The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe
Chapter 43 Archery Battle

Chapter 43: Chapter 43 Archery Battle

As they discussed the gods, Matonis, a member of Juleios’ guard, couldn’t resist a jibe. "So, your Persian sun god Mithra is stronger than our Apollo? Who’s better?"

Marrici scoffed. "Mithra is the master of nature itself, ensuring the fertility of the land and the prosperity of all who worship him. Apollo? A mere minor deity in comparison."

The comment struck a nerve. Matonis lunged at Marrici, fury in his eyes, but Xilos intervened just in time, pulling him back. Marrici retreated behind Juleios, his face pale. Juleios glared at him and spoke firmly: "Matonis asked a simple question, and you chose to insult a god we Greeks hold dear. If you don’t apologize immediately, I will not stop them from taking their revenge."

Marrici, seeing the soldiers’ angry glares, quickly bowed deeply and offered a hasty apology. "Forgive my insolence!" he stammered. To emphasize his sincerity, he slapped himself hard across the face. The soldiers grudgingly accepted his apology, though their glares lingered.

Once the tension had subsided, Juleios turned to Marrici with a question that had been nagging at him: "Why does Larissa look so desolate?"

Marrici hesitated. "Most of the people here are Medes," he finally admitted.

Juleios pondered this for a moment before the realization struck him. "The Persian court doesn’t value this region because it was once the heart of Media and Assyria. They fear rebellion, so they suppress it, don’t they?"

Marrici’s startled expression confirmed the truth of Juleios’ deduction. Emboldened, Juleios continued: "Higher taxes? Forced conscription? Perhaps even deliberate neglect of the land?"

Marrici sighed, his tone laced with reluctant admiration. "You’re far sharper than most Greeks. If you were Persian, you’d make an excellent official."

Juleios laughed softly. "Persia may be a great empire, but it isn’t to my taste."

"Because you’re Greek?" Marrici asked.

Juleios didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the towering walls of Larissa, lost in thought. Was he truly Greek? The question gnawed at him. His soul and mind felt out of place, as though they belonged to a different time and world. Though he had embraced his role among the Greeks, it was more out of necessity than genuine identity.

The next day, the mercenaries resumed their march and arrived at Mesopola, the ruins of ancient Nineveh, once the capital of Assyria. Marrici eagerly shared the city’s history: "After Persia overthrew Media, the last Median queen, Medea, sought refuge in this city. Nineveh’s walls, with foundations nearly 17 meters tall, withstood Cyrus’ siege for years."

Juleios gazed at the crumbling ruins. Weeds and thorn bushes had overtaken the once-mighty walls, swaying mournfully in the wind. The sight filled him with a sense of melancholy.

"Even the mightiest nations eventually fall," he murmured.

The soldiers, unaware of his deeper thoughts, saw only a resilient leader—one who had led them through countless battles and would undoubtedly lead them to many more.

"Will Persia do the same?" Asistes asked curiously. "And what about Greece?" Marigi immediately turned and glared, refusing to back down.

Juleios glanced at them and said half-jokingly, half-seriously, "If you live long enough, maybe you’ll see it in fifty years."

"Is this a prophecy?" Asistes asked excitedly.

Marigi was visibly skeptical.

Juleios smiled but didn’t answer. If his small butterfly wings weren’t strong enough to change the course of history, then several decades later (he couldn’t recall the exact time), Alexander of Macedon would conquer mainland Greece and then destroy Persia. Since the Greeks didn’t consider the northern Macedonians to be part of their own people, in a sense, Alexander would have conquered the two most powerful forces in the Mediterranean at that time in one fell swoop.

For the next two days, the Greek mercenaries continued their march with ease.

On the third day, however, Tissaphernes’ army appeared.

Now, the 50-man light cavalry unit of the Greek mercenaries, essentially deployed by Juleios for reconnaissance, became crucial. Given the superior individual skills of Persian cavalry, Greek cavalry were no match in one-on-one combat. Thus, they operated in groups of five, staying within two or three miles of the main force. At the first sight of Persian troops, they would immediately report back.

"The Persians are coming! Prepare to defend!" "Relay Clearchus’ order: prepare for defense!"

Messengers quickly moved along the massive phalanx, delivering commands.

The Greek mercenaries adopted a hollow square phalanx formation, with the baggage train protected at the center. It was impossible to change formation before engaging the enemy. Instead, they had the baggage train move closer to the center, while the soldiers raised their shields and spears, staying alert, slowing their march, and maintaining a cohesive formation.

Soon, the Persians appeared directly behind them. From the high-flying banners, the soldiers knew Tissaphernes was coming. The Greek mercenaries, who had easily defeated him at the Battle of Cunaxa, didn’t take him too seriously.

Then, a second army appeared on Tissaphernes’ left wing. As the formation advanced, the Greeks grew tense. This was another force of no less than 10,000 soldiers! The insignia on their banners was familiar—Orontes, the Satrap of Armenia, had arrived. This was anticipated by the leaders.

Following that, another large force appeared on Tissaphernes’ right wing, also numbering no less than 10,000. The high banners bore familiar insignias.

"Oh, I remember now! That’s the army we encountered earlier, reportedly led by the King of Persia’s brother!" Asistes exclaimed.

"This army, which should have been marching in the opposite direction, is now here! They must have been secretly following us all along. Tissaphernes harbored malicious intent from the start!" Philesius said grimly.

Juleios nodded stiffly, gripping the reins tightly with both hands.

Tissaphernes’ forces also included the remnants of Darius the Younger’s army under Ariobarzanes. These four massive armies converged, forming a wedge formation that slowly advanced toward the Greek forces.

The vast, dense wave of Persian soldiers was the largest the Greek mercenaries had seen since the Battle of Cunaxa. Back then, they had Darius the Younger as an ally, and their responsibility was only the right flank. Now, they faced the entire Persian army, and a sense of nervousness was inevitable.