Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1151: Uncle and Nephew Meet

But ever since Agesilaus learned of this matter, he had remained silent.

Some suggested changing the envoy to a relative Leotychides knew well. Others who remembered the situation from years ago opposed the idea, arguing it would only backfire.

The two sides argued endlessly without reaching a consensus. They eventually set the matter aside to address another issue: determining the punishment for Dorieus, who had abandoned Messenia and retreated without a fight.

Then Agesilaus spoke up. He staunchly defended Dorieus, ensuring that the man was merely stripped of his Syssitia and demoted to the lower class.

On the way home, as he watched the citizens greet him once again, Agesilaus felt a different emotion stirring within.

Returning home, he secluded himself in his room to think, eventually arriving at a decision.

...

In Messenia, the soldiers of the Daionian legions kept busy every day under the direction of their officers and engineers. They were building Messene, constructing simple piers, and establishing key defensive camps...

The local Helots were quickly organized by their village heads to visit the Daionian camps in shifts. There, Tisias and other Daionian Citizens of Messenian descent registered them. In the name of the Sacred Kingdom of Daunia and New Messenia, they were officially declared citizens of the new city-state. They also received land distributions and brief introductions to New Messenia's political system and laws...

Having lived in darkness for so long, suddenly seeing the light filled the Helots with immeasurable gratitude toward the Theonians. Reminded by Tisias and the others, they were completely unwilling to let the Spartans snatch away their hard-won happiness. This conviction filled them with boundless energy. They proactively joined the construction of Messene and the other facilities, and despite the heavy labor, they still participated in military training organized by the Daionian soldiers. By nightfall, when they returned home, almost everyone was exhausted, yet rarely did anyone complain...

The high-spirited and selfless devotion of the Helots infected the Daionian soldiers as well, leaving all of Messenia pulsing with vibrant vitality.

Only Leotychides felt increasingly stifled. He had to provide detailed explanations to the Legion Commanders, senior officers, and even Secilian, who came one after another with questions. Furthermore, over the past two days, the rumor that he was a "Spartan prince" had spread throughout the entire Daionian Army. Whether he strolled through the camp or went out on inspection, he faced the strange stares of the soldiers. He learned from his son that the most common question whispered behind his back was: "Since Lord Prosous is a Spartan prince, will he really lead us to fight the Spartans with all our strength and wipe them out?"

Leotychides knew that the army remained orderly only because of the deterrence of Military Law and the influence of his illustrious combat record. If this continued, it would inevitably undermine his control over the army and lead to a decline in their combat effectiveness.

Yet in the short term, he had no way to prove his determination to the soldiers. Feeling somewhat helpless and slightly regretting his previous overconfidence, he simply stayed behind closed doors, remaining entirely within his main tent.

"Lord Commander, a small boat arrived from the east. The passenger claims to be an envoy sent by Sparta and requests an audience," Staff Officer Muklu reported as he entered the main tent.

A Spartan envoy... Leotychides's mind stirred, recognizing a good opportunity. "Bring him here! Notify the Legion Commanders and the battalion commanders of the three legions to gather in the main tent for a meeting! And the military judges too!"

Having partnered with Leotychides for years, Muklu guessed what he intended to do and immediately answered, "Understood!"

Leotychides commanded several legions. According to Theonian Military Law, his tent had to be spacious enough to host military councils. Therefore, even with one Staff Officer, one military judge, two Legion Commanders, and twenty-four battalion commanders standing inside, a central aisle remained open, and the space did not feel crowded.

"Reporting, the Spartan envoy has been brought!"

"Let him in," Leotychides said, sitting upright with a cold, stern expression.

The flanking generals also stood straight, though a trace of curiosity showed on their serious faces.

The tent flap lifted, and a white-haired old man walked in. He was gaunt, slightly hunched, and walked with a limp...

The generals were astonished. Sparta had actually sent a disabled old man as their envoy? What was the meaning of this?

Only Leotychides, sitting dead center, suddenly widened his eyes, staring intently at the man who had just entered.

Leaning on a wooden cane, the Spartan envoy likewise fixed his gaze straight on Leotychides. He limped forward unconsciously until the guards stopped him. Only then did he snap back to his senses. With a melancholy tone, he said, "Dorieus wasn't mistaken. You truly are my nephew, Leotychides..."

