"The King's army is coming! The King's army is coming!!..." A scouting cavalryman galloped from afar, shouting repeatedly in Persian and Greek.
The soldiers, who were preparing to stop and rest, stirred.
"Patikias, is what you say true? Has Artaxerxes really come?!" Seeing the cavalryman who had just jumped off his horse, Cyrus the Younger asked impatiently from his mount.
"Yes, Your Highness. Artaxerxes has come! Artagerse has also come! And that… that damned Tissaphernes has also come!!" Patikias said, panting heavily, in a hoarse voice.
"Good, my friend! Very good! He has finally come!!" Cyrus the Younger jumped off his horse excitedly, while having his servant put on his breastplate, and shouted to his adjutant, Ariæus: "Inform the whole army, prepare for battle!!"
"Yes, Your Highness!" Ariæus hurriedly called a messenger: "Immediately inform the Greeks to quickly line up on our right flank! Prepare for battle!"
The messenger galloped away.
Ariæus then summoned the Persian generals. Cyrus the Younger had them lead the soldiers to deploy on his left flank, while he led eight hundred cavalrymen in the center.
The meticulous Artapatas asked, "How many enemies are there?"
"About sixty thousand… or eighty thousand…" Patikias recalled the scene he had seen, a few traces 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, not minding his dusty and sweaty body at all. Then, turning around and mounting his horse, he shouted to those around him: "Friends, are you afraid?!"
Cyrus the Younger's followers and guards, of course, expressed their bravery.
"Even if Artaxerxes has more soldiers, he is still that cowardly Artaxerxes! Don't forget, even a small hunting dog can scare him into wetting himself!" Cyrus the Younger's crude words caused a burst of laughter around him.
"And I have you! And my army! Together we defeated the mighty Athens! That Athens that has repeatedly defeated us Persians!" Every time Cyrus the Younger's gaze swept over someone, that person would straighten their chest.
"We also have the brave Greeks! They are fighting alongside us!" Cyrus the Younger looked towards the right—where the Greek hoplites were beginning to slowly line up. Seeing this, he was full of confidence: "We are unstoppable! We are invincible!!"
"Victory!" Artapatas shouted first, and then everyone rushed to shout: "Victory!!"
Faced with the rising morale, Cyrus the Younger raised his right hand: "Friends! Warriors! After this victory, I swear to the supreme god Mazda, I will do my best to repay your friendship and dedication!!"
"Cyrus, THEGREAT!!" Someone shouted. Immediately, like a flash flood, the shouts surged.
… … … … … … …
"Hey, Matonis. Is there any news yet?" Daiphers couldn't help but pat the shoulder of the warrior in front of him again.
"How many times have you asked! No! No!" Matonis wiped the sweat-covered neck with his free left hand, shouting irritably: "Why haven't the enemies come yet? The sun is already in the middle of the sky! If we wait any longer, I'm going to be roasted by its flames!"
"Matonis, even if your meat is roasted, I don't want to smell it. I'm so sick of eating meat these days that I want to vomit." A warrior next to him said glibly, causing a burst of laughter among the warriors.
"Shut up! Oliveros, you lecherous fellow, if you want me to stuff your hand into your mouth and let you taste the taste of the meat on your own body, you just keep talking!" Matonis waved his strong arm, threatening fiercely.
"Oh, I'm so scared!" Oliveros pretended to be very scared,
causing another burst of laughter among the crowd.
"Stand still, stop fooling around! Menon is here!" As Xilos's voice fell, a shrill voice was heard: "You brats, what do you think this is! Your family's banquet seat?"
A warrior with a well-proportioned figure and a red tassel on his helmet stood in front of the phalanx, pointing at them and scolding: "This is the battlefield! If you don't go all out, then Hades will be happy to visit you!"
"Rotten-mouthed Menon!" Someone shouted in the ranks.
"Who said that?! Stand out for me!!!!" Everyone suppressed their laughter, gloating as they watched Menon jumping up and down in front, shouting in exasperation.
At this moment, someone shouted sharply: "Look, ahead!!!!"
The soldiers immediately focused their attention ahead. Soon, the smiles on their faces were quickly replaced by horror.
At the end of the line of sight, dust rose into the sky, covering the hills, trees, and houses, a hazy gray.
After a while, a thin black line emerged from the dust, began to extend to both sides, and gradually became thicker…
After a while, when the soldiers could barely see the outline of the enemy, countless lights began to dazzle everyone's eyes in the dazzling sunlight.
