Chapter 220
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 220
Chapter Title: The Trail of Victory
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Mount Taygetus, Atalanta's army camp.
"How's the situation to the east, around Thespiae?"
"Zetes and Karyklo checked on Thespiae's detached force camp and linked up with the other pursuit units to intercept them."
"King Iasos is still hunkered down in Tegea as of now. But just like you said, Jason, Thespiae doesn't seem interested in joining Tegea."
A massive map depicting the vast geography of Arcadia sprawled out before them.
Gazing down at it, Jason was lost in deep thought.
Thespiae was a rising military power, forged by the warrior Thespios who had united the influential factions around Mount Helicon.
Built from Thespios—renowned as a mercenary—and his elite warriors, Thespiae had absorbed neighboring small states one by one on the strength of its formidable army, its blade always pointed toward Arcadia's fertile lands.
"They've probably got the justification now that Tegea and the Arcadian forces are neutralized. They're planning to slowly nibble away at Arcadia."
"So what do we do? While Heracles and Atalanta are tied up with the Aloadae, should we keep pushing forward?"
Ereanea, vice commander of the Atalanta warrior unit, pointed at the red encampment advancing from the east and urged a preemptive strike.
But Jason shook his head at her words.
"We could end up getting flanked by Tegea and Thespiae forces. Plus, our supply lines are shaky."
A short while ago, while they were training as usual, a pair of ravens had appeared before Jason and Ereanea.
Familiar black aura familiars that Dianes often employed.
Confirming their identities, it relayed what they had seen and heard passing through Tegea, and what Dianes was preparing for them.
The moment they heard the familiar's message: cross the Taygetus Mountains, set up main camp near Tegea, coordinate with Peleus to pressure Iasos.
And at the end of it all, crown Atalanta as Arcadia's queen, turning Arcadia into a kingdom and stronghold for their lesser heroes.
The Phaesacians and Atalanta warriors, having heard that much, rejoiced at the chance to prove themselves like Achis had against Polyphemus in their recent close battle.
Chiron, receiving Dianes's other message, had also permitted their march.
There was no longer any reason to block their path in the mortal world, now to be completed not by his own hand, but by another lord's.
Under the harsh guidance of Dianes and Ares, they had honed their swords and steps. They swiftly traversed the Taygetus range, with Atalanta's warrior unit joining Tegea's main camp shortly after.
As per Dianes's instructions, a merchant named Peleus welcomed them, and seeing the people's hearts turning from Iasos, welcoming Atalanta and Dianes's heroes like saviors, Jason anticipated an easy victory.
From the start, Heracles, Atalanta, and Dianes had neutralized most of the Arcadian army camped in the Taygetus without them needing to lift a finger, taking them prisoner.
With the people on their side for supplies and intel, they figured they just needed to manage public sentiment and clean up the surroundings until Dianes's group returned... their tension easing completely.
"Puhuhu..."
"Jason?"
"Ah, sorry, Ereanea. Just found it funny. The Moirae are spinning quite the entertaining thread."
Then, out of nowhere, Poseidon's twins, the Aloadae, had stormed into Tegea.
For some reason, these monstrous giants—who even outmatched Orion in raw power—were leading Thespiae's army straight toward Tegea.
Iasos had sent Zetes and Karyklo as envoys to explain their position and Tegea's situation, urging a retreat.
But Thespios just scoffed and presented a march permit and call to arms stamped with Iasos's seal.
'Foolish Iasos. Why would Thespiae, of all nations, jump into someone else's succession war over a scrap of land?'
With the Aloadae declaring they would punish Atalanta by enslaving her for destroying their temple, and execute Dianes as the instigator, the situation had escalated to its peak.
"The Aloadae front is fine for now. Heracles and Atalanta handled it."
The two great heroes had clashed with the Aloadae immediately, without even time for greetings.
Thanks to them, Jason and the Phaesacians could support Atalanta's warriors—who were being pushed back due to lack of numbers—and hold off Thespiae.
Arcadia's crumbling front lines stabilized in just one day.
"But that's as far as it goes."
They were heroes, each one a match for an entire unit, wielding magic and martial arts beyond mortal imagination.
Yet the enemy, though individually weaker than the heroes, outnumbered them several times over.
With the Aloadae tying down their asymmetric power...
Now it was time for the heroes' strategist, Jason, to shine.
Strategists converse through stratagems.
Thespios had answered Jason's withdrawal request with one of his own.
"Thespios was probably mocking me."
While the Phaesacians faced the Aloadae, Atalanta's warriors charged Thespiae like lionesses on the hunt.
But despite their personal prowess and forces, they were repeatedly toyed with by Thespiae's guerrilla tactics, abandoning direct confrontation.
Thespios had declared:
"No matter if they carry divine blood, greenhorns fresh to the world can't beat true veterans of war."
Atalanta's warriors, each a match for ten in magic and martial arts thanks to rigorous training.
Watching Thespios's stratagems toy with and pressure those female warriors—even as they faced the Aloadae—Jason could almost hear Thespios's mocking laughter.
"But Thespios made one critical mistake."
