost in thought, Samael's brow tightened. As the image of that pursuer who had dissolved into a cloud of blood resurfaced in his mind, his eyes narrowed slightly.
The Ancient Serpent cracked his whip, urging the warhorse forward. He quickly caught up to Gorgo and Helen, drawing level with his two employers. His gaze darkened as he asked in a low, seemingly casual voice,
"Do you know what that monster chasing you actually is?"
"We don't know. We only know he calls himself Assassin, someone who specializes in intercepting messengers and cutting off Thermopylae's contact with the outside world…"
Assassin… an assassin… Heroic Spirit summoning? It had been a long time since he had heard such a formal designation…
In principle, Heroic Spirits rarely appeared alone. They usually came as part of a set.
Samael suppressed the faint shadow rising in his eyes and glanced sideways at Gorgo and Helen.
"To infiltrate beyond Sparta's borders and hunt you down all the way here, there's only one likely explanation: someone leaked information. And it must be a high-ranking Spartan with access to firsthand battle reports and full knowledge of your movements."
"Theron!"
Running through everything that had seemed off, Gorgo's expression changed as she forced out the name.
"He is?"
"…A divine-blooded royal who represents Sparta's interests in the Areopagus council…"
"And now?"
"At the Areopagus! It has to be him. He intercepted my husband's reports, colluded with the Persians, and concealed the truth from the council!"
The Spartan queen clenched her teeth, fury blazing in her eyes.
"That damned traitor! He's betrayed Sparta… betrayed all of Greece!"
Helen gently patted her chest as the shadow in her expression gradually eased. She placed a hand on Gorgo's shoulder and spoke softly.
"Don't worry. As long as we present the evidence before the council and expose that traitor for what he is, once Athens mobilizes its army to reinforce us, Thermopylae will hold."
"Right. I've kept every report and piece of intelligence Leonidas sent close to me. With those in hand, there's no way we can't bring down that turncoat!"
Gorgo nodded firmly, her expression easing.
If only it were that simple…
Samael turned his head aside, his eyes flickering.
That Spartan representative couldn't possibly control everything in Athens. And even if he intercepted Sparta's reports, what about the others?
This was a coalition of all the Greek city-states, filled with divine-blooded nobles from across the land, even including Athenian hoplites.
And yet, in the face of the crisis at Thermopylae, the Areopagus had shown no response at all. Could this really be the work of just one man?
More likely, the rot had already sunk deep into its bones.
Of course, now that his two employers had regained some spirit, there was no need to say any of that.
Because he had returned.
Samael looked toward the distant outline of the Areopagus, his gaze cold and heavy, as if brewing a storm of blood. Then, in the next moment, he turned his eyes north, a trace of solemnity settling over his face.
Hopefully, with Caesar and Alexander now in the fray, Thermopylae could hold until matters in Athens were resolved.
Old friend… wait for me.
...
At Thermopylae, soldiers from the various Greek city-states arrived one after another, regrouping after their retreat.
Thermopylae lay at a critical pass in central Greece, named for the steaming hot springs scattered around its entrance. The surrounding terrain was rugged, filled with steep mountains and natural barriers that were easy to defend and difficult to assault, making it highly unfavorable for Persian cavalry.
Only at Thermopylae itself did an east-west corridor exist, a passage stretching roughly five kilometers.
From a high vantage point, it was clear that steep mountains rose along the southern side, while the northern edge ran close to the Maliac Gulf.
Along this corridor were three key positions: the Western Gate, the Central Gate, and the Eastern Gate, jointly defended by Caesar, Leonidas, and Alexander.
The Central Gate, guarded by the Spartan king, was an old defensive wall built by the Phocians to block cavalry, well-suited for deploying the Spartan phalanx. As for the Western and Eastern Gates, their narrowest points were only wide enough for a single chariot, lowering the demand for troop quality and making them even easier to defend.
Once battle began, the Persian army's numerical advantage would be nearly nullified by the terrain. To break through Thermopylae, they would have to commit reinforcements wave after wave, effectively turning it into the classic blunder of piecemeal troop deployment.
Leonidas walked along the defensive walls, patting the battlements with satisfaction. At the same time, he organized auxiliary troops to transport supplies and repair fortifications, while summoning Magi and priests to inscribe defensive spells onto every brick and stone, preparing thoroughly for the coming battle.
As evening approached, the vanguard of the Persian army had already begun to appear near Thermopylae.
"Chirp, chirp!"
Just as Leonidas was preparing for battle, several Ironfeather Eagles with glossy black plumage swooped down and landed on the battlements, the message tubes on their talons plainly visible.
"What does it say?"
"I'm guessing it's more of Xerxes's surrender nonsense…"
A laurel-crowned middle-aged man, now visibly leaner from the hardships of campaigning, and a red-haired boy with a short sword at his waist walked over, trading remarks in a relaxed tone, as if they had stumbled onto a rare bit of entertainment.
"He says the Persians are too many to count. Their arrows alone could blot out the sun, and if they spat, they could drown us. If I'm willing to surrender, he can make me King of Greece."
Leonidas shrugged, looking thoroughly unimpressed, then turned and shot his two companions a mocking look.
"Well? Either of you interested?"
With a sly grin, Caesar patted his young companion on the shoulder, then rubbed his chin as he looked toward the Persian vanguard gathering in the distance, muttering in dissatisfaction,
"Xerxes really doesn't know how to make a deal. One King of Greece, split three ways between us? Tsk, stingy."
"Besides, being King of Greece isn't for him to decide. In the end, wouldn't we still have to look at Cyrus's face?"
Alexander let out a scornful laugh and shook his head, mercilessly exposing the Persian king's empty promises.
Then the future King of Conquerors stepped forward with one hand on his sword and his head held high. His face still carried a trace of youthful softness, but his expression was wild and full of confidence.
"If I'm going to be a king, then I'll be the king who conquers the world and reaches the Sea at the End. And whatever I want, I'll take it myself. I don't need anyone to hand it to me!"
"Your hometown of Macedon is already gone, so where's all that confidence coming from?"
Caesar slung an arm around Alexander's neck and, without the slightest mercy, poked straight at the young man's sore spot.
"That was with my father leading the army. If it had been me, the Persians would've lost at least a few teeth!"
Alexander remained as spirited as ever, completely unaffected by the shameless fat man's teasing.
"If your old man hears you say that, watch out or he'll spank you."
Caesar rolled his eyes with a grin, not forgetting to throw in another jab.
"Since neither of you wants it, I'll just burn the letter. And as it happens, I'm short one side dish for tonight's drinks…"
Leonidas licked his dry lips, his green eyes turning ominous as they settled on the Ironfeather Eagle perched on the battlement. The sheer malice in that stare made the flat-feathered beast shudder. It turned to flee at once, only to be grabbed by the faster-reacting Spartan king.
"Don't. We should be reasonable. By proper etiquette, we ought to send a reply…"
Caesar pressed a hand to Leonidas's shoulder, his amused eyes narrowing into slits.
"A reply? Reply with what?"
"Tell him to think it over a little more…"
Following Caesar's gaze, Leonidas looked toward the exhausted force of over seven thousand men and nodded thoughtfully.
At the same time, the Spartan king seemed to realize something. His eyes flickered, and the deep, solemn look he gave the Roman emperor made Caesar's scalp prickle.