The system's words echoed in Leonidas's mind long after the banners faded from the heavens:
[Conquests before the Second Wave grant reinforcements and Gifts. Failure to expand will weaken survival odds.]
He stood in the dim barracks, his men resting after drills, the scent of Phokas's forge drifting in through the night air. Damon tended grain near the outskirts, while Eryx worked horses with quiet patience. Leonidas knew the truth now: Sparta's fifty alone would not withstand the Second Wave. Not against Evelyne's knights, Rome's legions, or Persia's Immortals.
He needed more. And the system had already placed the map in his hand.
---
The overlay pulsed, revealing a faint glow just beyond Sparta's southern hills:
[Target Conquest: Lakonia – Population: 300. Defense: Militia 120, Cohesion 55%.]
[Reward for Conquest: +200 trained men, Artisan Potential (Unrevealed).]
Theron leaned over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. "Lakonia. Close, but fortified. If we move fast, we could take it."
Leonidas studied the numbers. 120 defenders—not elite, but determined. Cohesion weak compared to his Iron Cohort, but time was short. The system's counter whispered in his vision:
[Second Wave begins: 23 months.]
If he failed to claim Lakonia before the wave, his wall might crumble under its weight.
---
At dawn, Leonidas assembled the Cohort. The men stood tall, eyes sharp, their shields catching the rising sun. The cavalry horses stamped nervously nearby, Eryx at their reins. Damon leaned on his staff, watching silently.
Leonidas spoke plainly. "The system is clear. We cannot face the Second Wave with fifty. We march to Lakonia. We take it, or we die when the Wave comes. There is no other path."
Doros grinned fiercely. "Finally, a real fight."
Kyros smirked. "And real loot."
Theron's gaze was harder, steadier. "And real risk. Fail, and the wall falls."
Leonidas nodded. "Then we do not fail."
---
The march south was swift, the Cohort's pace unbroken. Villagers whispered as they passed, some praying, some spitting, their fear of Sparta as sharp as their awe. By the third day, Lakonia's walls rose before them—wooden palisades, rough but sturdy, smoke curling from chimneys inside.
The defenders gathered on the ramparts, spears glinting, faces grim.
A herald shouted from the gate. "Spartans! This is Lakonia, not your clay to mold. Turn back or bleed for every step."
Leonidas studied them, his overlay flickering.
Lakonia Militia – Cohesion: 55%
Iron Cohort – Cohesion: 97%
Cavalry Unit – Cohesion: 82%
The difference was clear. But time was not on his side.
---
That night, Leonidas gathered his captains around the fire. Doros wanted a direct assault. "We'll smash them head-on. Break their gate, cut them down."
Kyros argued for stealth. "Climb the walls at night. Slit throats before they wake."
Theron shook his head. "Both waste men. Their cohesion is weak. Better to make them break themselves."
Leonidas listened, weighing each word. Finally, he spoke. "We'll strike with both hammer and trap. The cavalry will ride wide at dawn, stirring panic. The Cohort will march straight, shields locked. When they scatter to meet the riders, their wall will crack. And then we drive through."
The men nodded. Eryx smiled grimly. "About time the horses earn their oats."
---
Dawn came with fire in the sky. The Iron Cohort advanced in perfect rhythm, shields thundering with every step. From the flank, Eryx's riders swept into view, kicking up dust, their hooves pounding like war drums.
The defenders shouted in panic. Half their line broke from the gate to meet the riders, spears jabbing wildly. The overlay shimmered:
Lakonia Militia – Cohesion: 45% (falling fast)
Leonidas raised his spear. "Forward!"
The Cohort surged, smashing against the half-empty gate. Shields locked, spears thrusting, they pressed like iron against wood. The gate groaned, splinters flying. Doros bellowed as he rammed his shield forward, Kyros laughing as he slipped past faltering spears.
The militia wavered. Some dropped shields, others turned to flee.
[Enemy Cohesion: 30% – Collapse Imminent.]
Leonidas drove his spear into the breach. "Press! Break them!"
The gate splintered, the defenders crumbling before the iron wall. Within minutes, Lakonia was theirs.
---
The villagers knelt in the square, eyes wide with fear and awe. The militia threw down their arms, their loyalty bars flickering in Leonidas's overlay, some red, some dim, but none beyond repair.
The system chimed, its voice ringing in his mind:
[Conquest Complete: Lakonia Subjugated.]
[Reinforcements Gained: 200 trained militia, Cohesion 55%.]
[Potential Detected: Artisan – Unrevealed. Seek within Lakonia.]
Leonidas exhaled, his chest heavy but steady. They had done it. The wall was no longer fifty—it was two hundred and fifty strong. Still small compared to Evelyne's knights or Rome's legions, but no longer a pebble against a storm.
Theron stepped beside him. "We made it. Barely. Another month and the Wave would have struck us half-dead."
Leonidas nodded. "But now we stand stronger. When the Wave comes, we meet it with iron and fire."
He looked at his men, at Eryx's riders, at Damon's grain sacks already being brought to the village's empty storehouses. He thought of Phokas's forge, of the walls they would build higher with every conquest.
And above them all, Evelyne's banner still gleamed brightest in the heavens.
Steel bends. Iron does not.