* * *
It was like a stone fell from my soul: Original Heroes excluded! I won't meet Odysseus in opponents!
"Shit!" Rick spits on the pavement. "Why not Hydras, Cyclops, or, Gaia, Hecatonchairs?"
Would he seriously prefer the guards of Tartarus as opponents? From the look on his face, yes, he would. Where had all his playfulness and indifference gone? There wasn't any. Descart knew from the start that we weren't going for an easy ride; he'd told me that he couldn't underestimate his opponents, and all his joviality up to that point was to cheer me up and reassure Illea at least a little.
"Defend the gates - the Achaeans will never take the city," Runner says confidently. Lance and Ten nod silently at these words.
"Illea!" Daas turns to the Amazon. "Make mincemeat of those protecting the lock and chain, eliminate them, and free the locking mechanism."
"No problem." Shrugs the Stormbringer, exposing her blades.
"I'm with her." I cut in right away. "I've covered."
"Pfft." The look thrown at me by Il..., no, already Iphito, is full of sarcasm and disdain.
"Besides, I'd be much more comfortable shooting from the walls. I don't want to get into hand-to-hand combat. I know I'll be able to use it once I get the Tear exposed, but... I'm a lot more useful with a bow." I say firmly in response.
"I agree." In a split second, weighing my words, the boss agrees. "Rick covers me on the left, Lance, you on the right. I'm the battering ram. We take down everyone at the gate and go into the breach."
"Are you sure?" Tilts his head in doubt, the commander. "We only need to hold the gate to win."
I am confident that my sister is not wrong in forecasting risks. If it were so simple, she wouldn't need all this foul play. It means that defensively, we're doomed. I don't know which Faces we're up against, but I'm sure they're the reason the Old World Special Forces haven't returned from the Arch...
"By attacking, we surprise the enemy and seize the initiative." Lance nods. "Besides, they may have that strategist with the Face of Scipio the African, and considering we're up against an army of many thousands in addition to the Pilgrims, we can't give him time to intercept the command."
"The walls won't help then." Descart clucked his tongue.
"It's decided... Let's attack!"
"I'll finish on the wall and come to you." The Amazon's grin can even be called beautiful, as beautiful as a deadly panther in a moment of attack.
With a quiet, melodious click, the dome of timelessness surrounding us ceases to be. And a cacophony of sounds burst into my ears at once: the screams, the moans of the wounded and dying, the angry clang of clashing swords, and all this against the roaring fire.
Iphito rushes forward as a swift shadow.
I, on the other hand, send an arrow at one of the four archers on the wall, and he falls, grabbing his chest, which is pierced through. After firing the shot, I rush off after Stormbearer.
The Achaeans are veterans of years of war, the best of the best, despite all the speed of the Amazons they have managed to put a barrier on the stairs, blocking the passage with their shields. A whirlwind of Bloodblades so fast and swift that I can't tell them apart, with a loud shriek Iphito crashes into the formation. Crashes in and rolls backward! Oh, wow! These three stopped Ares' daughter. Yes! They did!
The arrow goes flying and... And crashes into the raised shield. What Kronus? They're just ordinary fighters, not heroes!!! How?
Experience and skills honed to perfection are the answer.
Vhaagh!!! The red swords roar, rushing off into another attack.
Once again, the wall of shields is stood firm, and Iphito, in a somersault over the head, is forced to dodge three arrows.
Dong! The bowstring strikes the cuff. And another archer, clutching his neck, falls off the wall. But now arrows are flying at me. I'm wearing armor. I can't do the Amazon trick again. I can't jump like that, so I crouch down.
Bam!
Bam!
The two blows are not that strong. Broken arrows fall at my feet, they can't penetrate the shield of the Kings that covers my back.
"Die!!!" Iphito's shout is so strong that my legs buckle.
Ву-у-у-у-у-а-а-а-а!!! Can swords, cutting through the air, sing so loudly?
Daga-mm-mm!!! The shield-bearers new clash with the fury of the daughter of the god of war ends in the same way as the previous ones - the Amazon retreating. Ah, no, not the same. All three of her opponents are wounded, alas, not seriously, bleeding cuts on their cheeks, arms, and legs, but not deep.
Amazon is in such a rage that I have no words to describe it.
