Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1272: Chariot Race (End)

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Previously on Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece...
The chariot race intensified with numerous collisions and jockeying for position. Procris skillfully navigated the pack, even executing a daring maneuver around a turn to catch up to the leading Egyptian driver. A Macedonian chariot crashed, leading to a dramatic reaction from Prince Phyle, who reflected on Macedonia's perceived weakness and Daionia's prosperity.

By this time, the track staff manning the central spine had also grown busy. They scooped water from the platform's basins with buckets, splashing it over the horses as they rushed past...

"Why are they splashing water on the horses?"

"That's because a horse's body temperature steadily rises during an intense sprint. If it stays too high for too long without cooling down, the horse will fall ill or even die. Splashing water on them helps lower their temperature and protects them from getting sick after the race."

"Oh, so that's why! But why do they use dolphins in the middle to count the laps instead of something else? I like elephants and hippos."

"No, I like Aunt Eunice's black cat better!"

"That's because this arena hosts chariot and horse races. The competitors are horses, and the god Poseidon is their patron. Now, who can tell me what Poseidon's animal messenger is?"

"I know, I know! It's the dolphin!"

"That's right, the dolphin. Using silver dolphins to count the laps is a way of asking for Poseidon's blessing. It's a prayer to protect the competing horses."

"Oh, I get it! Uncle Apox, is the statue of Poseidon in the middle of the track also there to bless the horses?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Is that why Grandpa's Statue is out there too?"

Apox, who had been patiently answering the children's questions like a walking encyclopedia, was finally stumped. He cleverly deflected the question to his father. "Chris, shouldn't you ask your grandfather about that?"

Watching the race and listening to the cheerful chatter of his children and grandchildren, Davos lacked the imposing majesty of a king. Instead, he looked like any ordinary old man enjoying the comforts of family. He chuckled. "I don't know either, Chris. You'll have to ask your father; he oversaw the construction of this arena."

Crotokatax saw his father's intent and quickly joined the joke. "I don't know either. Your uncle Arexes designed the entire layout of the central spine, and I simply approved it."

The children turned their questioning eyes to Arexes, who sat beside Eunice. The master sculptor—usually a man of few words, though blunt when he did speak—brushed them off. "Don't you think it looks nice this way, kids?"

As the children nodded, Antebris burst out laughing. Unable to hold his tongue, he said, "Brother-in-law, you always seem so honest, but even you've learned how to lie! You might as well just admit you designed it that way to kiss up to Dad."

Indeed, the composition and architecture of the central spine were incredibly imposing. But the Statue of Davos, mounted and swinging his sword, was noticeably larger than the statue of Poseidon riding the waves. It was also elevated higher, giving the audience the distinct impression that a descendant of Hades held more prestige and power than Poseidon himself, one of the three major gods.

"What kind of nonsense is that?" Eunice glared at her younger brother, reaching over to lightly smack the back of his head.

"Mom, did you see that? Eunice hit me!" Antebris immediately complained to Christoya.

"Look at how old you two are, still bickering like toddlers. Aren't you embarrassed in front of the kids?" Christoya scolded with a smile.

"Father, Mother, everyone... It's almost noon. You must be getting hungry. Have something to drink and a bite to eat." Axicus walked into the royal viewing box with a smile, followed by four slaves carrying silver platters piled high with a lavish spread of food.

"Axicus, Ribaso is in charge of preparing lunch. You don't need to busy yourself with it," Christoya advised kindly. "Hurry up and sit down so our family can enjoy the race together."

Axicus smiled. "I just can't sit still, so I was helping Ribaso—"

"Sit down!" Agnes shot him an impatient look.

"Right away!" Axicus nodded quickly and took a seat. He was always a little nervous around his normally reticent mother-in-law.

As he sat, he hurriedly picked up a drink and offered it to her. "Avia, for you."

Avia smiled and took it.

"Look, everyone! We're on the last half-lap!" Antebris's shout snapped the royal family's attention back to the track.

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Rounding the final bend, the chariot from Egypt was still in the lead. Procris trailed closely behind, the two of them pulling far ahead of the rest of the pack.

Ahead lay a 500-meter straightaway. The track staff had already pulled the red ribbon taut across the finish line. The winner of this heat was bound to be one of these two.

Anxiety gripped Procris. He glanced at the Egyptian chariot on the inside track; his own team was still trailing by a horse's head.

