If my condition was slowly improving and each step became easier to take, then Kratos, on the contrary, was rapidly fading. After moving away from the battlefield, I found a relatively safe spot, laid him on the ground, and began examining his wounds. He regained consciousness briefly, but almost immediately slipped back into unconsciousness.
If I can piece together my own broken bones… why not do the same for another?
I removed his chest armor and studied his body carefully. The dark bruises told me all I needed his bones were broken in many places. I placed a hand on his ribcage and imagined the bones aligning, knitting themselves back together, the fragments reforming into a whole.
In that very instant, pain tore through my head and body, as if I had tried to walk through a solid wall. Manipulating another's flesh was far more difficult. The bones responded, but Kratos' body and will resisted me. Still, little by little, through sheer force, his ribs began to set, fuse, and return to their natural place.
It was as though I could see his skeleton before me. Energy coursed along the bone, sealing the breaks, healing the wounds.
*
Debuff:
Exhaustion – Your mind has exceeded its limits. Intelligence and Charisma reduced by 70%. Physical attributes reduced by 40%.Duration: 1 day.
*
I staggered, nearly collapsed, barely managing to stay on my feet. My limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. It seemed I did have limits, after all.
He would survive. That much was now certain. He wouldn't die on my shoulders… but was I the reason he was on the brink to begin with? Had my intervention changed the course of events?
It was time to consider something else. That it was not only the body that needed strengthening but the mind as well. Mental discipline, training the will, working with consciousness… all the things I had neglected, relying solely on physical might.
Along the way, I encountered several patrols. I avoided confrontation: hid, waited for them to pass, then continued onward. Thanks to caution, I managed to descend from the mountains unnoticed.
By then, Kratos had awakened, and I set him down. He examined his body, tested his limbs, then slowly rose to his feet.
"Where are we?" he asked hoarsely.
"We're nearly there," I replied calmly.
He frowned, eyeing me with suspicion.
"I remember falling… breaking many bones. Why are they whole?"
I only smiled enigmatically and walked on without a word.
Before long, the former capital of Messenia appeared in the distance. I saw the banners of Sparta, which meant everything was still going according to plan. Without slowing our pace, we headed straight for the city. The sentries spotted us quickly, and soon a group of Spartans approached. Upon hearing our names, they recognized both me and Kratos, and without further delay led us to King Archimad, who was currently at the city's warehouse.
"I see your journey was not an easy one. Tell me why have you come so far?" asked Archimad, looking us over. He couldn't have been more than thirty, yet there was strength, confidence, and a warrior's bearing in him.
"King, I'll get straight to the point. We conducted a reconnaissance mission and discovered an enemy army numbering around five thousand. Three thousand of them are cavalry. Their forces are concentrated to the north," I reported crisply, wasting no time on pleasantries.
"We suspected it wouldn't be so simple," Archimad said slowly. He turned and led us deeper into the building. Judging by the marks on the floor and the remnants of grain, this place had once been a granary. "We barely managed to seize the capital, but there are no supplies left within its walls. If we don't secure maritime trade routes or a reliable overland supply line, famine and rebellion will soon follow. Worse, our scouts encountered enemy patrols and were unable to fully survey the terrain."
He turned to face us and spoke:
"Thank you, Damocles. And you, Kratos. You've proven yourselves true sons of Sparta."
"Forgive my bluntness, King, but I have a proposal," I said.
"Speak freely. Consider me a brother, as all Spartans should," Archimad nodded.
"While their camp remains in the valley, waiting for reinforcements, we have the chance to strike. If we attack first, descending from the mountains, we can catch them off guard and destroy their cavalry before they can enter the battle," I suggested.
The king paused for a moment, then looked to Kratos.
"What say you, Kratos?"
"I agree. We must strike first," Kratos replied curtly.
And so the preparations began. That night, we sent nearly six hundred warriors over the mountain ridge, while the main army continued along the road. Despite his injuries, Kratos refused rest and marched with us.
The advance was long, but we moved in near-complete silence no small feat for so many. Enemy scouts were quickly and silently dealt with. By midnight, we had reached the enemy camp unnoticed. Our assault would serve as the signal for the main force.
We descended to the base of the mountain, drawing as close as we dared. Though the night cloaked us in darkness, the enemy camp was lit by fires, and slipping past their sentries unnoticed was nearly impossible.
Without hesitation, we charged into the camp, making straight for the horses. Our mission: to strip them of their cavalry, to sow chaos, to prevent them from organizing.
A long horn blast echoed across the field.
The signal was given. The army would arrive soon. All we had to do was hold the line until they came.
I saw their soldiers stumbling from their tents in panic, hastily donning armor and grabbing weapons. The untrained among them did the opposite abandoning everything and fleeing in all directions, further spreading confusion. Their disorder left them unable to mount any real defense.
Our army arrived minutes later and crashed through them like a wave. The enemy stood no chance. Resistance collapsed into retreat.
Victory came swiftly, almost bloodlessly. Their formation shattered. Horses tied to stakes remained, but a portion of their riders managed to escape. Sparta had no cavalry not by choice, but by necessity. The rugged mountain terrain, riddled with ravines, forests, and cliffs, was ill-suited for mounted warfare, let alone breeding horses.
We secured a position and immediately began reinforcing our defenses, preparing for the next wave. The enemy had lost their greatest advantage: their cavalry. All they had now was their numbers.
According to our estimates, they could muster no more than nine or ten thousand infantry but only about two thousand were true veterans. The rest were green recruits. Arcadia had lost too many in the last war. Messenia had depleted its strength. Only Aegis could raise a true army now.
Unlike Sparta, they had no refined system for training soldiers. True, not every Spartan was elite but the five thousand we had stationed in Messenia were battle-hardened veterans, all over the age of twenty-five.
Another two thousand warriors remained in Sparta to defend our borders. An equal number of women were skilled with weapons and ready to stand in defense. If we mobilized four thousand more helots and perioikoi, we could field a force of nearly eight thousand over half of them trained fighters.
In the surrounding regions, we held the strongest military might. Our only weakness was supplies. That is why this campaign for Messenia began. We cannot leave unconquered land behind us. Its plains and foothills are ideal for grain and livestock. We need those resources to strengthen our position.
The king began to expand reconnaissance, seeking to learn if the enemy was advancing and what strength they possessed. This time, I did not go with them.
Fatigue had finally caught up to me. My body demanded rest.
I needed time to restore both flesh and spirit.