The surrounding generals were startled by his words. Based on the envoy's age and appearance, a few quickly arrived at an unbelievable conclusion.

"Are you... King of Sparta Agesilaus?!" Oliphus blurted out, unable to hold back.

A sudden commotion swept through the tent. The men present were all high-ranking Daionian officers deployed to the Greek Mainland to fight Sparta. Following standard practice, they had reviewed military intelligence in camp to understand their enemy. In those reports, the most frequently mentioned figure was Agesilaus. Over decades of campaigning, this King of Sparta had achieved impressive victories against Persia and other Greek city-states, earning a resounding reputation across the Eastern Mediterranean.

Yet in their eyes, he was now merely a frail, disabled old man. Not a shred of the aura of a Spartan Warrior could be seen in him. It was no wonder some hostile Greeks called him "the King of Sparta who least resembles a Spartan." Still, to dare come here alone required truly admirable courage!

Muklu subconsciously glanced at Leotychides, only to see the Daunian Supreme Commander resting his right elbow on the table and pressing his left hand against his thigh. He leaned forward, his expression terrifyingly dark, a cold glint shining in his eyes.

Even though Agesilaus's appearance had changed significantly, Leotychides recognized him at first glance. In that moment, a surge of rage rushed to his head. He had the overwhelming urge to lunge forward and strike the man down, settling decades of resentment. But the cold temperament he had cultivated over many years, along with his current position, suppressed the impulse, helping him maintain a degree of calm. He exhaled softly, curious to see what kind of trick this coward, who rarely took the field to kill enemies personally, was trying to play by risking a visit here.

Agesilaus paid no attention to the inquiries around him. Seeing his nephew remain silent and sullen, his expression gradually turned sorrowful. "I know you must have hated me terribly all these years, believing I stole your throne... Back then, after your father passed away, I did deeply desire to become the King of Sparta... You and I are somewhat alike. From a young age, we both faced discrimination from the citizens, so we always yearned to achieve something to prove ourselves. You broke royal tradition and participated in the Agoge training, while I, because of my physical condition—"

Agesilaus patted his crippled leg, a bit more sincerity bleeding into his words. "I could not win glory through battle like a normal Spartan citizen, so I desired to become king even more, to command the army and secure victory... At that time, Sparta's situation in Greece was not very good. I confidently believed I was more capable of leading Sparta out of its predicament than you, who were young and hot-blooded. So... sigh!"

Agesilaus let out a long, heartfelt sigh, his gaze turning desolate. "But Sparta's situation today is even worse than it was back then. It's clear that I haven't done well these past years. Perhaps I truly was wrong, and should not have fought you for the throne..."

Leotychides glared at the King of Sparta speaking so earnestly before him. The aggressive, confidently arrogant figure in his memory had now become senile and lethargic. He loosened his fist, then clenched it tightly once again, forcing out a single sentence in a chilling tone: "You drove my mother to her death."

Agesilaus did not look away from his nephew's blade-like stare of hatred. He spoke frankly, filled with deep sorrow. "To become king, I did use despicable methods. But I never imagined it would drive your mother to her death and force you to flee... Over the years, whenever I thought of it, I felt distressed. Perhaps Sparta's decline to this state today is exactly Zeus punishing me for my sins!"

As Agesilaus spoke, his body slowly lowered. Pressing down hard on his wooden cane with his right hand, he bent his healthy right knee and dragged his left leg behind him, actually kneeling onto the ground.

Everyone was shocked: the dignified King of Sparta was kneeling in public!

Leotychides was equally astonished, but his wooden expression effectively masked his emotions.

Agesilaus's next words were even more astonishing: "If killing me can extinguish the rage in your heart, I am willing to die by your sword! I only hope that my death will stop you from resenting the Agiad House that birthed and raised you! Stop you from resenting the Spartan citizens who share your blood of Heracles! Think of the towering High Mount Taygetus, the surging Great Eurotas River, the ancient Temple of Artemis, the arduous Agoge training... That beautiful land was created by the great gods. Guided by the deities, we Spartans have lived there for hundreds of years. Even if it is destined to be destroyed one day, that destruction should not be executed by you—a pureblood Spartan royal. Because when you grow old and recall the past, you might feel the same pain and regret that I do—"