The Greece Antagonist-Chapter 738 - 142 Teammates Must Die_2

Chapter 738: Chapter 142: Teammates Must Die!_2 Chapter 738: Chapter 142: Teammates Must Die!_2 However, the long spears and war blades thrust by the Mycenaean vassal army and slaves dulled upon striking the bronze armor of the Trojan stalwarts, activated with dense runes on their surface, along with the divine blood pulsing within the soldiers like the rhythm of the tides, numbing the arms of their assailants, some of whom staggered and fell from the city walls.

Divine Blood Guard! The Trojans had actually hidden a batch of Divine Blood Guards on the wall!

Upon reaching the city wall, the vassal army and slaves were dumbstruck, and in a moment of bewilderment, wave after wave of their comrades were punctured into sieves by incoming long spears.

The sight of fresh blood spilling and limbs flying instantly extinguished the fire of courage within the chests of the vassals and slaves.

In the world of the Divine Era, the gap between regular and elite troops was vast, and numbers could not make up for it.

Thus, with these Divine Blood Guards present, they simply had no way to occupy the ramparts.

Realizing the futility, the disheartened vassal army and slaves fled in disarray.

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As for the hundred-odd vassal soldiers and slaves left on the city top, they cursed silently as they watched their comrades flee like the tide.

But at this moment, they had little time to reproach their dishonorable teammates, as surrounding Trojans, gripping sharp long spears, began to form up and thrust at them.

Garrison Commander Hector employed the famed “Greek Spear Formation,” characterized by a shield wall composed of large shields and protruding long spears continuously stabbing out, excelling in defense and attack in confined areas.

“No mercy! No prisoners!”

The leading Trojan officer roared and his spear pierced through a vassal soldier, with the following troops methodically closing the encirclement.

As their range of movement became smaller, the frontline vassals with nowhere to hide were cut down like slicing vegetables, while the dominant Trojans ruthlessly and decisively dispatched any struggling wounded on the ground and pushed forward relentlessly.

The vassals may have been willing to resist, but their meager shields and short spears were no match for the killing machine in motion, and the isolated detachment left on the city top quickly succumbed to the slaughter of the Greek Spear Formation.

The first wave of the siege, the Mycenaean side, had sacrificed several thousand vassal soldiers and slaves.

Yet, there was not the slightest concern on King Agamemnon’s face, as if he had merely witnessed the death of a few ants.

After all, Mycenae had numerous subordinate city-states, and such limited-combat-capable vassal soldiers and slaves could always be replenished at any time.

Moreover, their death was not without value, as his true blade had now been thrust at the Trojans’ heart.

King Agamemnon curved his lips into a sinister smile as he gazed towards the battlefield ahead, where a stream of red-black mud had moved unnoticed to the front of the Troy city walls, surging upward from the ground, drawing in scattered limbs and flesh to coalesce into a twisted and ferocious monster under watchful eyes.

“Boom!”

With a powerful fist, the monster smashed half of the closed gates of Troy, revealing a dark corridor.

This was bad!

Feeling a sudden strong tremor beneath his feet, Hector’s face changed color as he quickly grabbed his spear and shield and bellowed,

“Divine Blood Guard, follow me to plug that breach!”

Simultaneously, King Agamemnon, who had been waiting, reacted with a sinister grin, swinging his sword towards the front.

“Attack!”

At his command, the elite Divine Blood Guard, too, charged after their king towards the breached gate.

Trojan archers, spear throwers, priests, and mages atop the city wall all made their moves, trying to buy Prince Hector time to react.

However, neither the rain of arrows and javelins nor the dense cursed bullets and ether light flow could harm King Agamemnon in the slightest.

Not that he was invincible, but he was followed by several monsters formed from red-black dirt.

These nameless entities possessed terrifying combat strength and knocked down the meteoric rain of arrows, javelins, and magical attacks.

At this moment, Luo En, standing in the cabin and watching the battle, narrowed his eyes.

It was indeed these things! The mud puppets created by Pandora!

