"So you're planning to head to Rome in seven days, get a clearer read on the situation, then move on to Greece and rendezvous with us in Athens?"
On the surging Sea of Chaos, Scáthach spoke softly, studying the palm-sized black scale in her hand as faint light patterns flickered across its surface.
"Mm. Greece is cramped and short on troops, while Rome is vast and rich in capable commanders. Only by complementing each other's strengths and weaknesses can we bring out the full potential for war. That's why the Panhellenic alliance rises and falls together, and why Rome's position in the overall situation is crucial."
In Britannia's quiet forests, Samael walked along the riverbank under the moonlight, answering gravely through the serpent scale in his hand, which linked him to the Viking fleet.
Then the Ancient Serpent looked past the Celtic settlement wrapped in darkness toward the Roman Empire's lands. A faint, shifting light flickered in his eyes as he continued.
"Based on the latest intelligence, I reworked my assessment of the first two Greco-Persian Wars.
"Greece managed to endure the pressure, drive back the Persian Empire, and secure victory. Their elite troops and heroes mattered, of course, but the one thing you can't ignore is this: Rome, with its vast territory, tied down most of the Persian Empire's attention. If that windbreak wall had fallen, Persia could have buried Greece under sheer numbers and resources and still been more than capable of grinding it flat.
"So if we want to hold Greece, we have to secure Rome first."
Samael's tone was firm, his gaze deep.
Those two Greco-Persian Wars, where the weak overcame the strong, had indeed swelled Greek confidence to unprecedented heights.
But danger often hides behind the shine of victory.
Short-term success does not decide a long-term war.
Both previous Greco-Persian Wars had been fought on Greek soil. On one hand, that severely disrupted production and daily life. On the other, it inflicted heavy losses on divine-blood heroes and elite soldiers.
The former drained Greece's already weak, hidden war potential.
The latter bled away Greece's most precious and visible strength.
With its population and territory constraints, Greece relied on an elite-force model. Raising divine-blood heroes and elite soldiers was never easy. It took decades at the very least.
Persia, however, had no shortage of slaves and vassals. Its manpower drew on strong national power and a broad population base, allowing it to replenish far faster.
So the situation between them was like a hunter aiming a gun at a fox. The hunter fires again and again, only for the fox to slip away each time and even mock him for missing.
But the hunter loses only a bullet.
The fox, every single time, has to thread the needle between life and death. One hit, and it is dead.
The same holds here. Persia can lose several times and still regroup. Greece only has to lose once to be finished. This has never been an equal war.
Only if Rome continues to do its job does Greece have room to maneuver.
Yet lately the Hun cavalry have already pushed into Roman territory and begun rampaging. That wall is not as solid as it looked. It already shows signs of loosening.
That was exactly why Samael had pushed so hard to bring the Celts into Rome.
One more helping hand was better than one more headache.
As for the specifics, he still needed to make a trip to the Pantheon in Rome and meet the divine ancestor Romulus in person before he could reach a conclusion. That would also make it easier to plan his next steps in Greece.
"Old friend, how are things on your end?"
Samael fell silent for a moment, then asked in a warm tone.
"Fine. Don't worry."
Scáthach glanced down with a faint smile. With a small motion of her hand, a soft wet sound followed as she pulled a thorn-covered crimson magic spear free with a curled finger.
Blood sprayed out in a wild arc, painting the air with an eerie red haze. A grotesque sea beast, over a hundred meters long, floated atop the Sea of Chaos.
As the chaotic storm roiled and the fog thinned, more and more massive corpses came into view, strewn across the surface. The thick stench of blood was enough to make one gag. Far away, the wreckage of two warships was slowly sinking into the deep.
"Greece…"
"I understand. Leave it to me. Go do what you must, my friend. If there's anything you need, just say the word."
Scáthach bent her knees and leapt lightly back onto the flagship's deck. With a flick of her arm, crimson droplets slid from the tip of her demonic spear. From beginning to end, the Queen of the Land of Shadows spoke in the same steady tone, without the slightest fluctuation.
"Good. Then I won't stand on ceremony. It's not convenient for me to disengage here, so there are indeed a few things I need you to handle."
Leaning against a tree trunk, Samael considered his words for a moment before speaking gravely.
"First, the Third Greco-Persian War has yet to begin. After you arrive in Greece, keep a close watch on the movements of the Persian Empire's fleets at sea.
"Second, find out where the gods of Athens went after the Trojan War. While you're at it, look into the whereabouts of several human heroes for me."
"Third, if possible, try making contact with the Egyptians at the Greek ports."
Back in her room, Scáthach dismissed the crimson demonic spear with a casual motion. As she began removing her damp clothes, she paused slightly, her brows drawing together.
"You want to investigate Egypt?"
"Yes. Rome is currently caught between the Hun Empire and the Persian Empire. The situation is difficult to shift. Greece has to deal with Carthaginian raids, yet the Egyptians backing them have not stepped forward directly. Their stance is ambiguous. I want to know what that Pharaoh is truly planning. If possible, we might even win him over."
Samael plucked a lush green leaf and turned it idly between his fingers, his serpent-like pupils narrowing as his gaze flickered.
"Starting with Egypt? Bold. But from what you're saying, they already seem inclined toward the Persian Empire. Convincing them to change sides won't be easy."
Scáthach pondered for a moment and shook her head slightly.
"It's still worth trying. Between nations, there are no eternal friends and no eternal enemies, only eternal interests. Positions can change. That Pharaoh's sense of honor may not be as steadfast as you think."
The Ancient Serpent stretched lazily, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Very well. I'll keep an eye on it."
Seeing that Samael had made up his mind, Scáthach gave a small nod in agreement and walked toward the bath filled with hot water and scattered petals.
"Oh, one more thing. Keep all of this quiet until the situation becomes clearer. The one in the Golden Palace does not want to see the Norse dragged into this mire ahead of time."
"Mm. Understood…"
As the sound of splashing water drifted over, Samael, seated on a tree branch, finished his final instructions and tactfully cut the connection. He turned his head toward the shimmering riverbank, a trace of regret in his eyes.
Tsk. What a pity…
Maybe next time I should develop an image-transmission function for this thing?
The Ancient Serpent smacked his lips, his thoughts wandering further and further astray. Just as those fancies were about to spiral out of control, a rustling came from the bushes behind him.
A graceful figure pushed aside the branches and stepped lightly to the riverbank. Beneath the cool moonlight, she raised her hand and began unfastening her clothes, then stepped barefoot into the stream.
…Of all times.
What are the odds?
So now what?
Do I stay quiet?
Stay quiet?
Definitely stay quiet?
Tsk. Such a difficult decision.
Hidden among the leaves, the utterly innocent passerby serpent stroked his chin, wrestling with a grave and painful dilemma.
...
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