Soon, we found one of the villages.
"What brings you here?" asked an old man he seemed to be the elder of the settlement.
"We need food," I replied.
"We have none left. First, we gave most of our supplies to the Spartan army. Then they came back and took everything else they could carry. Now we're starving ourselves," he said, lowering his gaze.
"I understand. We're not here to take everything. Just enough to keep going," I said calmly, trying to speak with respect.
The old man was silent for a long while. It seemed he was weighing everything he had seen and endured these past few days.
"We can offer only barley cakes," he finally said.
"That will be enough. Have you seen any other units lately? Soldiers passing through the village?"
"No. The last ones to pass were the men gathering food."
"I see. Prepare the cakes and give us some clean water. We'll take nothing more from your village," I said.
We settled in the village for a short rest. The food was far from luxurious, but every Spartan ate it with a hunger that made it taste like a feast. The cake was roughly made from barley, water, and some bitter herbs. After swallowing the last bite, I stood. We couldn't waste another moment. We'd rested enough it was time to return. There was no time left to keep searching.
I managed to find and gather the remnants of other units around four hundred warriors in total. It was a tragically small number, but better than nothing. The Athenians wouldn't be able to maintain a siege for long if our forces hit them from behind. They would be forced to choose: either spread their forces thin across two fronts or retreat. But we weren't planning to engage them in a direct fight. We would feign an attack then vanish into the forest and ambush them there.
After giving the men a brief rest, I ordered the march toward the main rally point. Fortunately, a few locals were with me people who knew the roads. Everything I knew in life was Sparta and the training grounds.
On the way to Kephalas, I saw what was left of it. Scorched earth. Empty homes. Bodies hanging from trees. The Athenian army had passed through burning, looting, erasing everything in its path.
Not far from the village ruins, I spotted a camp. When I saw familiar faces, I realized these were our forces. For a moment, I thought the gods might actually be on our side. The number of people gathered there gave me a flicker of hope.
I headed straight to Kratos.
"I brought four hundred warriors," I said.
"I see. Any trouble?" Kratos asked.
"No. What happened?"
"The Helots rebelled. I had to kill them all. We lost about three hundred both theirs and ours," Kratos answered, his voice devoid of emotion. There was no room for sorrow now. Only resolve.
"What now?" I asked.
"You'll lead the entomotia in battle. Your task is to lure the enemy forces away. We'll strike from the other flank," Kratos said and turned away without waiting for my reply.
What did that mean? Was I leading a suicide squad? Maybe he hated me. But then again probably not. If he wanted me dead, he would've just left me on the front line. I understood why he chose me. Commanders are trained from childhood, placed at the head of their agelai and it seemed I was the only one left.
There were fewer than two hundred true Spartans left. The main army needed every commander it could get. Without leadership, the Perioikoi and Helots would scatter.
After the food was distributed, I sat down beneath a tree and stared at my calloused hands. My skin was rough, scratched, covered in hardened patches.
I spoke with a few Perioikoi who had failed their trials. And I realized they sometimes had more freedom than we Spartans did. Even after twenty years of training, we spent another ten bound to duty, serving in the camps with no rights. And then the rest of our lives under strict control and constant restrictions.
The Perioikoi, though technically of lower status, seemed far freer. How ironic. Their lives were worth less but the law always stood with the Spartan.
"Foolish thoughts," I muttered into the void. For the first time, I wondered was it even worth remaining a Spartan? The only one keeping me tethered was Damipp. He had been like a brother to me all these years. Should I abandon him and walk away? That would be betrayal. It was too much to think about. And maybe… it was too early to think at all. Who knows if I'll survive the coming battle?
With a rare moment of peace, I thought to myself: What would my stats even look like right now?
*
Name: Damocles
Age: 16
Strength (Raw physical power): 15
Agility (Speed, reflexes, evasion): 12
Endurance (Resistance to fatigue, wounds, illness): 17
Intellect (Comprehension, learning, languages): 11
Charisma (Leadership, inspiration, eloquence): 10
Defense (Armor, physical resilience): 18
Talents
Son of Sparta – +1 to all base attributes.Born and forged in the crucible of Spartan discipline.
Evasion 14% -You have a chance to avoid a fatal blow. Your body has endured many wounds that could have ended your life. Over time, your instincts have adapted to recognize and react to threats instantly.
David - If your opponent is stronger than you, you gain a 10% bonus to all attributes. You thrive when the odds are against you.
Stubborn as Stone – +3 to Defense.Wounds do not shake you. Pain becomes background noise. Bleeding is reduced by 20%. You stand strong, even before overwhelming force.
Fleeting Shadow - Your stealth is increased by 20%. Your movements are fluid, silent like a passing shadow in the night.
Cunning of Hellas - Deception comes easily. Having survived countless intrigues, you've learned to adapt, manipulate, and find your way out of impossible situations.
Warden of the Forest - You navigate forests with ease, make fires without effort, and find food in the wild. It is easier for you to remain unseen amidst trees and undergrowth.
Born of War - +2 proficiency levels in any skill related to combat, warfare, or battle. The battlefield is your true home.
Abilities
Immunity to Disease (Passive) - Upon infection, temporarily increases Endurance by +3.
Combat Mastery, Level 10 (Passive) - Increases Agility and Endurance by 14% during combat. Enhances attacks, highlights enemy weaknesses, improves defense and counterattacks.
Swordsmanship, Level 8 - Your skill with a sword is commendable.
Spear Mastery, Level 12 -Your skill with a spear is well-trained and reliable.
Furious Tempest - A lightning-fast series of three spear strikes. 30% armor penetration.(Progressed thanks to the Born of War talent.)
Spartan Phalanx (Active, when near allies) - Increases all attributes by 30%. Within the phalanx, you are not a single warrior you are the front of a living wall of steel.
*
For those wondering:
Why didn't they simply wait for reinforcements before engaging in battle?
The answer is simple: the battleground held strategic significance. It was a narrow pass between the mountains where the enemy's numerical advantage meant little. Here, a few could hold back many.
To fight in open plains, where six thousand would face nine thousand elite enemy warriors, would be suicide.
Their goal was not victory but delay. A ghost of a chance. Desperate, but vital.
Around Sparta lay fertile lands fields that fed the entire population. If the enemy broke through and razed them, Sparta would fall to famine. Trade was scarce; they relied almost solely on themselves.