The Egyptian driver was simply too steady. He had held first place since the very first lap, never once being overtaken. But Procris refused to concede. This was the final half-lap. If he didn't risk it all now, when would he?

He raised his whip and struck the mare in the center with a measured amount of force, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Ephyra! Ephyra! Run! Run like your life depends on it! Go!..."

As if understanding Procris's words, the beautiful mare tossed her slender neck and let out a crisp, resonant whinny. Her exhausted hooves struck the dirt with renewed frenzy, and their flagging speed surged once more.

Beside her, the stallions matched her pace, whinnying eagerly as they vied to show off their strength in front of their beloved lady.

Hauled forward by their tremendous effort, Procris's chariot instantly caught up to the Egyptian racer and even inched slightly ahead.

Seeing this, the Egyptian driver pulled out all the stops, desperately urging his own chariot faster.

The two chariots thundered neck and neck down the wide track, flying at breakneck speed.

The crowd's enthusiasm hit a fever pitch. Almost everyone leapt to their feet, waving their arms and cheering as the roars erupted in wave after crashing wave. The electric atmosphere of the arena poured a massive surge of energy into both the drivers and their horses.

The fine steeds galloped so fast their hooves seemed to lift off the ground. Their soft manes and tails streamed straight back in the air, while sweat sprayed in all directions with every powerful flex of their muscles...

"So beautiful! Truly so beautiful!" Arexes murmured, intoxicated by the sight as he leaned against the railing.

For chariots sprinting at top speed, a distance of 500 meters was nothing more than a fleeting moment.

They were too fast! When the two chariots blurred across the finish line, many spectators couldn't even tell who had won. It wasn't until the track staff handed the flag of the Sacred Kingdom of Daunia to Procris that the result became clear. As he draped it over his shoulders and slowly drove his chariot around the arena, the crowd burst into wild, unending applause. How could they not be thrilled? The winner was a competitor from Thurii—one of their very own!

Procris waved to the cheering crowds around him, grinning from ear to ear. Even though the chariot racing event wasn't over yet, and he would still have to compete in the upcoming heats over the next few days with no guarantee of winning the final championship, in this moment, he reveled entirely in a glory that was his alone.

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July 15th was the final day of the Theonian Rugby Games. According to the latest Medal Board published by the organizing committee, Athens was ranked first. Tied for second place were the Arcadian League, led by Mantineia, and Elis. Tied for third place were the Thurii Region of the Kingdom of Daunia and the Boeotian League, led by Thebes. Based on the rules set for the Theonian Rugby Games, three points were awarded to the champion of each event's final, two points for second place, and one point for third place. The point spread separating the top three on the Medal Board was only one or two, highlighting just how fierce the competition was.

That Athens was able to secure the number one spot came as no surprise to veteran spectators. After all, it boasted a long-standing culture of athletic competition, possessing both a large population and the abundant financial resources needed to cultivate outstanding athletes. In past games of all kinds, there had never been a shortage of Athenians seizing the crown. It was a veritable sports powerhouse, so its striking performance in the traditional events at these Theonian Rugby Games was far from surprising.

However, the performance of another traditional powerhouse from the Greek Mainland—Sparta—was incredibly disappointing. Thus far, they had managed to earn a pitiful two points. In the heavy armor race, an event they had once dominated with ease, they failed to place at all.

Of course, this was understandable. Ever since Daionia conquered Sparta and established a new government, the five intervening years had seen that new administration toss the centuries-old political system instituted by Lycurgus—once the pride of the Spartans—straight into the trash. Naturally, the military traditions long upheld by the Spartan citizens, which eliminated the weak from infancy and enforced strict, centralized training through youth, had also been abolished. The former Spartan Warriors were now either tilling fields or learning to sail and trade at the ports. Their physical conditioning and skills had gone to rust, leaving them completely unable to compete against elite athletes.

Taking Sparta's place to monopolize the heavy armor race were, naturally, the competitors from the Kingdom of Daunia. Not only did these Daunian athletes sweep the top eight spots in the newly created pentathlons, but they also displayed overwhelming dominance in archery, javelin throwing, equestrian events, chariot racing, and rowing sprints. This made the envoys from the various allied city-states and factions invited to watch cast nervous glances. After all, these events were closely tied to military combat. From this angle alone, one could clearly see the formidable might of Daionia's military forces.

The Theonian Rugby Games had progressed all the way down to the final event—the Marathon. When the organizing committee initially mapped out the route for the Marathon, there had been no small amount of controversy.