Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

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Swoosh—

To the west of the Aigaleo Mountains, a vast wasteland.

The sound of the wind howled, rustling flags and fallen leaves.

The cold early winter wind lashed at the soldiers' faces. It must be said that this was not an ideal season for dispatching troops.

Yet, the mythological era was inherently different, and many rules of later generations could not be applied here.

So, as long as logistics were secured, the morale in this camp was quite passable.

Especially since not long ago, Mycenae's main force had finally arrived here, and leading them was none other than the hero renowned across all countries, Agamemnon (Ἀγαμέμνων, meaning "steadfast").

In his prime, the king punished the vanguard officer, ordering him to be a death-seeker in the future battles; he would be forgiven only if he survived three times.

Then he reorganized military affairs, planned the future positions of the arriving countries, and invited Odysseus and the leaders of Argos to a banquet.

At the banquet, Agamemnon candidly admitted his misjudgment in employing the wrong person but also angrily rebuked the Athenians' treachery.

In this back-and-forth, the initial defeat seemed to have been glossed over, and everything appeared to return to normal.

"It seems the world's praise of him is not unfounded; Agamemnon indeed has some capability."

Standing on a high slope observing the camp, Odysseus praised.

Compared to the previous vanguard officer, the camp personally organized by Agamemnon appeared much more orderly.

Especially the various covert and overt sentries, which could maximally prevent sneak attacks.

Perhaps in later generations, this would be a basic skill for a commander; but in this era, it was already considered superb military talent.

"And what about you, will you just watch him assume the position of the alliance's commander and arrange various affairs?"

Mode had raised this issue more than once. Since the main force of Mycenae arrived, he subtly suggested more than once that Odysseus compete for leadership.

However, to Mode's disappointment, Odysseus had done nothing from start to finish, as if he had tacitly accepted the other's leadership.

"What's the rush? The entire alliance hasn't arrived yet. Why make an early move?"

Odysseus shook his head lightly, unconcerned.

Yet seeing his friend still somewhat unconvinced, he explained a bit more.

"I know what you want to say. If I consent, it will weaken my fame, and it will be harder to strive for power later… But, Mode, I do not think Athenian tactics end there."

"...Alliance...Alliance... Even when everyone arrives, can we truly unite?"

With a tone carrying an inexplicable emotion, Odysseus knew Mode couldn't understand but didn't continue.

It wasn't that he didn't want to explain; it was just that he noticed the camp below suddenly becoming chaotic.

Soldiers exited their tents, appearing alarmed as if facing a great enemy; even Agamemnon emerged from the central tent in his armor.

Judging by the stance, it seemed as if they were bracing for a major battle.

"Hmm?"

"What is happening?"

Somewhat strange, mostly bewildered.

After all, being in a commanding position, Odysseus was sure there were no signs of external attack nearby.

With no enemy yet gathering troops, what had happened to cause such commotion?

"Odysseus, look!"

Mode suddenly spoke, and Odysseus followed the sound.

At a distance several arm-lengths from the camp, it seemed a figure was approaching.

The visitor wielded a spear, unarmored, yet Odysseus inexplicably felt as though he were facing a formidable opponent.

It was a mental alert, and this strange presence undoubtedly was a rare, powerful demigod of the current age.

At least in personal martial prowess, even without crossing swords, Odysseus was certain he was not a match.

"Who is he?" Odysseus asked. This person was unknown, yet intercepted outside the alliance's camp.

What was his purpose? Was he a helper summoned by the Athenians?

Various speculations surged in his mind, but before the equally bewildered Mode could respond, Odysseus heard the arrival's voice, loud enough to carry for miles.

He didn't seem to regard the hundred thousand troops at all; the so-called dignity of the countries was insignificant to him.

He simply stood there, challenging anyone who might respond to him.

"Alliance Army of All Countries?"

"Ridiculous."

Laughing coldly, he surveyed the chaotic camp caused by his arrival, and the young hero shouted.

"Are you preparing to attack Athens?"

"Come—"

"Achilles is here..."

"Who dares to fight me!"