EMPIRE REWRITTEN [Isekai ? Alt-History ? Strategy]

Chapter 51: On the Road to Athens

Sforza rode slightly behind, his posture relaxed, but his eyes scanned the horizon with the practiced ease of a man who had spent his life searching for ambushes.

The faint outline of Megara was just visible in the distance, its low buildings clustered beneath the shadow of the hills. Smoke curled lazily from a handful of chimneys, a sign of life that seemed strangely at odds with the tension in the air.

As they drew closer, a small group of figures emerged from the town, walking slowly toward the column. They carried no weapons, only a makeshift banner bearing the emblem of the Ieros Skopos. The man at their head was middle-aged priest, his weathered face lined with equal parts hope and fear.

Constantine reined in his horse, motioning for the column to halt. The army came to a clattering stop, the soldiers falling silent as the delegation approached.

The man bowed deeply, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. "Despot Constantine. We welcome you to Megara. Our town stands ready to aid your cause, as best we can."

Constantine dismounted, his boots crunching on the gravel as he stepped forward. "Your aid is appreciated," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "We march for Athens, to secure this land and protect its people. Those who stand with us will not be forgotten."

The man nodded, relief flickering across his face. "Many here wish to join your ranks, Despot. The Ieros Skopos has inspired them."

Behind him, Sforza muttered something under his breath, too low for anyone but Andreas to hear. Andreas shot him a warning glance but said nothing.

"Send them forward," Constantine said. "We'll see to it that they're equipped and ready."

Constantine remounted, his expression unreadable as the column began to move again. The cheers of the townsfolk followed them as they passed through Megara, the shouts of "Ieros Skopos!" ringing out like a battle cry.

Sforza rode closer, his smirk firmly in place. "You've got a knack for this, Despot. Inspiring the common folk with talk of holy missions and greater causes. Let's hope it lasts."

Constantine's gaze remained fixed on the road ahead. "Haha, trust me it will last as long as it needs to. Thats barely the beginning."

The sun hung low over the Attic plain, casting a golden haze over the landscape as Constantine's army emerged from the hills. The first sight of Athens halted the column in its tracks. Soldiers muttered among themselves, their voices hushed, as though the ancient city demanded reverence even in its diminished state. The Acropolis rose above the sprawl of houses like a defiant sentinel, its marble gleaming in the fading light.

Constantine sat astride his horse at the front, his eyes locked on the citadel. The grandeur of the Parthenon, weathered by centuries but still commanding, seemed to taunt him with its indifference to the ambitions of men. At his side, Captain Andreas shifted in his saddle, his hand resting lightly on the pommel of his sword.

"Impressive," Andreas murmured, his voice subdued. "Even now, it feels untouched by time."

"Time touches everything," Constantine replied, his tone clipped. He turned to the riders behind him. "Giovanni."

Sforza urged his horse forward, his dark cloak billowing in the breeze. His expression was unreadable, though the glint in his eye betrayed his ever-present appetite for a challenge.

"A fortress fit for a king," Sforza said, his voice laced with mockery. "Shame it belongs to a coward."

"Not for long," Constantine said. He gestured toward the Acropolis, where figures moved along the walls. "What do you see?"