"Yeah, a huge one."
A wolf with the fox's cunning and the serpent's slyness.
The lord of Thespiae.
The Mercenary King Thespios.
Jason was impressed by Thespios's troop selections and strategies, but even he had committed one fatal error.
Underestimating the heroes' power.
"Right, I'm still short on real combat experience. I've studied hard, but that's it."
But the current lesser heroes more than compensated for Jason's shortcomings—they were stronger than any era before.
"Honestly, calling it a stratagem or military tactic feels a bit ridiculous..."
"If it's usable, use it appropriately. Phessilenis was grateful; it gave her a breather."
No catastrophes like captures or casualties occurred, but the Atalanta warriors returned from every skirmish with losses.
Witnessing that—even while facing the Aloadae—Jason devised a counter for Thespiae.
"Reverse guerrilla warfare... Haha, it never would've worked in a proper fight."
The enemy recognizes the power gap and tries to wear them down with guerrillas?
But underestimates them as naive?
Jason ruthlessly exploited that blind spot.
As Thespiae's guerrilla discipline began to falter.
Using intel gathered by the wind sons— the finest scouts—sacrificing sleep: Thespiae's advance speed, guerrilla armament, supply lines.
Jason calculated relentlessly.
Atalanta's warriors endlessly retreated, drawing pursuit.
Facing a famed foe, you're overwhelmed by reputation at first—but victory swells the ego.
The Atalanta warriors, once feared for divine blood, now dismissed in Thespiae minds as mere women.
That's when Thespiae spotted them.
Atalanta warriors seemingly lax, encamped around mountain springs and streams.
Licking their chops at the sight of the women at rest, they gathered their full guerrilla force and charged.
Lust, greed, and arrogance blinded them.
No matter their soldier guises, they were mercenaries who once lived by desire.
Continued victories and fleeing beautiful warriors made them fearless.
But they didn't know.
In the heroes' woods, beauty meant rich divine blood—and for Atalanta's unit, beauty equaled power.
Thespiae guerrillas lunged, driven by desire to ravage these divine-blooded women.
Fifteen battalions total, around a thousand men—but fewer than fifty survived.
Less than two hundred female warriors crushed a force five times their size without a single casualty.
Thespios, having committed most troops minus garrisons to guerrillas, took a massive hit and had to fall back.
Atalanta's warriors, unburdened by supply worries, savagely tore into their rear like vengeance unleashed.
"And now we'll have the Phaesacians join in, forcing Thespiae to retreat all the way to Wolf King's Valley."
Wolf King's Valley.
Once an Arcadian stronghold blocking Thespiae invasions, now subjugated and turned against Tegea—a land of tragedy.
The lofty fortress atop the mountains overlooked the valley and range toward Thespiae; advancing there meant arrow storms.
"But hilariously, that's not the issue now."
Even Jason, leader of the golden generation heroes, was racking his brains over them.
Monstrous heroes who mocked any stratagem, warrior, or army.
They were the real problem.
"The Aloadae versus the great heroes. Their outcome decides the war."
Thespios was waiting.
For the Aloadae to crush Heracles and Atalanta, forcing the justification-less foes into the woods.
Or for the unarmed giants to encircle and annihilate their army.
While waiting, Thespios had fallen back to the valley fortress, persistently scouting the situation.
"...Atalanta will win, right?"
"Honestly, imagining Heracles losing is tough..."
Hadn't they already witnessed it?
The great hero flashing lightning against the abyssal tidal wave.
The red shooting star of a warriorwoman advancing bravely against that colossal wave.
For Jason and Ereanea, who had beheld those great heroes' divinity, imagining their defeat was hard.
But the Aloadae were terrifying too—no room for optimism, just frustration.
"But... we need certainty. Real certainty."
A fog-like unease crept in.
As a strategist, anxiety crawled up his spine.
-Shwaaaaa!
"...Rain's coming down hard."
"Yeah. This harvest will be bountiful. Demeter'll be pleased."
Jason and Ereanea peered out as cool rain drummed the tent.
-Kwarung!
"Whoa, Zeus cheering for his son?"
"....."
Jason quipped at the earth-shaking thunder, but Ereanea silently stared outside.
"What is it, Ereanea? Scared or...?"
"...No, wait."
Jason chuckled teasing Aphrodite's daughter, but she raised a hand to silence him.
-!
Then Jason sensed it too—an unnatural presence.
'When did they get here?!'
Despite the rain, this was the Phaesacian main camp.
All swordsmen slept for tomorrow's forced march; soldiers or envoys would have announced themselves.
Yet the unknown presence reached the tent flap silently.
'...Assassin?'
As the thought hit, they reached for sword and staff—but quicker, the flap parted.
"Jason, aren't you a bit too relaxed?"
"...Huh?"
A man strode in casually, face nonchalant.
His sudden appearance froze Jason and Ereanea like facing Medusa.
"Di, Dianes?!"
"Yeah, I'm back. Everyone okay, no injuries?"
Black-blue, black waves.
The great hero who led them here flicked back wet hair with a grin.