Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1206: Prelude to the Great War (1)

Today, however, the Spartan Warriors watched in astonishment as a dense swarm of ships filled the Laconian Gulf. Fully armed Daionian soldiers poured onto the shores in an endless stream, crowding the entire Spartan coastline. Just how many soldiers were there?!

Their shock was beyond words. Having already faced tens of thousands of Daionian troops, they were acutely aware of the massive disparity in numbers. Yet they never expected this new wave of reinforcements to be even larger. And these were no mere conscripts sent to pad the ranks; to the battle-hardened Spartan Warriors, every Daionian soldier was not only splendidly armed but moved with strict order and discipline. They were clearly a formidable fighting force.

Agesilaus stood among the Spartans watching the spectacle. His heart plummeted. Despair drowned him like a rising tide. He swayed on his feet, on the verge of collapse, but Xenophon's quick reflexes caught him just in time.

"Don't panic... there is still hope," Xenophon whispered soothingly.

Agesilaus stared at the swarming coastline. He remained silent for a long time before letting out a hoarse sigh. "May Zeus protect us..."

Xenophon also stared out at the clamoring shore. Although he had already witnessed the prosperity at the heart of the Kingdom of Daunia, seeing the sheer might of the Daionian Army still left him deeply shaken. A memory suddenly struck him: the parting words Davos had spoken to him decades ago. Davos had declared his intent to build an entirely new nation in the western Mediterranean and invited Xenophon to join him. At the time, Xenophon had dismissed the idea. Now, it was clear that Davos had truly fulfilled his promise.

In that moment, Xenophon suddenly felt a pang of regret...

While the Spartans watched the arrival of the Daionian reinforcements with trembling fear, Crotokatax, Plintors, and the rest of the stationed commanders happily welcomed Patroclus and his fellow reinforcement officers into the City of Sparta.

After a brief tour of the city's main sights, the group entered a heavily guarded council hall to convene a military council.

Patroclus was likely the youngest military commander since the founding of the Sacred Kingdom of Daunia. During the Gallic War, Asistes, the Administrative Officer of the Roman Region, had once evaluated him in private: "He overflows with military brilliance, but having achieved success so young, he inevitably suffers from arrogance and a tendency to overlook others."

However, after spending several years tempering himself in the Po River Region, the now thirty-something Patroclus was noticeably far more composed than when he first took the post of Fourteenth Legion Commander. Furthermore, after his transfer back to Thurii, Cynthia—still grieving the loss of her younger brother—had solemnly warned him on several occasions. She made it clear that the current Crotokatax was no longer just the diligent, low-profile mid-level official he had been in Rome. He was now King Davos's chosen successor, and the King was actively cultivating the prince's prestige within the military. Knowing this, Patroclus tactfully declined Crotokatax's offer and insisted on taking the second seat.

Once everyone had taken their seats, Crotokatax cleared his throat and spoke in a resonant voice. "First, on behalf of the officers and soldiers garrisoned in Messenia and Laconia, I extend a warm welcome to you all! Recently, the Greek expeditionary army has launched continuous attacks against our positions. Although our men have firmly held the defensive line, the pressure has been immense. Your arrival greatly bolsters their confidence!"

Crotokatax paused. Reaching into his tunic, he produced a letter, his expression turning serious. "Commander Patroclus has delivered a letter written by His Majesty. In it, His Majesty praises our outstanding performance in the recent battles. To conquer Sparta—the hegemon of Greece—in such a short period of time is a truly remarkable achievement!"

Hearing this, Plintors, Oliphus, Trotidis, and the others instinctively puffed out their chests.

Crotokatax's gaze swept across their faces before finally settling on the somewhat distracted Ctesus. Continuing in a gentle tone, he said, "His Majesty also mentioned: 'Although we achieved our expected goals, the expeditionary army still paid a heavy price. This, however, was inevitable. After all, we were fighting Sparta—a state that dominates Greece through martial prowess—not the feeble forces of Tarentum. Many soldiers lost their lives in battle, but such is war!' ...His Majesty has weathered countless battles himself, and he blames no one for these losses! On the contrary, he encourages us to cast aside our misgivings, remain united, and fight with everything we have to ultimately achieve the strategic goals set by the Kingdom!"

Crotokatax's words brought a massive wave of relief to the stationed commanders. This was especially true for Ctesus, whose pale complexion instantly regained some of its color.

Crotokatax was glad to see his words taking effect. He knew the truth all too well: the death of Adoris weighed heavily not only on him, but on all the officers fighting in the Peloponnese. It was a crushing boulder upon their chests. Ctesus had it worst of all; the man’s bitter self-blame was etched onto his face every single day.

Crotokatax held no resentment toward Ctesus, only sympathy. When the tide of battle had suddenly turned, Crotokatax himself, despite being the commander-in-chief, had succumbed to panic. It was Ctesus who had managed to mount a swift and correct response, ensuring the First Legion wasn't completely overrun by the Spartans and laying the groundwork for their eventual victory. Crotokatax had spoken with Ctesus privately about this before to ease his guilt, but the effort had yielded little success.

Thankfully, Davos's letter had arrived at the perfect time. Though the King had not explicitly mentioned Adoris by name, his words of understanding and encouragement had reached Ctesus, completely revitalizing the officer's spirit.

