The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe-Chapter 5 - The God-Favored One

Juleios stumbled through the bustling, overcrowded paths of the camp, his thoughts a tangled mess as he tried to navigate. Several times, he nearly tripped, barely keeping his footing. Pushing back the curtain of his tent, he stepped inside, greeted by four pairs of strange, probing eyes.

Inside, the tent was quiet, an eerie contrast to the chaos outside.

"Juleios , Cyrus the Younger... he's dead!" Oryphus blurted, his voice trembling with an odd mix of disbelief and awe. "You guessed it. He's really dead!"

"I heard it from others," Juleios replied calmly, settling onto his makeshift bed. His voice was steady, though his thoughts churned beneath the surface.

Xilos studied him closely. As fellow villagers, they had grown up together and shared a bond, yet at this moment, Juleios seemed unfamiliar. "Antonio came by," Xilos said. "He told us that Ariaeus, Cyrus' adjutant, sent word. Cyrus has fallen in battle. Ariaeus is gathering the scattered troops and plans to join us soon."

"Juleios , you made me lose sleep last night with your predictions," Matonis admitted, scratching his head awkwardly. "But I didn't expect you to be right!"

"What do we do now?" Giorgis asked, his voice uncertain. Once again, the group turned their eyes to Juleios , their gazes filled with an unspoken expectation.

Juleios frowned, puzzled by their behavior. Before he could respond, Oryphus broke the silence. "Come on! Tell us! What did Hades reveal to you?"

Juleios blinked in surprise, then realized what was happening. They believed he was chosen by Hades, the god of the underworld.

When the news of Cyrus' death had reached them, the group had been shocked by Juleios ' earlier prediction. Their discussions led them to a startling conclusion: the youngest among them, who had always been looked after, had changed drastically since waking from his coma. His behavior and speech were different, almost as if he were a new person. Even the way he carried himself seemed unnatural, as if touched by something otherworldly.

The way he had woken up only added to the mystery. When they found him unconscious on the battlefield, they had tried everything to rouse him, to no avail. Then, without warning, his eyes had snapped open.

Desperate and uncertain, the group latched onto the idea that Juleios had been blessed by Hades. In him, they saw their lifeline.

Juleios couldn't help but find it amusing, though he hid it well. He knew this was an age of superstition, where the gods loomed large over every aspect of life. But admitting to their belief would only deepen their reliance on him. He had to tread carefully. After all, he only knew the broad strokes of this historical event and not the finer details.

"What oracle?" he said, shaking his head. "I just like to prepare for the worst so I'm ready when danger comes."

The group exchanged glances. They didn't believe him. They knew the old Juleios as a hotheaded brawler, not someone who planned for anything. If this wasn't divine favor, then what was it?

Their eyes said it all. Hades must have instructed him to keep the secret. To question further would be blasphemy. They nodded silently, their gazes filled with renewed hope.

Juleios sighed inwardly. Their expectant looks reminded him of the villagers back home, who had once placed their faith in him to change their lives. Now, just like then, he had no answers.

A thought struck him. "Do you know Xenophon?" he asked.

The group shook their heads.

"You think Xenophon can help us?" Oryphus asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Juleios smiled but didn't reply. He was puzzled. The Internet had mentioned Xenophon as the leader of this great retreat and the author of its story. Why hadn't anyone heard of him? Surely he was already a figure of importance.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

"Where's Xenophon from? Is he in our camp?" Xilos asked.

"He's probably here. He's... an Athenian," Juleios replied. He knew Xenophon's background well. The man was a writer, a strategist, and a disciple of Socrates.

"I'll ask around the other camps," Xilos said, his tone serious.

"Just don't let him be one of Clearchus' men. We'll never get to him if he is," Giorgis warned. The bitter rivalry between Clearchus and Menon's factions ran deep, extending even to their troops.

"If it comes to a fight, so be it!" Matonis exclaimed, grinning. "We Thessalians aren't afraid of those Chersonese bastards!"

"Who are you fighting?" a voice called out. The tent's flap opened, and Antonio stepped inside.

Juleios recognized him from his borrowed memories. Antonio was their squadron leader, though his authority only extended to battle. No one stood to greet him.

"Just joking around," Xilos said with a shrug.

Antonio smirked. "The camp's in chaos, and you're here joking? Good! Good!" He scanned the group before continuing. "Menon sent me. He wants you captains to reassure the men. Tell them Cyrus' death was an accident. His army is intact, and our strength hasn't changed. Once we regroup with Ariaeus tomorrow, we'll have thirty thousand strong! We'll crush the Persian king and take our rewards. Who knows? We might even crown a new king of Persia!"

He looked satisfied with their stunned expressions and turned to leave.

"Wait," Xilos called out. "You can comfort the men, but you need to feed them! We've had nothing but raw horse meat since last night. If this goes on, I can't guarantee order."

"He's right!" Matonis chimed in. "No food, no loyalty!"

Antonio sighed, patting his stomach. "I'm hungry too. The whole camp's short on supplies. Menon's already pushing Mersis to find more, and he's gone to Proxenus—their camp had fewer losses. Even when food comes, there won't be much to go around. Just bear it for another day!" With that, he left.

Xilos sighed. "I'll check on the other tents." He stepped out, leaving Juleios alone with his thoughts.

For the first time, Juleios noticed his own gnawing hunger. Wrapping himself in his blanket, he lay down to conserve energy. Survival, he reminded himself, was all that mattered now.