Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1292: Battle of Asia Minor (End)

"Commander, the cavalry on the Persian left wing has been completely routed!"

Leotychides heard the messenger's good news, but his expression remained grave. "Pass on my orders! The cavalry on our right wing and the Epirote Peltasts are to attack the Persian flank immediately!"

He knew the situation well: though the cavalry on the Persian left wing had lost the initiative early on, they had fought valiantly despite their predicament. The allied cavalry and peltasts had worked together to rout them, but at a heavy cost. Yet, this was no time to rest. Judging the overall battle, the Allied Forces held the upper hand, but they could not break the Persians just yet. Meanwhile, Persian archers continuously rained arrows from the rear of their formation, a steady barrage that exhausted the allied troops in the back and hindered their ability to support the front lines.

Even more troubling were the thousands of cavalry on the Persian right wing. The Daionian light-armored infantry and light infantry had already merged into a single force, turning their backs to the main body of the Greek expeditionary army. They stood in a loose formation, closely watching the Persian riders, ready to defend against any sudden strike on the allied rear or flank. Still, the Persian cavalry was swift. If they initiated a large-scale, high-speed maneuver, the infantry would be left far behind. A reckless, all-out charge at a critical moment could bring massive trouble to the entire battle, so he hoped to secure a decisive advantage as soon as possible.

Leotychides weighed the entire battlefield in his mind while keeping his eyes on the front. Suddenly, the captain of his guard shouted, "Commander, the Persian cavalry is charging right at us!"

Leotychides quickly spun around. The countless Persian riders that had been prowling in the distance were now galloping directly toward him. The light infantry fired arrows and hurled javelins at them, sending Persian horsemen tumbling to the dirt one after another. But instead of pulling back as they had before, the riders only spurred their horses faster.

Leotychides's expression changed. His worry had materialized, only he hadn't expected their target to be him—the commander of the Greek expeditionary army.

As a former Spartan Warrior, he possessed no shortage of courage. But as the commander of the Allied Forces, he could not risk an accident at the most critical moment of the battle. He could not allow the Allied Forces Standard raised high beside him to be captured, which would greatly affect the soldiers' morale. Without hesitation, he led his guards toward the thickest concentration of light-armored and light infantry. The officers of this mixed unit also sensed the danger and bellowed for their men to gather.

Facing the enemy ahead, this Persian cavalry force, composed mostly of light riders, no longer chose to dodge as before. Instead, they hugged their horses' necks, accelerated, and charged straight at them.

Warhorses struck by arrows let out agonizing whinnies as they tumbled to the dirt along with the riders on their backs, only to be trampled into pulp by the Persian cavalry surging right behind...

Though the Daionian light infantry's ranged attacks failed to repel the Persian riders, they slowed their charging speed, giving the light-armored infantry time to hastily form a defensive array.

Faced with the Persian cavalry rushing right up to them with astonishing momentum, the Daionian light-armored infantry remained pale but firm. They raised their leather shields and stood in a dense formation, blocking their path.

"Thud! Thud! Thud!..." Daionian soldiers were continuously sent flying, knocking down the comrades around them, yet more soldiers constantly rushed over to join the intercepting formation. Amid the endless screams and cries of alarm, the Daionian array was heavily battered, but it never broke, and the Persian cavalry's charge was finally halted...

Leotychides had been tracking the battle behind him. Now, not only was he relieved, but he also felt a surge of joy. He knew very well: once the famously swift Persian cavalry lost their speed, their only fate would be destruction if they did not retreat in time. He could finally focus all his attention on the battle ahead.

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On the right wing of the Greek expeditionary army's formation, two adjacent elite forces—the Spartan Warriors and the Sacred Band of Thebes—were fiercely competing to prove themselves superior due to their past grievances. This rivalry, however, forced their enemies to bear immense pressure.

At this moment, the flank attack by the allied cavalry and peltasts became the straw that broke the camel's back, and the Persian soldiers began to rout...

Although it would take time for a minor, localized rout to affect a battle line stretching seven or eight li, perhaps within this window the Persian army might still encounter some other turning point.

But upon hearing this news, Pharnabazus clearly harbored no such illusions. With the left, center, and right lines all losing ground and no reinforcements available, defeat was clearly certain. Acting decisively, he issued the order to "retreat."

Hearing the horns, the Persian soldiers immediately turned and fled, and the allied soldiers took the opportunity to chase them down.

The entire battlefield was like a collapsed dam, the river waters surging in all directions.

In the center, the ten thousand-plus Greek mercenaries fell to the very rear because their thick armor impaired their hearing, making them slow in both reaction and speed. They became the perfect targets for the pursuing allied soldiers.