Armor, spears, shields… the cold light emitted seemed like the boundless Milky Way in the night sky; footsteps, shouts, horse neighs converged into rolling sound waves, even the earth trembled for it, let alone people's legs.
Just as Oliveros felt that he was about to fall, he heard Xilos shout: "Prepare for battle!"
"Prepare for battle!!"
"Prepare for battle!!!!"
The Greek mercenary warriors put on their helmets, took off the round shields hanging on their left shoulders, held their spears, and began to beat their shields.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!…" The huge noise made Oliveros and the other warriors realize that they were also in a powerful force, and their mood gradually calmed down.
… … … … … … … …
The Persian King's army was still advancing slowly and orderly: scythed chariots were in the front, followed by unarmored archer units, then light cavalry, and finally infantry with long shields and infantry with spear and wicker shields. The heavy cavalry was divided into two parts, one part guarding the Persian King; one part deployed on the far left flank of the army…
The mighty Persian army was like thick clouds in the sky before a storm, slowly pressing down, making people breathless.
… … … … … … … …
At this moment, Cyrus the Younger, with a few followers, sped along the army formation, to the left and to the right, giving instructions to each Greek mercenary leader…
Accompanied by continuous cheers, he had reached the far right end of the Greek army formation, and could even see the roaring Euphrates River not far away.
"Greetings to you, Your Highness!" Clearchus gave a military salute.
Cyrus the Younger looked down at this Greek, whom he trusted the most, pointed to the location of the Persian King's central army, and said: "When the battle begins, I hope you lead your men straight to the center of the enemy. Defeat Artaxerxes, and the victory of this battle is definitely ours!"
Clearchus looked at the enemy's central formation, which was noticeably thicker, and then at the enemy's left wing, which extended even further than his own line. Although he had fully supported Cyrus from the beginning, that didn't mean he would blindly obey. He bluntly refused, "Your Highness, I think we should first defeat the enemy's left wing and then strike their center from the side. That would be safer."
"I understand Artaxerxes, the Persian army, and your Greek phalanxes! Trust me, my friend, your army will easily defeat Artaxerxes' center! Once Artaxerxes is defeated, it won't matter how many troops he has!" Cyrus urged.
Clearchus stubbornly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Your Highness! I will not expose the flank of my phalanx to the enemy's main force!"
Cyrus frowned and glared at Clearchus, but he no longer had time to organize his words to persuade him. As for forcibly issuing an order, the man was a mercenary, not his subordinate.
"Alright, we'll do as you say!" Cyrus turned his horse around. He sharply pulled the reins and galloped back the way he came.
… … … … … … … …
When the two armies were about five hundred meters apart, the Greek soldiers began to chant the paean of Ares, the god of war, and advanced.
By the time the paean was finished, they were less than two hundred meters away.
"Ares!!!" The soldiers shouted in unison, breaking into a jog that grew faster and faster… The sound of tens of thousands of Greek heavy infantry forming a 'boom! boom! boom!…' was like the rumbling of thunder gathering energy, ready to shatter the dark night with lightning!
The Persians on the opposite side seemed completely stunned by the overwhelming torrent of steel before them. As the Greek army drew closer and closer, apart from a few scythed chariots that charged straight into the Greek ranks, accompanied by screams and the grinding of severed limbs, before disappearing into silence, the others, out of fear, forgot to fire their arrows and forgot to raise their shields.
When the two armies were only a dozen meters apart, the Persians collapsed, turning and fleeing.
The Greeks hadn't expected victory to come so quickly, and, their energy still unspent, they pursued the enemy with even greater vigor.
At first, squad leaders like Hilos repeatedly reminded their comrades, "Maintain formation, don't run too fast! Maintain formation…"
In the end, the formation completely broke apart, and all the Greeks were caught up in the frenzy of the chase.
… … … … … … …
Cyrus in the center hadn't expected the victory on the right wing to come so quickly and was momentarily stunned.
"Long live King Cyrus!!!" The attendants had already begun to wave their spears and shout for victory.
"Your Highness, should we follow and pursue?" Artapates asked for his instructions.
He shook his head, his gaze fixed on his left front.
He knew very well that only by taking down that person could he obtain that supreme crown.
"Order Ariaeus' left wing to halt and prepare for defense!" Cyrus immediately issued the order. He knew very well that his strongest troops were the Greek mercenaries. Since the Greeks had already repelled the enemy's left wing, there was no need for him to rush his left wing, which was significantly smaller than the enemy's, into a head-on collision with the enemy's right wing. If they were to suffer a rapid defeat as well, the battle would become troublesome. It would be better to delay as much as possible and wait for the Greek mercenaries who were pursuing the routed enemy to return, then victory would be assured.
