Boom!
With a heavy roar, a massive boulder crushed over the ridge and came hurtling down. On the narrow path below, the brown-black lead horse had no time to dodge. It was struck head-on, its skull smashed open as it collapsed, legs buckling beneath it.
The remaining two warhorses shrieked in fright, stamping and retreating again and again, forcing the speeding carriage to a sudden halt.
A group of bandits, shouting excitedly, swarmed down from the hillside, closing in from both front and rear of the trapped carriage. Stone weights and javelins rained down along the way, striking the immobilized target with dull, heavy impacts.
Bandits. Damn them!
Seated at the front of the carriage, a tall woman with long brown-black hair, graceful yet sharp with martial bearing, stiffened slightly. She cursed under her breath, wrestled the reins tight, and forcibly brought the panicked horses under control. Then, lifting her skirt, she bent her knees and jumped down, swiftly drawing a sword and shield from the carriage.
Slash!
A cold flash cut through the air. The bald bandit charging at the front had his throat split open, a spray of blood bursting forth. He dropped his weapon in terror, clutching at his neck and gasping, but the blood continued to pour out uncontrollably.
Within moments, he collapsed, face drained of color, his body twitching before going still.
At the same time, the short sword in the brown-black-haired woman's hand danced up and down. With refined technique, she cut down several bandits who had rushed ahead, eager to claim the spoils.
The air quickly filled with the thick stench of blood. The hundred or so bandits following behind stiffened at the sight of the woman standing before the carriage, their steps slowing, their eyes wary.
"A Spartan! Boss, she's a Spartan!"
"Golden stag… cypress… and that's the emblem of the Temple of Artemis on the carriage!"
As they drew closer, the patterns on her shield made a few of the more knowledgeable bandits cry out in alarm.
From the carriage's decoration and the fact that a woman was driving it, they had thought they'd caught a weak lamb in their trap. Instead, cornered on this mountain road, they had run into a she-wolf.
"Good. Then you understand!"
"I am Gorgo, Queen of Sparta, wife of King Leonidas!"
Gorgo's voice rang out cold and clear. At the same time, she tore a pouch from her waist and threw it at the bandits' feet, mixing warning with concession.
"If you want wealth, take it. But if you value your lives, move those stones aside at once. I swear by Styx, goddess of oaths, that I will forgive your offense."
"Otherwise, when I return to the city, I will gather the men of Sparta and see every one of you executed!"
Clink, clink…
Coins of Zeus gold spilled across the ground, ringing out with a bright, enticing sound.
Gulp…
The poorly equipped bandits swallowed hard, greed filling their eyes.
"She talks big. If we let her go, do you think we'll still be alive later?"
"Boss… but Spartans…"
"The Spartans can barely save themselves. Otherwise, would they let their queen travel alone?"
"Then…"
"Don't be afraid! She's alone, and Sparta's far from here!"
The bandit leader's eyes flickered as he spoke, his words shaking off the others' hesitation. He grinned viciously, his gaze crawling over Gorgo with naked lust, his mouth spitting filth.
"Once we've taken her, you lot can all have a taste of what it's like to be king."
"After we've had our fun, I'll take you all to join the Persians! With her in hand, do you think we won't be richly rewarded? Then we'll be kings and officers ourselves, lording it over those noble bastards!"
The crude incitement lit a fire in the bandits. Their eyes gleamed as they closed in from all sides.
Her husband was fighting on the front lines for the fate of all Greece, surrounded by enemies. And yet behind him, these scum were plotting to capture her for a reward and defect to the enemy.
A surge of bitter anger rose in Gorgo's chest. She gritted her teeth and cast one last glance back at the mountain path behind her. Then, turning forward with resolve, killing intent flared cold in her eyes as she charged straight at the bandit leader, her short sword aimed at his throat.
Boom!
Crimson-black Ether surged. The air burst with force as a gale swept outward.
The bandit leader, raising his fist to meet her strike, did not move an inch.
Instead, the Spartan queen was forced back several steps, her arm going numb.
A divine-blooded warrior!
Have things around Athens really deteriorated this badly?
Queen Gorgo's lower back slammed against the side of the carriage as she struggled to steady herself. The churning in her chest made her heart sink straight to the bottom.
What was worse, at the bandit leader's savage grin and wave, a Soul-Eater Beast with tangled purple-black fur, bound in chains, was dragged out from the crowd. The suppression spell was lifted, and it advanced from behind, forming a pincer with that wretched divine-blooded warrior.
Bang!
A blur of violet-black shot forward. The Spartan queen raised her round shield to block the charge, but the overwhelming force drove her stumbling backward, the carriage creaking loudly from the impact.
She had just lifted her short sword to strike when the Soul-Eater Beast swiped its claw, brutally knocking the weapon from her hand.
It's over!
As the reeking wind rushed toward her face, Gorgo shut her eyes in despair.
Thud!
At the last possible instant, a sharp tearing sound split the air. A Middle Eastern-style throwing dagger shot in with lightning speed, piercing straight through the Soul-Eater Beast's skull and shattering its core.
The massive beast crashed to the ground, twitched twice, then fell still, its body already beginning to lose warmth.
"Who did that?! Who killed my pet?! Get out here! I'll chop you into pieces and feed you to…"
The bandit leader shouted outward, fierce in tone but hollow underneath, his eyes twitching.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Before he could finish, a series of sharp bursts cut through the air. The bandits surrounding the carriage clutched their throats as blood poured out, collapsing in terror one after another.
At the same time, the surrounding brush swayed. A blurred white figure moved through the crowd at a speed the eye could barely track. Wherever that cold silver flash passed, bandits were left with severed throats and heads.
Even as blood sprayed like red rain, the figure remained spotless, like a white phantom wielding the scythe of death.
"Monster! It's a monster! Don't… don't come any closer!"
In just a few breaths, more than half of the hundred bandits had been slaughtered. The leader's eyes were bloodshot, his will collapsing. Skirting around the injured Queen Gorgo, he screamed and rushed toward the carriage, trying to seize it and escape this place that had turned into a slaughterhouse.
Thud!
The white figure appeared in an instant. A broad-bladed greatsword slammed down, pinning his hand to the carriage frame.
"Did I say you could move? In such a hurry to die?"
"No, no, I… don't kill me! There's gold in the mountains, it's all yours! If that's not enough, the women I captured, they're all…"
The bandit leader fell to his knees, pale as death, sobbing and begging in terror.
Slash!
A flash of blood. His windpipe was cut open in an instant. Yet he did not die immediately. Instead, he was forced to endure the suffocating agony of blood flooding his lungs, along with the slow drain of his life.
At that moment, death itself became a mercy he could only long for.
Finally, the light faded from his bloodshot eyes, his pupils dilating as he was released from his suffering.
Watching the white-robed assassin who had appeared out of nowhere, and the suspicious West Asian face hidden beneath the hood, the Queen of Sparta quietly retrieved her sword and stood guard before the carriage, fully alert.
"Gorgo, do not treat our benefactor this way. He means no harm. I can sense the guidance of an oracle."
That voice… why does it sound familiar?
After cutting down another bandit, Samael turned back in surprise.
At that moment, the curtain was gently lifted by a slender hand, smooth as carved marble. Beneath a laurel wreath holding back her soft golden hair, a face came into view, both alluring and dignified, breathtakingly beautiful.
…You've got to be kidding. What are the odds?
The blonde beauty extended her hand slightly, nodding with a gentle smile as she conveyed her goodwill.
"Hello, traveler. My name is Helen, High Priestess of the Temple of the Moon in Sparta…"