Jason no longer had time to care about the mercenaries he had spent years painstakingly training. He threw away his conspicuous helmet and heavy breastplate, mounted his personal warhorse, and swiftly fled the battlefield with a complex state of mind, much like when he escaped Greece years ago...

At dusk, the allied soldiers who had long since stopped their pursuit were clearing the battlefield. As they stripped armor and weapons from the corpses or searched the prisoners for valuables, they couldn't help but let out laughter...

The allied generals gathered in twos and threes. They gazed out over the corpse-strewn battlefield in excellent spirits while excitedly discussing the previous combat.

Leotychides sat alone on a hillside, resting with his eyes closed. Hearing footsteps approaching beside him, he asked directly without opening his eyes, "How are the losses?"

The Staff Officer of the Greek expeditionary army—Leotychides's old partner, Muklu—spoke in a deep voice. "According to preliminary statistics, we have over 6,400 casualties. Of those, the cavalry suffered 1,300 casualties with a death rate as high as sixty percent. There are over 3,000 light infantry with a death rate of only thirty percent, and over 1,000 light-armored infantry, also with a death rate of only thirty percent... The rest of the heavy infantry casualties are mostly allied troops, but the unit that suffered the highest number of casualties is the independently formed Spartan Warriors."

Leotychides snapped his eyes open and turned to look at Muklu.

Muklu seemed to have expected this reaction. His face remained unchanged as he continued, "According to the messengers' reports, the Spartan Warriors indeed fought with immense valor in this battle. They were the first to route the enemy in front of them, though they naturally paid the price of nearly a hundred casualties to do so..."

Leotychides said nothing, but his right hand quietly snapped a blade of green grass beside him.

"There is one more thing... I think you should know..." Muklu muttered hesitantly in a low voice. "Agesilaus is dead..."

Leotychides suddenly widened his eyes.

Muklu dropped his voice even lower. "I heard that after the Persians routed, Agesilaus—who had been sitting behind the Spartan army to direct them—was actually so excited that he wanted to follow the soldiers in pursuit. As a result, he took a fall and never got back up..."

That old guy is finally dead... The heavy block that had weighed on Leotychides's heart for years suddenly vanished, yet he didn't feel relaxed at this moment. Instead, his chest felt somewhat hollow. Looking around the battlefield with a profound sense of loss, his gaze finally locked onto a corner on the left side of the battlefield: there, several hundred muscular, bare-chested men with long braids were bowing their heads in solemn prayer. Before them lay a row of corpses, and Agesilaus's remains had to be among them...

Thinking this in his heart, Leotychides still did not walk over to join their mourning. He merely sat there in silence, the words Agesilaus had spoken upon leaving last night echoing in his ears...

Just as he was lost in thought, Muklu's report continued. "The Persians left nearly 6,000 corpses and wounded soldiers on the battlefield, mostly cavalry. We also captured over 6,000 routed soldiers, the vast majority of them Greek mercenaries..."

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Alitaka, a highly esteemed noble of Tyre, had twice commanded the Tyrian fleet to follow the Persian army in campaigns against Egypt. He had also made great contributions in the war to suppress the rebellion in western Asia Minor, earning rewards from the King of Persia.

Therefore, after the unrest broke out in Egypt, the King of Persia—eager to seize the opportunity to reclaim Egypt—clearly had not forgotten him. He dispatched a messenger to Phoenicia, demanding that the Phoenician city-states gather all their Warships under Alitaka's command to prepare to coordinate with the Persian army's assault on Egypt.

But it wasn't long before the Sacred Kingdom of Daunia declared war on Persia. Soon after, the Daionian Army landed in Egypt, quelled the unrest, and stayed for a long time without leaving. Their army even garrisoned in Pi-Ramesses, threatening the security of Gaza... A series of such reports arrived one after another over the span of two months, making the entire Near East region tense.

During this period, Persia, which was undergoing a full-scale military mobilization, demanded that coastal regions such as Cyprus, Syria, and Issus concentrate all their regional Warships at the Military Ports of Tyre and Sidon to form a unified Persian Fleet. Furthermore, they appointed Alitaka as the commander of the Persian Fleet, ordering him to lead the fleet in guarding the Near East Waters to prevent an invasion by the Daonian Fleet.

Entrusted with such a heavy responsibility for the first time, Alitaka was naturally very diligent. He repeatedly dispatched envoys to urge regions like Cyprus and Syria to provide their Warships as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, he seized the time to organize and train the Warships already under his command.