Born of war, as expected, he emerged after reaching the tenth level of combat mastery. The armor penetration skill intrigued me. Finding a stone nearby, I activated the skill on it. The spear, after a couple of swift strikes, left deep holes on its surface.
It was surprising how much easier it had become — now the blade cut through as if the solid stone before me wasn't solid at all.
All my stats and abilities screamed one truth: I was meant to be a warrior.
And really, how else could one survive in this world?
I'm not surprised Kratos turned so grim and brutal. When your whole life is combat and bloodshed, your heart hardens, and your mind begins to twist. The final tragedy that erased the last of his humanity was the death of his family. To be a warrior means walking the edge, living in constant anticipation of death.
Tomorrow will be a hard day. I should rest at least a little.
***********************
My steps were just as silent. The blade in my hand glinted slightly in the daylight. I crept up on an Athenian scout and clamped a hand over his mouth at the same instant, my blade pierced his throat. He thrashed, tried to break free, but quickly went limp and slumped to the ground. I dragged his body into the thick underbrush.
One of the other scouts must've heard something. He moved in my direction. I didn't hide I stood up to my full height. He spotted me immediately and was about to cry out, but a shadow appeared behind him, silent as death. A hand clamped over his mouth, and a blade found his throat.
Years spent in the camps had made us more than warriors we'd become excellent killers, if we chose to be. The Spartans hunted us like beasts. And if they caught us... well, the fate wasn't worth thinking about. We had to become ghosts melt into shadows, move unseen and unheard. To hunt under such conditions, one had to be silent, swift, and merciless. Let no prey escape. Reveal nothing.
Striking from behind went against the Spartan code of honor.
But right now, we had no choice. We had come to a single conclusion: kill quickly, kill silently. Not a single one of them could raise the alarm.
We carried out reconnaissance and quickly realized the siege had already begun. Part of the Athenian army had scattered across Spartan lands, looting and pillaging villages. The rest gathered at the city, laying siege. Sparta's walls still stood, but it was clear they wouldn't last long. We couldn't wait. We had to act.
Through the forest undergrowth, we moved like shadows. Along the way, we intercepted and eliminated enemy scouts no one could know we were here. Our task was simple and deadly: strike suddenly, sow chaos, draw them into battle, and retreat immediately.
My mission was to lure part of their forces away. With a small squad, we would strike first, forcing the enemy to pursue. Once they committed significant forces to the chase, our main army would strike their flank.
We cleared the patrols and reached the camp. Luck was with us the Athenians had no siege engines, only ladders and a thirst to break down walls by brute force.
"Spear formation!" I ordered.
Our squad tightened into a sharp triangle. I stood at the front. One deep breath and we charged.
There were no sentries. They had clearly relied entirely on their scouts and patrols a mistake. Their focus was on Sparta's walls, where they believed the main battle was unfolding.
As I reached the first soldiers who hadn't even noticed us I spotted food wagons.
"Burn the food and tents!" I barked, driving an enemy spear into the nearest soldier's throat.
What luck we had stumbled upon their food supply. We quickly dispatched the guards. While the others set fire to the wagons and tent coverings, I saw movement the enemy realized we had come in from behind.
Officers were shouting, rousing soldiers. Alarms spread through the camp.
The flames were growing, but I couldn't let them be extinguished. We had to buy time.
"Form a phalanx!" I roared.
The squad reacted instantly. Shields locked, spears leveled forward. We stood like a wall.
The Athenian soldiers stopped in front of us, uncertain. They didn't dare attack our spears kept them at bay.
Step by step, we began retreating toward the forest. The main goal was not to let them surround us not to let them come around from behind. We had to scatter them. Distract them.
I gripped my spear, stepped forward, and hurled it straight at the officer barking orders. He tried to raise his shield too late. The spear pierced through the wood, drove into his eye, and burst out the back, shattering his skull.
"To the forest! Fall back!" I shouted while they were still without command.
We regrouped quickly and bolted into the underbrush, shields raised behind us to catch arrows.
Speed and surprise were on our side. We broke away before the enemy could respond properly.
"Slow down," I ordered. "We can't let them lose sight of us."
Let them believe the hunt was still on.
I didn't know how many soldiers were chasing us, but it was clear there were a lot. I led the squad to a spot I'd prepared in advance. At last, all that experience hunting in the forests paid off.
There was only one safe path, marked with stones. Everything else was death pits lined with sharpened stakes, hidden under leaves, moss, and branches.
"Argh!" one of the Spartans grunted and fell. I rushed to him and helped him to his feet.
An arrow had sunk deep into his calf.
"Leave me… I'll slow you down," he rasped.
"No. We're almost there," I answered curtly, never slowing.
Arrows still whistled through the air. The Athenians knew they wouldn't catch us, but they still hoped to take down a few.
At last, I spotted the familiar flat stone by the path our signal.
We veered sharply. Everyone already knew the route, and in single file, we crossed the safe strip.
"Spread out," I ordered.
We circled around the traps and disappeared into the thickets. I helped the wounded man take cover behind a thick tree trunk, then crouched beside him, watching as enemy soldiers drew closer.
The Spartans had scattered across the forest, hidden behind wide, sturdy trees. We took up positions so that we couldn't be seen from any angle. If the enemy realized we'd stopped, they might suspect a trap.
But there was a trick to this ambush. The first row of stake pits wouldn't trigger on their own. Hidden warriors nearby had to cut the supports at the right moment, causing the earth to collapse beneath the enemy's feet.
The enemy entered the first trap zone. Then, as they stepped onto the second, the traps were triggered. Soldiers fell into the pits some, trying to save themselves, grabbed at their comrades and dragged them down as well. Cries rang out. Bones cracked.
A dishonorable tactic unworthy of a Spartan. But this wasn't about honor. This was about victory.
Maybe I'd earn a shameful nickname for this. Maybe they'd expel me from the army.
Or maybe not.
"Attack!" I yelled.
Most of the traps had gone off. I was confident in my men. The rest of the route had only scattered pits on the edges. The center was clear.
When the enemy realized they'd walked into a trap, they tried to retreat but stumbled back into the first line of traps. Panic swept through their ranks. This was our moment.
But even amid the chaos, they remained veterans. Fear surged through their lines, but they didn't flee. They gathered themselves. They had only one choice: either they die or we do.