"Die!!!"
The ringing of Bloody Blades clashing with shields overrides all other sounds of battle. The shields withstand this time too, but now the Amazon does not retreat, continuing to press and crush. The penultimate archer on the wall makes the mistake of trying to aim not at me but at the Stormbearer and collapses dead on the silent stone, a white plumage sticking out of his right eye socket.
A new arrow leaves the quiver. No, this time, I'm not trying to kill the shield-bearers. I'm aiming for the shin of the central one.
Dong! And again, he was in time. No, not even that, not in time. The arrow was too fast to react at that distance. He had just correctly judged the inclination of the bow and my intentions. Even ordinary people, after spending a decade in war, become terminators, while others do not survive. And in Horse, they've gathered the best of the Achaeans! So yes, incredible as it may seem, my arrow is deflected. Except that to repel it, the central fighter in the formation had to deflect his shield a little lower and break the line.
"That's it!!! Ha-ah!!!"
For only a fraction of a second, the formation lost its integrity, but it was enough for Iphito, and three heads were rolling down the steps. And the last archer, clutching his chest, falls from the wall, pierced by my arrow.
"Flee from my fury!"- Shouts Stormbearer, taking huge leaps up the stairs.
There were only two fighters left at the top of the gate, which serves as the main lock to the gate. Honestly, having seen an Amazon fight, I would have preferred to jump off the wall, and even though it was twenty meters high, there was still a much better chance of survival. But... These warriors were braver than I was, and they took the fight.
My arrows won't do any good here. She'll be fine on her own. I glance down. The Trojans are lining up their phalanx in front of the city gates. The defenders of the city have recovered from the surprise attack. Where are ours? I don't see any, only blood and corpses near the gates. They've broken through, all right.
"Lock the gate!" I shouted to the phalanx commander.
Ugh! He gets it! And he gives the order. I grab the lever and start pulling with all my might. An ordinary man alone could never have moved the thing, but the thick blood of the Olympians flows in my body, and reluctantly, with a grinding noise, the mechanism gives way.
"You are dirt at my feet!" Iphito shouts, swinging her swords toward the sky. Her last opponent is dead, which means we have defended the wall.
But no sooner do I get happy than bewilderment flashes in the Amazon's eyes and then horror!!!! And she screams, screams at me:
"Top!!"
My body reacts before I can understand the insanity of her command. Well, what kind of air attack can there be during a Trojan War? Good thing my body is smarter than my brain. No sooner do I regroup and fall than a hard blow from behind and above knocks my helmet off my head.
Everything in front of my eyes was blurring, and something warm was running down my temple.
"Ugh..." I trying to say something, but I can't. A sudden jolt sent me into a deep grogginess.
All the sounds around have become very harsh and cause great pain.
There's someone shouting from the wall.
"There's Hector! He's back!!! Hector's back with us!!! He's on the wall!"
And with a rumbling sound, a massive yew plank, instead of locking the city gates firmly in place, falls onto the stone of the pavement. And hundreds of soldiers' sandals simultaneously stamp their steps.
"Hector! Hector! Hector!!!" The roar of the Trojans explodes in my head.
"Hector fights Ajax!!!" Again the same voice shouts from the wall. "Aeneas is with him!"
"For the King!!!" And a new stomping sound merges with the merging clang of shifting shields.
Despite all the headaches, at this point, I clearly understand: there will be no defense. The Trojans themselves have launched an attack!
Dong! Dong! Dong! Wha-a-a-a-a-ah! Dong!
"Bastard!" Iphito, she's not shouting. She's hissing.
It's very close.
I have to get up! Oh! How the world is spinning... Is this heaven or earth? The palms of my hands feel the stone, allowing me to orient myself.
Stand up!
Utis! Stand up!
"Argh!" An Amazon shout, filled with hidden pain, reaches my ears. "I'll still kill you, brother of my enemy!"
And again... Don! Dang! Dong! Whaaaahhhhhh! Dong!
Who is she talking about?
"Your father couldn't handle me, girl. No way you will." That calm man's voice, I've never heard it before.
Utis, get up!
All right, first on your knees... To get a foothold. Yes! I did it.
"Hold on, Iph... I'll be right there," I whisper, knowing she can't hear. "You just hold on."