However, as he patiently waited for the enemy to approach, the enemy's center stopped advancing.
Soon, his expression changed.
Because the enemy's center began to split into two parts, with the left part turning back to the left rear.
"Not good! They want to attack the Greeks!" Artapates exclaimed.
If the Greek heavy infantry, scattered in pursuit of the routed enemy, were attacked from behind, they could fall into chaos, and the battle could be reversed.
"Artaxerxes, you dare to change formations on the battlefield! Do you really think that just because I have fewer cavalry, I wouldn't dare to attack proactively!" Cyrus sneered, quickly making a decision in his mind. He raised his spear and pointed forward: "Order the right wing to advance at full speed! The cavalry will attack with me!!"
"Your Highness, please put on your helmet!" The attendant hurriedly handed him his helmet. Cyrus had already spurred his horse forward, and the attendants on his left and right quickly caught up, protecting him in the center.
More than eight hundred cavalry formed a wedge formation, charging straight towards the Persian king's center.
The commander of the Persian center, Artagerses, hadn't expected Cyrus to attack at this moment and hurriedly ordered the cavalry to meet the charge. However, at this moment, the formation was changing, and the vast array of infantry blocked the cavalry's path forward. After much difficulty, a thousand cavalrymen squeezed out from the gaps in the formation, but Cyrus' rapidly charging cavalry had already closed in.
With a clamor of men and horses, the hastily assembled Persian cavalry defense line was instantly torn apart.
Then, Cyrus' cavalry, like a sharp knife, plunged fiercely into the back of the Persian king's center unit that was turning back.
Cyrus was brave and fierce, having once hunted a black bear alone. Birds of a feather flock together, and his attendant cavalry and followers were all warriors. Facing enemies with their backs turned, they didn't even bother to waste their spears (because at that time there were no stirrups, and a cavalryman who stabbed an enemy while moving had to let go immediately, otherwise he would be pushed off his horse by the reaction force), instead using the momentum of their high-speed charge to break into the formation and trample the enemy.
Already affected by the defeat of the left wing, and then suddenly struck a heavy blow, the Persian infantry at the forefront began to flee, and Cyrus' cavalry took the opportunity to pursue and kill. Cyrus, however, vaguely saw the Persian king's chariot in the dust and mist. It turned out that the collapse of the main force on the left side of the Persian center had created a large gap, naturally exposing the Persian king in the rear to the front.
"To the left!!!" Cyrus shouted excitedly, waving his spear, bypassing the Persian center's right wing, which was coming to the rescue, and cutting diagonally towards the Persian king's rear guard. Dozens of cavalrymen followed closely behind.
"Quickly form a formation! Protect the Great King!!" Artagerses, the general of the Persian king's personal guard, shouted while urgently leading the dozens of imperial guard cavalrymen around him to meet the attack.
Facing the swarm of enemy cavalry, Cyrus showed no fear. He drew his Greek sword, tightened his legs against his horse's belly, and, seizing the opportunity, used his spear in his right hand to deflect the spear that Artagerses thrust fiercely at him. His left hand stretched out his sword, and without needing to exert any force, as the two horses crossed paths, Artagerses' neck was naturally cut open by the Greek sword, using the force of the forward momentum…
Cyrus, with his superb skill and horsemanship, killed several people in a row. Soon, his cavalry caught up and blocked the other enemy cavalry for him. Only the circle of royal guards around the chariot remained between him and the Persian King Artaxerxes. He could even clearly see his brother's terrified face.
Thinking of his imprisonment by him, thinking of him occupying the throne that should have been his (this was just Cyrus' delusion, the old Persian king had never considered passing the throne to him), a burst of anger burned in his chest: "Artaxerxes!" He roared, forcefully throwing the spear in his hand. Amidst exclamations, the spear, like lightning, pierced through the gaps in the royal guards and struck the Persian king in the chest.
The Persian king cried out miserably and fell onto the chariot.
Seeing the Persian king fall, there was chaos before him. His anger finally vented, and he laughed wantonly, as if the Persian crown was already in his grasp, but he didn't hear the equally urgent shouts of his attendant cavalry behind him: "Be careful, Your Highness! Be careful!!…"
The laughter stopped abruptly. A javelin flew out from the chaotic crowd and struck him right in the eye socket.
He didn't utter a sound and immediately fell from his horse…