Battle

It was one of the frequent battles that broke out every now and then in different parts of the polis, shedding blood. Because everyone knew the law. Either you're on the shield, or you're with the shield.

To come back alive, but with a loss, has always been equated to an evening of shame, to the shame of the whole family. Because there was no word for "retreat" in their language.

And the prince of Kremnos fought like a madman, dancing on the battlefield with ease and bloodlust, intending to return home with a shield, with victory, with honor. Because he always brings victories to the country since he killed his father and avenged his mother. For his mother. Because only a decent strong woman can give birth to war. And his mother was like that. And now he's like that too. Worthy and honorable.

His spear was suddenly deflected and he stared at the war in the helmet in surprise, feeling something ignite in his chest and he rushed into battle against the war with greater force. The minutes flowed into dozens, dozens added up to an hour, as they circled in an aggressive dance of bloodshed. Mydei was eager to fight, knocking off the helmet with his spear, smiling as he saw how a worthy warrior stuck a sword into his shoulder.

"Be my spouse," said Mydei, clasping the blade of his sword in his palm, looking at his opponent with delight. Like his mother. How is he. Worthy. "I will end the battle, your people will be pardoned. Be my spouse. I'll throw the policies at your feet."