Where's my bow? Yeah, it's right where it was, behind my back.
Dawn! Dong! Dong! Wha-a-a-a-a-ah! Dong!
"You're weaker than your brother! I'll kill you!"
"Naive, he is the younger brother after all..."
Dan! Dong! Dong! Wha-a-a-a-a-ah! Dong!
Arrow... Arrow... Don't you shake like that! There, well done, my good one, lie down on the bow like that.
Stand up, Utis!
Get up, bloody Gais! Get up!
My legs shook as if all the muscles had been taken out of them and replaced with jelly.
Eyes, what's wrong with you? World! Stop! Don't twist! I said freeze!
Dan! Dong! Dong! Wha-a-a-a-a-ah! Dong!
"And you are strong."
"Shut up!"
Dan! Dong! Dong! Wha-a-a-a-a-ah! Dong!
World, freez!!!
I can finally see properly. I wish my hands weren't shaking and my legs weren't wobbling so much...
Where?
Aha...
Iphito is fighting a tall, no taller than Daas blond man. His armor is even better than mine, and the shield in his hand is so perfect it looks like a mirror.
Are my eyes sure they're OK? Because what I'm seeing - it just can't be, because it can't be at all! Iphito, is she... defensive?!
Yes!
All her skill and prowess, all her fury crashes like mighty waves against unshakable rocks. Her opponent - he is better than her in everything. He is stronger, faster, and even fights better. The Amazon holds on only to her rage, even though she has already received many minor wounds.
She won't stand alone, but she's not alone.
Dong!
I won't miss it!
Without even looking at me, the enemy shifts his shield, and with an exasperated howl, my arrow goes into the dawn sky, unable even to scratch the perfect surface.
And yet, he was distracted, and Iphito realized I was awake.
This immediately changed the pattern of their fight. Now the Amazon was not trying to reach her opponent on her own but was dancing to expose him to my arrows.
But the enemy is not so simple. He moves so that between him and me, there is always Stormbearer. I can't reach him directly, so I send arrows into the stones, and they ricochet into him, but each time they hit his armor, his shield, and his sword. Realizing we won't get anywhere that way, the Amazon changes her plan and tries to pin him against the outer edge of the wall. And she succeeds!
I fire one arrow after another, but they're all reflected by a flawless defense. But we... She's got it. Iphito almost squeezes him off the wall. One more step back, and he falls. Well...
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And he takes that step, but he does not fall, but freezes in the air, as if there were no air under his feet, but solid ground.
You cheating bastard! - I yelled involuntarily, unable to contain my emotions.
The enemy casts a quick glance at me, deflects Iph blow, and with words: "That's enough. I've played enough." He moves upwards to swoop down like a peregrine falcon from the sky on the Amazon.
Аh? A damn glitch user, not a pilgrim!
But no, that's not true. Of course, our enemy is not a cheater. There's no way to cheat like that behind the Arch. He's just Hercules' older paternal brother. The son of Zeus...
Perseus!
And on his feet, the winged sandals of Hermes!
We're lucky he doesn't have his Pegasus, and the Shadow Helmet [*] wasn't given to him behind the Arch. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been a fight. It would have been a massacre.
Again the swords clang, and again I am surprised. Iph, she has stood firm! And now she grins in a bloody grin, laughing in the face of the enemy.
"I've fought ifrites! I will not be intimidated by another flying thing!"
Perseus, as Rick had once done on the jete, flicked his sandals away from my arrow and glanced down at the wall. All his swagger and superiority flickered off his face, his tone changing.
"You will die! You cannot win! We have something to fight for and something to die for!" And with a shout as great as Iphito's, he dives again. "For a new world!"
"I hate it!" The arrow goes flying.
Perseus is no longer soaring. He's down on the wall and coming at me, unleashing blow after blow on the Amazon, who can barely keep up with him. This truly superhuman dodges my arrows like pesky flies. Why am I not Evritus?! And I can't control arrows in flight!
This difference between us and him is staggering. I see firsthand the true power of the Ascendant - a demigod!
"For a new world! No money slavery! No lying politicians! No corrupted media whores! We! Build! It!" Every word is a blow. And it's like he's fueled by his faith. He even seems to grow and become even stronger, though how much more?!
