Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1180: Battle of Tegea (6)

The words were as much praise for the Daionian warriors in battle as they were comfort to himself.

That night, he had risked infiltrating the City of Tegea alone, relying on Pausanias to gather the councilmen most sympathetic to Sparta. He first informed them that an Anti-Daonian Alliance spanning all of Greece was imminent, and that the Daionian Army was doomed to fall. He then assured them the Spartan army would help retake control of Tegea. He also made a solemn promise: the Spartans would not slaughter a single Tegean citizen!

Won over by his willingness to risk his own life, the councilmen had finally agreed to the plan. Thus, when the Spartan army suddenly encircled Tegea the next day and the local soldiers rushed to the walls to mount a defense, the pro-Spartan faction quietly threw open one of the city gates. The Spartan army flooded inside, slaughtering the anti-Spartan councilmen.

With Sparta's backing, Tegea had long operated as a noble oligarchy, leaving its ordinary citizens powerless. As a result, once the pro-Spartan faction reclaimed power, they swiftly brought the city under control. They then staged a mock siege alongside the Spartan army. With the entire city strictly blockaded, disgruntled citizens had no way to slip out and deliver the news.

Furthermore, knowing a defeat would inevitably bring down the wrath of the Daionians, the pro-Spartan faction made a pledge to Agesilaus: they would dispatch every Tegean citizen capable of fighting to attack the Daionian forces.

Now, the trap Agesilaus had so painstakingly laid for the Daionian Army had finally sprung. He breathed a sigh of relief, already picturing how the rest of the battle would unfold: caught in a brutal pincer movement between the Spartan Warriors and the Tegean Army, the scattered soldiers of the Daionian left wing would swiftly break, no matter how fiercely they fought. Riding the momentum of that triumph, his Spartan Warriors would then sweep through the center and seize total victory in the Battle of Tegea.

Agesilaus didn't let himself revel in the fantasy for long. He knew full well that the Daionian Army favored holding forces in reserve during major battles. Turning to a herald, he ordered, "Go inform the Thracians at once! Tell them to proceed with the original plan and strike the flank of the Daionian right wing!"

Agesilaus firmly believed the Daionian left wing would shatter under the pincer long before their reserves could arrive, but caution won out. He decided to twist the knife into the Daionian right wing as well, hoping to completely scramble the enemy commander's judgment. According to intelligence from the Arcadians, his earlier scheme had worked perfectly: Leotychides had been reassigned, and the new Daionian commander was none other than King Davos's son. Word had it that this young man—Davos's presumed heir—lacked command experience. Faced with such a complex battlefield, he would be hard-pressed to make the right call.

Suppressing his rising elation, he prayed silently to Zeus, begging the god to grant Sparta a decisive victory to turn the tide of their current dire straits.

Muklu urged his horse into a frantic gallop. Halfway to his destination, he spotted billowing clouds of dust ahead. Countless soldiers clad in Black Helmets and Black Armor, bearing shields and spears, were sprinting toward him.

Muklu hastily pulled his reins to clear the road, then spurred his mount toward the bobbing crimson crests at the front of the formation. As he closed the distance, he confirmed the man's identity. "Legion Commander Tagetinos!" he bellowed. "Where are you taking these troops?!"

"I'm leading the Seventh Legion to the left wing," Tagetinos replied, a note of lingering annoyance in his voice. "Your chief staff officer suspects the Tegean Army has betrayed us, so he ordered me to rush over and reinforce the First Legion!"

"The Tegean Army has indeed betrayed us!" Muklu shouted. "They've already attacked the First Legion from the rear! The situation is critical!"

"Damn it, Plintors was right!" Tagetinos cursed in shock. He immediately pitched his voice into a booming roar. "Brothers! The First Legion is in danger, and it's up to us to save them! Pick up the pace! I'll kick the ass of anyone who lags!"

"Roar!" the soldiers bellowed in unison. The thunder of their footfalls grew deafening, kicking up a massive, choking cloud of dust.

Watching these fired-up Daionian soldiers sprint past him, Carixenus of Mantinea felt a flicker of hope. He had already written off the battle as a lost cause, but their unwavering morale rekindled his confidence.

While he stood there dazed, Muklu had already left him eating dust, galloping straight toward the command center.

Spotting Crotokatax's helmet with its black, trailing crest in the distance, Muklu waved his arm wildly and shouted, "Your Highness! The Tegean Army has betrayed us! They attacked the First Legion from the rear!"

Although he had let Plintors persuade him earlier, Crotokatax had secretly clung to a sliver of hope that the staff officer was wrong. Now that the betrayal was confirmed, the blood drained from his face. A wave of nervous anxiety crashed over him, but he forced himself to maintain a facade of calm. "Lord Plintors," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "thanks to your advice, we dispatched reinforcements in time. Do you think... can our left wing hold out?"

