Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality-Chapter 853 - 335: Seeing Destiny

Chapter 853 -335: Seeing Destiny

Below the pass, the Alliance swarmed in for the attack.

Every moment, someone died, and there were panicked deserters who shrank from advancing.

However, the dense phalanx ruthlessly blocked their route of retreat with blood, severing their only way out.

To die behind, or to die beneath the city walls.

For the rulers of the Nations, these conscripted armies or slaves used as cannon fodder were of no concern.

Their sole purpose was to exhaust the enemy’s vigor, for a fatal blow at the critical moment.

...

“How are the preparations on the Trojans’ side?”

“Noon has passed, if we delay any longer, even if we successfully break through this pass, it will probably be night time.”

“And the battlefield at night… you know what happens.”

Watching the distant battle, Agamemnon’s tall frame had already shed his heavy armor.

Next to him, the King of Sparta, Menelaus, held a long spear and shield, the gaps in his leather armor revealing a body scarred.

The battlefield at night was an ominous symbol, and of course, he was aware of this.

Because the newly dead souls would wander the Earth, trying to make the living join them.

Indeed, the priests’ Divine Arts could disperse them, but no one could pay attention to these during the fierce slaughter.

Therefore, few in Chaos wished to initiate attacks at night, leading to this very reality where mutual destruction was likely.

“Heh, so he had better be quick, and of course, it doesn’t matter if he’s a bit late.”

With a snort, Menelaus waved his arms.

Sparta had not sent troops to follow up, but once the Trojans broke through, they would be the one to charge immediately afterward.

“After all, Spartans never waste their warriors’ blood in vain… But since your slaves are willing to die, it wouldn’t be bad to stack their corpses into a high wall.”

There was no explanation about the difference between slaves and conscripted soldiers, for Agamemnon knew, to the Spartans, indeed there was none.

For in order to support their selection of ruthlessly culled offspring, these barbarians conquered a large number of people, making them till the land and transport various necessities for their masters.

Servant or slave, it was all the same to the Spartans.

Even the City-States that obeyed them, they never spared any pity.

Even, from time to time, the Spartans would pick the strongest servant force and then unhesitatingly massacre them.

They claim it was to deter the other slaves… but Agamemnon preferred to believe it was to satisfy the barbarians’ cruel, murderous souls.

Tap tap…

“Hmm?”

“Speaking of them, it looks like they’re here.”

With a slight change in expression, Agamemnon and Menelaus immediately turned around.

With their strength, the slight trembling of the Earth could naturally not escape their senses.

Lying at the rear of the Alliance, that sound so clearly conveyed the commotion of a knight’s charge.

Moreover, the faint power of Divine Arts that followed verified the identity of the arrivals.

Thus, the King of Mycenae immediately signaled for the Alliance’s formation to open up on both sides.

In terms of the army, this was a breach.

A formation that changes mid-battle without hundreds of training repetitions can hardly adapt easily, especially not the multi-commanded Alliance of Nations.

Follow current novels on freewebnσvel.cѳm.

However, at this moment, they were the ones besieging, and the Athenians could not possibly exploit this gap… Agamemnon glanced upwards towards the top of the pass, noting that the garrison there also seemed to be making some maneuvers.

Noticed it, have they? Well, Athenian craftsmanship has always been exceptional.

Perhaps they have already noted the Trojan knights, but what of it?

The Alliance already had an overwhelming advantage, even if the deities did not come forth.

It was just unknown where, after this battle, the next Athenian defense line would be…

“—Agamemnon, did you misplace it?”

“What?”

Puzzled, the King of Mycenae’s gaze shifted from the fortress.

He looked again towards the rear of the Alliance, where the gradually rising dust pointed to a location that did indeed seem a bit off.

If things continued this way, the opposition might crash right into the Alliance’s right flank.

And his current position was precisely on the left flank of the grand army.

“Priest!”

“Contact the troops on the right, tell them to clear the way, then send a signal to guide the Trojan knights.”

Without suspicion, Agamemnon’s first reaction was not to believe this was a sign of treachery.

After all, Priam couldn’t possibly make such a choice, for that would only bring his Kingdom to collapse.

“Looks like I’ve given them too much credit, I thought Hector was a formidable successor, but now it seems, he’s simply overrated.”

Shaking his head slightly, Agamemnon seemed disappointed, but now he also had to prepare for the street battle inside the fortress afterward.

However, just as he was about to turn around, the King of Mycenae’s gaze suddenly froze.

For on the spear tip of that leading knight, he seemed to see falling drops of blood.

“…”

“Quick— Defense!”

With a loud shout, suddenly, like a pot exploding, the booming voice seemed to overwhelm the slaughter on the battlefield.

And almost at the same moment, the fortress gates slowly opened a gap, with Athenian troops poised and ready behind.

Like prey caught between two arrows, the bisected Alliance troops had nowhere to retreat.

And their softest belly was about to be pierced through.

“Priam… has he gone mad?!”

Incredulous, yet at that moment, Agamemnon could almost envision the deities’ reprimand.