Iph... I can see she's getting weaker. And I. And I am useless...
"You son of a bitch!" I've never shot like that, two arrows at once, but that doesn't stop me.
And still, he fought off that double shot as well, fought it off from ten paces!
But as he hit back, he was forced to deflect a little, and the Amazon, defying her defenses, struck a doubled blow. Her upper lunge was blocked by a shoulder pad, but her lower one slid across her opponent's sword. The Bloodblade cut through one of her sandals and slammed into Perseus' foot, shattering it to the bone.
"Agrgh!" The demigod shrieked back and pushed off, leaping over the wall.
This time his flight was clumsy, he barely stayed in the air, but still managed to bounce my arrow!
"Finish him off..." Iph whispers, turning to me.
The Amazon's emerald eyes fade. A huge wound in her chest. I see her heart beating for the last time.
"I did get him though..."
A dead body at my feet.
Iph... Illea, she's gone...
Odysseus recently said that an act is only a consequence of a decision made. He probably knows better than that. But I wasn't deciding anything at that moment. I just knew.
I knew.
After flying around the tower, Perseus will come back and spit on his wound and kill me.
I knew.
It is no sense now to run to the wall and try to aim him while he is in his uncertain flight. He has already disappeared behind the tower.
I knew.
After killing me, he will strike at Lance or Rick, or Daas.
I knew.
The fight will be lost to us.
I knew.
None of us are coming back from behind the Veil.
I knew.
It's either now or never.
In three leaps, I reach the edge of the wall, and pushing off I jump into the morning sky.
My perfect Bow is my last hope.
I reach out to him with all my heart. Don't let me down!
And the Silver Bow responds to my love and trust. A weapon is so perfect that it even has its own, albeit strange and incomprehensible, soul... A weapon that for centuries has always been number two. It pleases him that, unlike Odysseus and all those who have taken this Face before, I am the one who relies on it far more than the sword. My trust here breaks down the wall of alienation that the Silver Bow has built between himself and his master, who has not even taken him to war! The wall is crumbling, and I realize the true potential of this magnificent weapon! For the first time since Euritus, it has found a true master, and now we are one, the perfect ranged combat unit - an absolute!
The arrow is already lying on the stock.
I am an arrow.
Arrow is me.
Perseus! That's right, he flew over the ledge of the tower and is now gaining altitude to get back on the wall.
With a sharp jolt, I send mу-arrow forward.
The enemy notices my flight, he is surprised, not expecting a shot from this side. But his shield manages to block my shoot..
I won't let you!!!
Not now!
You're not going away!
And I'm the one whose arrow shifts slightly, changing its trajectory.
By a centimeter.
Just that.
But it's enough to miss the edge of the Mirror Shield and enter precisely under the chin.
Perseus... He didn't even realize he had died.
My last thought, before the all-consuming pain of falling from the height of a seven-story building flooded me, was not, I was able to control the flight of the arrow after all! but...
I hate idealists!!!
Pain...
How little I had known about it before that moment!
It's not just thereю Pain consumes all there is.
There is nothing left in the whole universe for me but:
Pain...
My consciousness can't cope with the waves of pain. I can't even scream because my chest is caught in a spasm.
My legs are broken. My ribs - I don't know how many are left intact. The bruises are so numerous that it feels like there isn't a place on my body where they aren't. There was a crumb of teeth left in my mouth, the crumb trying to get into my throat, but I couldn't even spit, for my mouth was open in a voiceless cry.
My consciousness falters, shattering into shards like a broken mirror.
There is no longer a man called Utis. There is a mooing and whimpering animal that tries to rip its own throat open with its own hands just to make it go away:
Pain...
And my animal plea has been heard.
I feel a fleeting touch, a touch that is not tangible, different, inexplicable and I stop feeling my broken body.
My spirit separates from its physical shell and I-soul soars above myself dying.
It is such a pleasure when there is no pain - happiness!
Am I dead?
My question is addressed to no one, and all the more surprising that I get an answer:
You are dying. Someone who dislikes magic and seers has asked for you. One asked that your demise be less painful. I obeyed and complied.
By some unknown knowledge, I realize I am not communicating with ThreeFace or one of his Faces, but with something or someone else.