In the end, Crotokatax simply couldn't contain the dread gnawing at his heart.

Reading the prince's thoughts, Plintors immediately offered reassurance. "Your Highness, the Theonian Military Law strictly mandates that 'when pursuing routed enemies, heavy infantry must do their utmost to maintain their squad and company formations, and must never break ranks.' As the paragon of the entire army, the First Legion has always enforced military law without compromise. Even caught off guard by a Spartan pincer movement, they will undoubtedly lock into their company phalanxes to engage the enemy. Not only will they hold the line, but since our forces are trained to fight as independent detachments, they might even seize the advantage in this chaotic melee!"

"That is good to hear," Crotokatax replied, though he still harbored lingering doubts.

"Your Highness, I have one more recommendation."

"Speak."

"The Spartans set a trap here to force this battle. Their thorough preparations have left us on the back foot. We cannot afford to let the enemy lead us by the nose; we must wrest back control of the battlefield if we are to claim final victory." Now certain that the First Legion was caught in a pincer, Plintors finally resolved to put the plan he had been formulating into action. His expression hardened as he spoke in a low, serious tone. "I recommend dispatching three light infantry battalions to the north. They will bypass the left wing and strike the flank of the Spartan army. This will serve to reinforce the First Legion while simultaneously bleeding Sparta's core strength.

"Sparta does not have many able-bodied citizens left to fight. Every single one is irreplaceable to them. That is why they have historically relied heavily on allied troops and mercenaries. It is only because the very survival of their city-state hinges on this battle that they have deployed so many true Spartan Warriors.

"If we posture as if we are throwing everything at their right wing, the Spartan commander will undoubtedly commit his forces to its defense. Once our light infantry battalions have been in the field for a short time, we will deploy our final reserve—the Mountain Scout Corps—to wheel around and strike the flank of the Spartan left wing. That crushing blow will seal our victory!"

Crotokatax listened intently. He pondered the strategy for a moment before his voice hardened with resolve. "Then we will execute your plan!"

......

The Tegeans never expected to link up with the Spartan Warriors in the midst of the Daionian formation so soon. Their original assumption was that the Daionian left wing, caught in the devastating pincer attack between their own forces and the Spartans, would rapidly disintegrate. From there, they would simply hunt down the fleeing survivors, securing a flawless victory.

But reality defied their expectations. The Daionian left wing refused to break. Instead, they contracted into tight, compact phalanxes and fought on tenaciously. The Tegeans, having mindlessly swarmed into what looked like a collapsing formation, soon realized they had waded headfirst into a brutal quagmire.

Although the majority of the Tegean soldiers were heavy infantry like their Spartan counterparts, they lacked the grueling, lifelong martial training of the Spartans. Clad in their restrictive Corinthian helmets, the Tegeans were heavily optimized for open, frontal engagements. Crammed into this chaotic, suffocating melee, they were hopelessly clumsy.

Making matters even worse for the attackers, the First Legion had only been pursuing the 'fleeing' enemy for a short distance before the Tegean ambush forced them to halt and adopt a defensive posture. Consequently, the companies and detachments at the rear of the First Legion hadn't scattered far. As they rapidly assembled into their micro-phalanxes, their ranks remained completely intact, and the gaps between each unit were incredibly tight. This dense, cohesive spacing provided the perfect foundation for the First Legion to unleash their signature detachment-phalanx tactics.

Though Ctesus had hesitated when giving his initial orders, his vast combat experience quickly took over. Rather than panicking and dragging his retinue into the nearest random phalanx, he carefully scanned the battlefield. Pinpointing his destination, he guided them into a phalanx positioned securely in the rear-center of the formation. The moment the Tegean soldiers washed over them like a violent tide, he ordered his buglers to sound their horns without pause.

Though the soldiers in the neighboring detachments couldn't clearly see through the chaotic press of bodies, the familiar blast of the military horns cut through the din. Like ships spotting a lighthouse in the dead of night, the scattered phalanxes instinctively began gravitating toward the call. While each phalanx's movement was agonizingly slow, their coordinated, deliberate shifting crushed the Tegean soldiers trapped in the gaps between them, making it nearly impossible for the enemy to maneuver.

Not long after, an even greater disaster struck the Tegeans. The three thousand heavy infantry of the Seventh Legion, led by Tagetinos, finally hit the field. Without missing a beat, they launched a ferocious assault right into the Tegean rear.

The rear guard of the Tegean Army consisted almost entirely of light infantry. They were utterly unequipped to face heavy infantry in a pitched battle, let alone Daionian legionaries tearing into them like rabid wolves. They routed almost instantly. However, the Seventh Legion's broad, sweeping battle line simply herded the fleeing light infantry forward, violently shoving them into the dense mass of their own comrades ahead. This not only sowed absolute chaos throughout the Tegean ranks, but it also compressed the already suffocating battlefield into an inescapable meat grinder.