Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 514: 515 battlefield honor

Chapter 514: 515 battlefield honor

Chapter 514 515. Honor on the battlefield

On the cliff, the outline of the Spartan camp was traced by a circle of lighted torches. The sentry stood at his post expressionlessly, always alert.

And some mountain people were sitting on trees and on the highlands in the countryside. They were professional harpooneers and peripheral night watchmen. Although they were not pure Spartan citizens, they were still respected as soldiers.

The Spartan soldiers in the camp sat by the fire, letting out dull laughter from time to time. Or sipping the pitifully thin black broth from their curzon pots, or sharpening the blades of their spears.

Several others were naked, while their slaves carefully anointed their strong but hungry bodies and scrubbed away the dirt with scrapers.

Stantor was sitting by the fire in the center of the camp, exhausted, hungry, and a little restless. Unable to sleep, he got up from the darkness and took several other insomniac soldiers to the fire, hoping to kill time and spend the night. "Sing me a song from Tyrtaeus," he muttered. "I want to hear his war song."

The two soldiers who were Spartan citizens sitting opposite him coughed, cleared their throats, and then sang a war song written by the greatest Spartan poet three hundred years ago in the worst possible voice.

This is a rare achievement that the Spartans showed in the field of art. The Athenians even found this ridiculous at the time, because they believed that the Spartans had never valued art before and would never value it in the future.

They will only use weapons to take away lives, nothing more.

But now Stantor's face was so depressed that he quickly stopped the singing soldiers and said: "Stop singing. Stop before the ghost of the great man rises from the underworld and rips out your tongues. Stop singing." Sung."

He stared down at the Adrestia, which clung to the shore like a limpet. The annoying mercenary had been here for nearly two weeks.

She did a good job, but she had obviously received formal Spartan training, and now she was mixing mercenary fighting tactics with no glory.

This makes Stantor dislike her no matter what.

But no matter what, there are worse problems to face right now.

The growing rumors were accurate. Pericles of Athens sent a powerful force of heavy infantry south in an attempt to break Spartan control of the land. Soon the Spartan legions were Will march north to meet the enemy.

Sparta's allies had been summoned to prepare for war.

Some people in the military camp talked about the heroes of Athens, others talked about the approximate strength of the enemy, and many people rumored that Sparta would be defeated this time. The morale of the army was greatly low, as if they were constantly tortured by hunger. stomach.

A rush of footsteps came from outside the tent in front of Stantor.

Stantor suddenly raised his head and shouted sternly: "Guards!"

A figure came to the fire and continued walking towards him. When he stood up and was about to draw out his dagger, the figure stopped and threw a heavy object in his direction.

After the object fell next to the fire, the outer sack broke open, and what rolled out was a beautifully crafted full-face metal helmet.

Artifact!

One of the Spartans exclaimed in a low voice.

For a country that is extremely martial, artifacts are what every Spartan dreams of.

When the figure approached, Stantor raised his head. Cassandra raised her eyebrows and stared at him defiantly and confidently.

This is the look, more Spartan than that of an orthodox Spartan citizen.

Stantor hated this look in the eyes of a foreigner.

Mercenaries? He roared in a low voice.

Ikanos, who planted spies and plundered military supplies, is dead. This is his artifact, and there is still blood on it spurting from his neck.

Kassandra seemed to be unaware of the hostility in Stantor's eyes, and sat by the fire.

"I have recovered a total of more than ten carts of grain that were stolen by them, so that you and your soldiers can have a good meal and recharge your batteries before the Athenians attack." Stantor stood up Come, with a mixed expression. "Does that mean you saved us? Saved Sparta's entire battle in Megaris? Is that what you mean?"

He suddenly broke out and roared, "Do you want us to bow down and salute you to show our gratitude?"

I just want to meet the [Blood Wolf] of Sparta. Kassandra said softly while looking at the fire.

Stantor fixed his eyes on Kassandra's side face that flickered in the flickering light of the fire. After a long silence, he suddenly laughed.

"Sparta's general cannot stand in front of a cowardly loser. Let's do this, mercenary, I'll give you a chance."

"The Athenian heavy infantry is coming to participate in the battle for Megaris, and I will recommend you to become a member of this glorious battle. Give you the opportunity to fight for Megaris as a mercenary. The glory of the Bada soldiers! Its that simple.

Perform military exploits, receive rewards, and see the [Blood Wolf]!

He originally thought that Kassandra would fight in two groups and break out in cold sweat, because the brutality of the confrontation in the military formation was not at the same level as the mercenaries fighting alone.

But Cassandra surprised him again.

She agreed very simply: "I'll go."

So the whole military camp applauded this woman's courage and fearlessness.

A few days later, the Spartans conducted pre-battle sacrifices in their military camp.

Beneath the cliff, the Athenians rumored heavy infantry legion stepped on a long snake of rising smoke on the land of Megaris.

According to the war etiquette at this time, they are also performing pre-war sacrifices. This process will not be disturbed by the other party, otherwise it will be blasphemy to the gods.

Sparta offered a sheep to the gods, and the priest cut the bleating beast's neck with a knife. After it became completely immobile, it was announced that the gods were very pleased with it.

"Okay, Barnabas. The way you keep telling Cassandra to 'bring more bread' and 'bring more water' is like an old hen."

On the Adrestia, which was swimming in the shallow sea, Lan leaned on the side of the ship and looked at the two large clouds of sand and dust rising from the beach in the distance.

And held down Barnabas, who was pacing around anxiously beside him.

"Kassandra is a mercenary now, but she has been a Spartan since she was a child. She is very strong, don't you think she is not a mortal? So you and Fubo don't have to worry so much."

But it was war! Lann! War!

Barnabas, with his thick white hair sprouting like a lion, really cared about Cassandra.

"That is the manifestation of Ares's divine power in the human world! Even though Cassandra has tamed the bird of the gods, even though she is not a mortal,..."

Speaking, Barnabas glanced at Lan En.

"But why don't you go and help her, Lan? Even on the battlefield, it's better to have someone to look after you than to be alone. Not to mention you."

You are not an ordinary person either.

Barnabas finally asked the words that had been buried in his mind for several days. This sentence came into his mind when Lann said that he would not go to the battlefield with Cassandra.

Lan En, on the other hand, was still leaning on the side of the ship, quietly watching the battlefield on the beach.

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