Cyrus shouts. "Now!"
The Persian mages dispel their protective spells, causing their scent-blocking shield to dissipate. A wave of pungent stench pummels the Cattari nostrils. Their fur twitches and they scream in agony as they desperately cover their noses. A few stop themselves from vomiting from the overwhelming foul odor. Camels charge forward as their unwashed hide is covered in filth and dung. The Persian soldiers let out a war cry as they approached the town.
Ashkan gasps for air, "I can't hold my breath any longer!"
Cyrus chuckles. "War requires sacrifice my friend."
The Cattari rush to their horses and charge towards the Persians. The horses begin to shuffle off course, the Cattari pull their reigns to straighten their path. The filthy camels charge closer and the enemy's horses screech in fear, scurrying away from the towering animals. Some Cattari are bucked off their horses and slayed by the Persian soldiers passing by. The Cattari cavalry is forced to retreat towards the safety of the city walls, with Ashkan giving orders for the archers to rain down arrows to create a barrier between them and the advancing Persians. The mages in their group unleash powerful spells to redirect the enemy forces away from the main entrance of the city. Cyrus and his group charge through the opening created by the archers, and their camels vault over the barricades. Meanwhile, Ashkan and his warriors split up and maneuver around the city borders chasing down the enemies they redirected.
"Flank them!" Ashkan roars. "Break their lines!"
Cyrus gallops through the town, his eyes feverishly searching for the King of Lydia, Croesus. In a sudden burst of movement, he spots the king standing regally at the apex of a grand staircase near the central watchtower. Without hesitation, Cyrus spurs his horse forward, the sound of his approach drowned out by the deafening roar of his heart.
BLAST
A blinding flash of light splits the sky, striking his camel. Cyrus is thrown from his mount, tumbling across the cobblestone ground before rising to his feet, his gaze locking with that of the Cattari leader.
Two Persian riders race past the Cattari warrior, their cries drowned out by her victorious war roar as she slays them and their bodies flop off their steads. Closing in on Cyrus she narrows the distance between them in menacing silence. Cyrus expertly blocks the warrior's spear thrusts and skillfully parries her blistering combos. With a resounding thud, he strikes her with his shield. She stumbles momentarily before reacting with a quick kick to his shoulder. The sharp claws on her feet tear through the fabric of Cyrus's armor, leaving a trail of blood flicking into the air. Each exchange of blows is met with parries, blocks, and strikes, leaving only a few shared wounds in their wake.
As sand and dust swirl around them, her fur, matted with sweat and blood, lifts in the wind. Her eyes crackle with barely restrained rage. She slams the butt of her long spear to the ground. A ring of static bursts from its tip. The metal coils along the shaft hum with power. She lunges and a bolt of lightning screams from the tip of her spear, splitting the air. Cyrus dives aside. The crackling energy shatters a wall behind him. He rolls and charges. Sparks rain around them as her spear clashes with his shield. Every strike she makes leaves arcs of lightning in the air. His armor hisses, scorching at the edges. She charges her spear once more, the bright glow covering the sun above. Cyrus unlashes a shield blast as the weapon meets his barrier. They hurl in opposite directions colliding with the ground. They stand once again, eyes evident. Cyrus watches closely and times his movements with her rhythm. She dashes forward and overextends, just this once. He ducks under and uses his shield to hoist her left arm up higher and drives his blade upward into her underarm. The sword glides straight through her heart. Her body locks, convulsing once as the electricity sputters from her spear. She gasps; her claws dig into his shoulder before collapsing. Her spear thuds to the dirt beside her.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Meanwhile, the overwhelming stench drives many Cattari warriors to retreat, unable to focus on the fighting. Croesus watches his general fall and signals a retreat. The Cattari forces hastily make their way back to their mounts. Ashkan and his soldiers manage to take down as many enemy combatants as they can before quickly escaping from the conflict.
As Ashkan joins forces with Cyrus, he expresses his frustration, "Even with our ambush, the enemy still managed to claim too many of our own."
Cyrus, wiping the blood from his shoulder, commands, "Gather as many supplies as you can carry."