The world - I see it very differently, much more accessible to me now than if I were looking through my eyes. I can see everything that is going on around me for miles around, just by reaching out and focusing my attention.
The battle, why is it frozen? Why are the two armies facing each other without fighting?
Ah, here's the thing. The Battle of Heroes is underway, and no one dares to intervene. The outcome of the war and the battle for Troy will not be decided by a clash of regiments and armies. It's not up to them. It's up to...
My attention goes to the nearest fighting couple.
Lance versus Ajax the Great.
Many times during the Trojan War, Hector faced this enemy, but each time the course of the battle kept them apart, never allowing them to find out who was stronger.
And now is the opportunity to finally dot all the I's, and no one wants to concede.
Ajax - I've never seen such a powerful man before, not even in the movies. His physical power is not just impressive. It is overwhelming! A mountain that has gained the ability to move and pretends to be human. Jiro would have looked like a schoolboy nerd against him. But strength is not all he has. He is as fast as a Wolverine and has many years of countless battles under his belt.
Ajax pushes, pounding so hard that if the toughest stone was hit, it would shatter. He pushes and pushes, trying to crush, smash, and break.
Except that Lance-Hector is not one to be intimidated or suppressed. He is like mercury, a metal that knows how to flow. The Rock has come into contact with the Water, and all his attempts to crush it go to waste. The waves dance around it, undermining the rocky shores each time. This is not a battle of men or heroes - this is a duel of the Elements.
And it is clear to me that, as in the real world, the water will eventually wash away the shores, and the cliff will collapse into the boundless ocean, leaving only diverging circles in its wake.
But what is it? Why is Lance getting weaker and slower every second? And I can see blood streaming purple from beneath his cuirass down his back and his thighs. Before I can think where the wound is coming from, I already know...
During their breakthrough, before the Trojan army came through the gates, Lance, Rick, and Daas, the three of them, fought against an entire army. They were like a well-coordinated mechanism, a combine harvester that gathers its harvest, an unstoppable, united in three faces death machine. During this fight, a lucky lunge of an already dying completely unknown warrior found its way, and the spearhead struck Lance in the back, passing under the cuirass. Not fatal, but a wound that caused profuse bleeding...
And now my mentor is weakening with every second of the fight. And Ajax... He feels the blood, sees his enemy's movements slow, and the Mountain roars triumphantly, shaking the very earth with his voice.
Lance, realizing he couldn't hold out much longer, turns to attack, and the Mountain falls silent; he has neither the strength nor the time to scream. Even breathing under such a hail of blows poured in from all sides is difficult enough.
I scream, but no one hears my scream. I shout in despair because the Rock has weathered the storm. It has withstood... And a new roar shakes the world...
Under the new blows, Lance drops to one knee first, then both knees. He no longer attacks but simply takes the blows on his shield. Punches that can break a bull in half. This can't go on for long.
And it's not...
With a loud crunch that sent my spirits into overdrive, the blade in Ajax's hand slices Lance's collarbone.
The fight is over, the winner is clear, and Mountain chuckles and topples over his opponent with a kick. He is victorious. The enemy is defeated. Suddenly the sword clutched in Lance's hand soars upwards in a silver swallow and delivers a single blow. It's a weak, slow, ridiculous blow, a lunge that should never have reached its target. But... It does, and the Mountain breaks collapse, settling to the blood-soaked grass.
Two bodies lie side by side.
Two such different heroes are dead.
But the heroes are different, and the swords in their hands are similar.
No, that's not the right word 'similar', it's the same sword.
How can I not believe in fate after that?
After Hector's death, Ajax appropriated his weapons. And when Odysseus drove Ajax mad, he killed himself by throwing himself on the sword. Hector's sword...!
No other blade would have killed Ajax so ludicrously, but it was as if he had not seen Lance's final blow, as if the sword that sought to terminate his life did not exist for him. He didn't see it because it was the weapon that was destined to kill him.
No destiny? Naive fairy tales...
I would weep now, looking at the dead body of my mentor, but the spirit cannot shed tears.
My attention switches, and I see...