It seemed that Mycenae’s expansion to its current size owed much to the efforts of the Catastrophe Witch behind the scenes.

King Agamemnon most likely had a secret connection to Pandora and could even summon so many Disaster Mud Puppets; that Catastrophe Witch might very well be in the Mycenaean camp.

If that’s the case, then I should add more fuel to the fire.

Luo En’s gaze flickered slightly as he looked up at a certain section of the Troy City Wall, behind him, the golden wheel simultaneously turned to the ninth slot.

Decent talent, I choose you.

At the same time, a majestic White Horse broke away from the wheel, transforming into a strand of golden light, stealthily drilling into the brow of a figure on the wall.

In an instant, Cassandra, who was anxiously looking towards the city gate, staggered as something seemed to explode in her brain. The high-pitched neighing of warhorses rang in her ears; endless light and heat accompanied the White Horse’s gallop, scattering to every corner of the Mortal World.

As a Temple Priestess of Apollo, the girl was blessed with inspiration and empted her mind, raising the magic wand in her hand and solemnly chanting:

“From light it originates, of might and flame, enforced by sword, scorched by fire—I command thee, manifest the light!”

In a flash, streams of white light like sharp swords burst forth from Cassandra’s magic wand, slicing through several red-and-black humanoid monsters in the Mycenaean camp like a knife through butter, incinerating them into dissipating wisps of blue smoke.

At this moment, King Agamemnon, who was urgently galloping toward the city gate, saw this scene and his face turned pale.

What’s going on? Where are my Divine Guards?

After repeated calls went unanswered, Agamemnon’s complexion grew even worse; he looked up at the Troy Priestess radiating divine light on the wall and a strong sense of fear and the urge to retreat surged in his heart.

That woman is not right! Retreat!

However, the fear of soldiers becomes the bravery of warriors.

Just as Agamemnon turned his horse to halt the attack, every one of his Divine Blood Guards, with him as their standard, also stumbled into brief chaos amidst screeching halts.

Opportunity!

At the same time, Hector, who was leading the Divine Blood Guard to block the breach in the city gate, saw this and his eyes lit up. He decisively abandoned his defense, mounted a horse, gathered his elite troops to rush out of the city gate, tearing through the outskirts of the Mycenaean army like a sharp spearhead, heading directly for the central position of Agamemnon.

At this point, Agamemnon had two options: One was to show his mettle and courage to restabilize the formation on the spot, using the numerical advantage to wear down the vigor of this isolated Trojan force and then surround and annihilate them.

Of course, this required him to put his own life on the table and measure against Troy’s Guardian—who lived longer, who was stronger.

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But after seeing his elite Divine Blood Guards getting cut down like slicing through melons, Agamemnon’s heart trembled, and without hesitation, he turned his horse and chose the second path:

“Retreat!”

With this military order shouted, the morale of the Mycenaean army plummeted immediately; they all dodged away from Hector and the Trojans’ sharpness and headed back to their camp.

Thus, what began as a ferocious attack ended in a fizzle and a rout.

After a hundred elite soldiers had been killed or injured, Agamemnon finally led the remnants of his army back to the safety of their area shamefacedly.

Hector, looking at the Alliance’s densely flagged camp in the distance, sensing the faint and obscure aura within, also gave up the pursuit, prudently deciding to accept the victory and return with the Divine Blood Guard to Troy, to hurriedly repair the damaged city gate.

The Trojan squads on patrol outside assumed the posture of victors, calmly stripping the enemy’s armor and collecting the spoils of war, bringing back these honors and achievements to the city, eliciting deafening cheers from the soldiers within.

If all the Greeks were such blustering cowards, they had nothing to fear.

Fight for another five years, ten years—Troy would still be Troy and would not fall!

However, unlike the blind optimism of those around her, Cassandra, who had miraculously driven back the Mycenaean army just moments ago, stared at her own hands deep in thought.

Who was helping me just now?

Could it be—Apollo has returned?

But why is he on the other side?

The Priestess lifted her head to gaze upon the Greek camp amassed beyond the city, furrowing her brows deeply.