A scout hurries towards them, sharing pieces of intelligence gathered from the battlefront. Rumors spread of reinforcements coming from their Babylonian and Egyptian allies, yet Cyrus understood that they must seize control of Lydia before any external help could reach them.
"If we delay, we face three armies instead of one," Ashkan warns.
"Then we end this in Sardis," Cyrus declares.
*****
The next fourteen days are a drawn-out siege. They reached the plateau with the city of Sardis lying on top, only to be rewarded with a sliver of progress. The walls of Sardis rise like jagged stone teeth against the sky, steep and sheer from nearly every side. Mages atop the walls unleash fire, wind, and spells to repel all attacks. Archers defend against any attempts to reach the walls. Ashkan stares up at the fortress. He paces outside the western gate, gripping the haft of his dwarven hammer. Every attempt he makes to charge the hammer, a barrage of arrows rains down, forcing him back.
"No luck on any openings?" Cyrus asks.
"They're guarding every wall," Ashkan growls, "Their walls are tough, enforced by mana. Even if I break through one point, it'll take too long. I'd need to strike twice. They'll shoot me dead before I get one swing in."
"We can't scale these walls as fast as the Cattari, we need to find a path even they are unaware of," Cyrus suggests.
As dark approaches on this moonless night, Ashkan and Cyrus scout the cliffs themselves. they climb some boulders and examine every crack above.
"There," he whispers to Cyrus, pointing to a steep, craggy path on the far side.
"Too steep for a full army—but maybe not for a few," Cyrus smirks.
Ashkan leads a handpicked group—silent, armored in dark leather, carrying curved blades and hooked ropes. They scale the rock in near-total silence. Fingers bleed as they grip on the gagged stone. Their armor scrapes against the cliff face. One soldier unluckily falls from a loose stone. They continue nonetheless, making sure to stay silent. Near the summit, a loose stone nearly gives way. Ashkan grips a narrow outcrop with a snarl, hauling himself up. The others follow. They crest the ridge just before dawn. The wall above has only one scout, half-asleep. Ashkan grabs him by the collar and hurls him over the side before he can shout. The Persians drop ropes. One by one, more soldiers climb. They have breached Sardis.
When dawn breaks, chaos erupts from within the city. The Persian banners rise above the inner citadel before the gates are even opened. Croesus shouts at his soldiers to find those hiding inside but he speaks too late. The walls are suddenly opened from within and Cyrus rushes in with the remaining army. Croesus rushes back inside his home and stands at the throne chamber, sword trembling in his hand. He sees Cyrus burst through the doors, as Ashkan and his surviving warriors surround him.
The Lydian king drops his blade. "I knew Astyages underestimated you, perhaps I did as well."
Cyrus approaches. "He also rules with fear, unlike you who is respected."
After Croesus commands his people to stop the bloodshed, he and Cyrus discuss their terms. He will allow Lydia to stay as they are but under the rule of Persia. All trade and wealth will be shared, and reinforcements will be given if need be.
As they prepare to leave the city a soldier approaches Ashkan. "So? We defeated them and everything is still the same?"
"They are now our allies." He responds.
"But their king lives? How will that benefit us?"
"Why kill a king who is loyal to their people? The Cattari only follow him, and now he follows Cyrus."
*****
Whispers of the capture of Lydia began to spread from city to city. The coastal cities, perched on the edge of the known world, could sense a change in the land. The proud Greek cities of Ionia and Aeolis found themselves swallowed by the relentless tide of Persian conquest. Some among them dared to defy the mighty Persian forces, but most, faced with the overwhelming might of Spero and his formidable 10,000 immortals, chose the path of surrender.
Meanwhile, the islanders who made their homes in the shimmering waters off the coast behaved with cunning unlike any other. Before the Persians set foot on their land, they reached out to Cyrus himself, striking a deal that would secure their place as valuable trade partners rather than vanquished foes. As news of the growing Persian Empire's expansion reached the ears of those who dwelt in the lands surrounding Lydia, one by one, they too laid down their arms eager to join the ranks of Cyrus's ever-expanding domain.