Patroclus watched the scene unfold in silence. When he first received the news of Adoris's death on the battlefield, he had certainly felt shocked and saddened, but his grief paled in comparison to his wife's agonizing sorrow. After all, Patroclus and Adoris had never shared a close bond. Adoris had always harbored an inexplicable hostility toward him, and as a result, they had rarely interacted.

What truly surprised him in this moment, however, was the profound change in Crotokatax. Years ago, while serving as a commander in Rome, Patroclus had worked closely with the prince. His impression of the young royal had been that of a gentle, earnest, diligent, and approachable young man. Yet, seeing him again today, Crotokatax's every word and gesture carried the undeniable, commanding aura of a ruler.

"Commander Patroclus," Crotokatax said, projecting his voice as he turned toward his brother-in-law. "If you would, please brief us on the upcoming military operations formulated by His Majesty and the Ministry of Military Affairs!"

Patroclus snapped back to reality. Glancing around the room, he announced, "To all of you who have fought so hard here over the past three months: according to His Majesty's latest military directive, you will need to hold this position independently for a while longer. The army I have brought with me is not here to reinforce you—"

"What?!" Oliphus, Tagetinos, and several other commanders exclaimed in astonishment, whereas Plintors merely looked deeply thoughtful.

Before anyone could voice their questions, Patroclus continued, "The Ministry of Military Affairs has run through the tactical simulations. The Peloponnese Peninsula isn't vast, but it is heavily mountainous. If we engage the enemy in a direct frontal assault through Messenia and Laconia, our superior numbers will be bottlenecked and unable to fully deploy. We might push them back, but we wouldn't be able to decisively annihilate them. Worse, if the routed Greek expeditionary army simply retreats behind the walls of their individual city-states, it will drastically drag out our conquest of Greece.

"If our forces were to land in the rear flanks of the Greek expeditionary army and launch a pincer attack, the only terrain suitable for a massive amphibious assault is Elis. However, our earlier conquests of islands like Zakynthos and Cephalonia have already alerted the enemy, prompting them to heavily fortify their coastlines. Furthermore, the main host of the Greek expeditionary army is positioned just south of Elis and could rush north to reinforce the beaches at a moment's notice. A landing operation there would undoubtedly exact a heavy toll on our men, with no guarantee of success.

"Additionally, the Ministry of Military Affairs has received intelligence indicating that the Greek expeditionary army has bolstered the coastal defenses of Attica and the Boeotia Region... But none of their preparations will matter. His Majesty locked in our true strike target long ago—"

A look of profound admiration touched Patroclus's face as he emphasized his next words. "And that target is Thessaly! According to our reports, soldiers from Thessaly make up over half the Greek expeditionary army. They are also the most elite fighters, serving as the absolute core of the coalition! We will exploit the vacuum in their home territory. A massive army will rapidly assault and occupy all of Thessaly. Once their homeland falls, the Thessalian Army fighting down here will lose their will to fight and break without a single sword swung. With the Thessalians routed, the rest of the Greek expeditionary army will naturally crumble..."

Understanding dawned on the faces of Oliphus and the other commanders.

Plintors nodded knowingly, though he offered a cautious reminder. "If the Greek expeditionary army knew to reinforce the coastal defenses of Central Greece, they surely wouldn't have neglected Thessaly."

"Lord Plintors is absolutely correct. The Ministry of Military Affairs has received reports from Pherae confirming that Jason has indeed dispatched troops to fortify the southern coast." Patroclus didn't dare underestimate this incredibly resourceful and highly decorated staff officer from the Ministry of Military Affairs, so he patiently clarified, "However, our primary landing locations are not in eastern Thessaly, but the territories of Peleus and Macedonia to the north, and Lamia to the south.

"Although Macedonia never joined the Greek League, they have consistently supplied troops—mercenaries, in truth—to both Sparta and Athens. They are enemies of Daionia all the same. Furthermore, the region of Lamia was only recently subjugated by Jason, and Peleus sits far from the heartland of Thessaly. Neither holds much military power, nor do they harbor any real loyalty toward Jason. Most importantly, neither region has taken any steps to fortify its coastline..."

Plintors listened closely, mentally mapping the geography and maritime conditions of the Greek Mainland's eastern coast. After a moment of deep thought, he asked another question. "How many soldiers are participating in this amphibious assault?"

"We are deploying the Second Legion, the Third Legion, the Fifth Legion, the Ninth Legion, the Tenth Legion, the Eleventh Legion, the Twelfth Legion, and the Thirteenth Legion. We also have the Second and Third Cavalry Legions, the Gallic Battalion—comprising 6,000 Gallic infantry and 2,000 Gallic cavalry—and 2,000 Balearic Slingers... The total number of soldiers directly committing to the landing assault numbers 80,000." Patroclus paused, suddenly recalling an additional detail. "Oh, right! If we include the naval infantry from the three fleets escorting us, the total combat force reaches nearly 100,000 men!"

When Patroclus finished speaking, the eyes of every commander in the room went wide with shock. A coordinated deployment of 100,000 soldiers... what an incredibly grand spectacle that would be!