Rick, covered by his shield, makes a dragon's tail catch, but his opponent easily evades it by taking a low leap. I am not at all familiar with the enemy my teammate is facing. I can't remember, even from the descriptions, who is up against Descart.
He was taller than average, lean, and wiry as if made of tightly woven ropes. His armor was ridiculous against Aeneas' splendid armor. Some leather straps, small, palm-sized inserts of dark bronze that covered almost nothing. And the sword in his hand, what bronze hastily forged by some inept blacksmith? I'm exaggerating, though; a common Roman gladius, mass-produced. The shield on his left arm was only the size of the palm of his hand, and it would not protect him from arrows or spears.
Also... I, with my heightened senses, do not sense a taste of divine blood in this man. He is an ordinary, normal man, not a Hero in his original sense, not the son, grandson, or even great-grandson of a god.
A man in ridiculous armor, with a weapon that can't stand up to criticism, so why...
"Why is Rick losing?!"
Watching Aeneas' fighting style, I now realize that Runner's style of play - sharp attacks, attacks beyond the foul line - is shaped by contradiction. Aeneas fights differently altogether. He starts with a blind defense. In two or three strikes, Aeneas calculates his opponent's strengths and weaknesses and then strikes. One blow. Always fatal.
But here, as they say, diamond cut diamond. His adversary does not repeat himself. He never does. He changes fighting styles like gloves effortlessly flowing from one to the other quite naturally. He's... I'm speechless. Not long ago, I thought it was impossible to wield a sword cooler than Iphito, but Perseus proved me wrong, but what I see now... It cannot be called mastery, not even a dance, not even a song. Rick's enemy shows a level of combat that cannot be described. It's not just beyond the atmosphere. It's not even cosmic. It's... No... No words... It's perfection, true perfection - sinless. Infallible. It doesn't matter that Descart is stronger, faster, and better armed. It doesn't matter... It's all lost to Absolute.
An ordinary man is outmatched on the battlefield the son of a god.
Ridiculous...
Absurd...
But that's how it is.
Only once with his very first blow was Rick able to wound this foe, cutting him deeply in the thigh. But it felt like that wound had no effect on the enemy.
Who is he?
Who?!
And I realize...
Rick has come together in battle with the leader and mastermind of the Patagonian Rebellion. His name, even centuries later, gave people hope. Hope for a different, fairer life. With his name, they went into hopeless battles. They died. Or triumph. But they did not surrender. A man who became a legend. A symbol. A flag. For years, centuries, millennia...
Spartacus!
And an average man killed the son of a god.
Rick died before my eyes, unable to reach his enemy even once more...
Spartacus tears a piece of cloth from Descart's under-armor toga, bandages his wound tightly, then sets aside his gladius and picks up Aeneas' sword from the ground, then limps slightly, heads off...
Another change of focus...
And I see a strange dance, more like the roundels of some wild aborigines. Ten Daas fighting against two men. Although... You can hardly call it a fight. It's a bit ridiculous! Boss is trying to get at least one of them, and they are circling, now and then, breaking the distance or trying to get closer.
One of them I knew at once: in a snow-white toga, with a triumphant wreath on his head, armed with a long Roman sword and a scutum, he was Scipio the African. I never thought the illustrious strategist wielded a sword, and he did and perfectly! Excellent for a man, of course. He was as far away from Ten or Spartacus as the moon, but he withstands in there. Mostly because Daas paid him little attention, just as Perseus had done to my arrows a short while ago. All the boss's attention was on his second opponent...
A big young man, his muscles are not as big and bulging as Ajax's, but I have no doubt that he would have had no problem bringing him down with one left hand, in one move. And for all that, the man is completely naked! Yes! Not even a loincloth. Where are his Attributes? And why, why is Daas recoiling from him like he is Medusa the Gorgon? And this man, he pushes on and on, and only the tip of the Tear of Thetith staring into his chest stops him. But if Daas shifts his attention to the annoying Scipio for a moment, the naked man immediately tries to get closer.
I can see that Daas is not afraid of his enemies, but he's afraid, that's for sure. There's something about this naked man... Yeah, that's it... Confidence! All his actions literally scream that all he has to do is touch the boss, and the fight will be over instantly. Just a touch! But I don't understand the reason for his confidence, as Daas Achilles is not inferior to him in physical strength! The stranger's hands are not impregnated with venom. He has no power to petrify with his touch... so why is he so sure of himself? And he's not the only one. Ten is also fighting, knowing that to let this strange nudist touch himself is equal to losing.
Once again, I am saved from ignorance by the knowledge that has come out of nowhere.
The name of the naked man is Polydevcus! One of the Dioscours! An ascended and demigod in the original and full sense of the word. The first man who invented the very concept of wrestling. Founder of martial arts as such. As Prometheus brought fire to men, so he brought wrestling. Divine patron of wrestlers and warriors. There is no one in all the world who is better at fighting unarmed than him, except for an apprentice who surpassed his teacher, Hercules...
During another round of their circle, Daas notices the deaths of Lance and Rick, making the only right decision. To finish off his opponents before a third joins them. And he chooses Scipio as his first target. With a cascade of strikes, the boss drives Polydevk away from him, and suddenly with his back to the front, he leaps at the Roman, striking his sword blindly. He doesn't miss. But he miscalculated the force of the blow, the 'Tear' cutting through the toga and into the strategist's chest at the hilt.
I was wrong! Daas was wrong... It wasn't the boss who miscalculated the force of the blow. It was Scipio who deliberately sacrificed himself, throwing himself straight at the blade. And now he falls on his back, clutching at the crossguard of the sword that killed him. In his fading eyes, there is not fear but triumph!
A second, just a second, it took Daas to rip his blade from the dead man's chest with force.
So little...
And so much...
In that instant, Polydevk leaps and collapses with all his weight onto Ten's back, simultaneously knocking the sword out of his hands with a kick. Then with a resounding thud, the straps that held the shield in place were torn, and Daas was left unarmed.
But no, Polydevic celebrated his victory early. Daas is no copy of Achilles. He has learned a lot in his life, including wrestling, which was taught to him by none other than George, the chosen one of Hercules.
This fight is not like a beautiful sword dance. It is different. Body to body, grip to grip, strength to strength, skill to skill. The bodies are intertwined as if the two boa constrictors are fighting over who will choke who.
Why does it have to be like this?!
We could use a little luck!
A slightly different way of entering the fray!
And...
Spartacus would not have been able to show his skill by being killed by my arrow...
Perseus would have faced the Invincible and no amount of winged sandals would have helped him...
A healthy Lance-Hector would have crushed Ajax...
Illea-Iphito would have sliced Polydevk into tiny shreds with a tornado of steel as soon as he put his hand to her...
And Scipio would die in a few seconds, crossing his sword with Rick-Aeneas...
But... Everything wrong!
And once again, for the fourth time today, I'm about to see my teammate die. And Daas will die. It's already clear because Polydevk has caught the boss's neck in a double grip and has already moved into a chokehold.
Bring me back.
Your body has half a minute to live
Bring me back.
There's only pain
BRING ME
BACK
!!!
Okay..." and Arch complies with my request.
And pain again.
Pain and nothing but pain...
I don't exist, there is only pain.
There's nothing but bloody pain...
Although...
There is something else besides pain.
No, not sanity.
Purpose.
And the crooked fingers, still recently tearing the throat, reach out... They only need a little. Half a meter. To reach.
The pain is such that it would stop any man.
But I'm not human, I'm not here.
There is only a PURPOSE!
And bloodied fingers clutch at the Silver Bow.
There is such a word as "must!"
And the arrow lies in its place.
Is it possible to shoot lying down with broken ribs?
Maybe not, but the way I am now, whether something is possible or not.
Except for the Target!
Why does this happen?
The answer is simple.
Because we have to!
Polydevk's lips fold into a smile. He hadn't had a worthy opponent in a long time. For centuries no one had been able to make him sweat and work so hard. It was such a bliss to meet a worthy foe, to meet and kill! He died like that - happy, with an arrow right in the bridge of his nose.
The last thing I see before a blissful Darkness comes over me...
On staggering legs, Daas rises and, bending over, picks up the Tear, turning around to face the last enemy.
Dying, I know he cannot lose.
He is not fighting for lofty ideals.
He is the man who raised his sword in defense of his beloved.
A father who would give his life for his child.
He can't lose...
Otherwise, there is something deeply wrong with this universe...
* * *