Helen had every reason to speak with pride.
After all, she was the biological daughter of Zeus.
When she blossomed at the age of twelve, her beauty became unrivaled in Greece. Many so-called heroes attempted to abduct her.
Suitors came one after another, causing internal conflict and almost sparking outright brawls.
In the end, all the suitors agreed to settle the matter by casting lots to determine who would marry Helen. They also swore an oath to never raise arms against Helen's husband and to assist him to the best of their ability whenever he needed help.
After all the suitors took the oath, the leaders of the Aegean agreed that Menelaus, the "King of the Green Hat," would be the one to marry Helen.
Later, the goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite, in her quest to claim the title of "Most Beautiful Goddess," promised Paris, the troublemaking prince of Troy, that he would win Helen's heart. Thus began the famous story of Helen being whisked away by Paris to cross the Aegean Sea with divine aid.
Helen's beauty was so remarkable that even Zeus, her father, couldn't help but be enthralled. She had absolute confidence in her looks and figure.
What she didn't expect was that Kratos would reject her.
As a true daughter of the gods, how could she tolerate that? Especially when she still wore the crown of the Queen of Sparta.
There was no way she would lower herself unless it was the very last moment.
Helen trembled all over, her lips quivering beneath her veil. She stared intensely at Kratos' indifferent face but couldn't muster any harsh words.
"I once thought I married for love and sought love, and even the gods told me it was love. But in the end, I realized I was just an excuse for war. That's what I am—a tragic woman. Of course, you have no obligation to save me. If that day ever comes…"
"Hmm?" Kratos' ears perked up. He was curious to know what the famous Helen had to say—perhaps some grand declaration or even a cowardly plea disguised as boldness.
Unexpectedly, Helen softened entirely.
"I will come to beg you again."
Tears, beautiful and glistening, flowed from her eyes. Truly, this scene would break most men's hearts.
Unfortunately, Kratos thought differently.
As the son of Gotham City's most notorious playboy, his standards were already set incredibly high. He was far past the stage where the mere sight of a beautiful woman would leave him weak-kneed.
Besides, with your face hidden, how am I supposed to know if you're really Helen?
There's a difference between rogues.
Bruce Wayne had very refined tastes, whereas Kratos was much more selective.
Even if Helen was the most beautiful woman in the world, theoretically, she was already "third-hand" by the time she came to Kratos, and he had no reason to be foolish over her.
If it was convenient, he wouldn't mind bringing Helen along, but if it was too much trouble, he'd just leave her behind.
Before becoming a true god-killer, Kratos would be very cautious in making his decisions.
Whether it was human frailty or moral corruption that led Helen, daughter of Zeus and Queen of Sparta, to offer herself for survival, Kratos had no interest in figuring it out!
---
The next morning, ominous dark clouds churned in the distance, as if a massive divine hand could descend from the sky at any moment and smash the city of Troy to dust.
In the square before Troy's royal palace, everyone appeared to bow in deference to the king's authority, though, in reality, none of them had any confidence.
Penthesilea was indeed a famous warrior queen, but her achievements were still slightly less than Hector's.
Clad in golden bronze armor and a full-faced helmet that concealed her gender, the Amazon queen stood before King Priam of Troy, who sighed deeply.
He knew that this brave queen hoped to be treated as an equal on the battlefield by hiding her femininity, thus securing a fair fight with her enemies.
He admired her courage and loyalty but couldn't help feeling sorrowful.
The king saw the shadow of his son in her. He had once entrusted the banner of Troy to the fearless Hector, had crowned him with honor, and had granted him glory with his own hands.
But today, he had to pass all of that to a successor who wasn't as strong as his son.
His feelings were complicated!
He raised his voice and declared, "Whoever slays Achilles will receive from my hand any prize I can give!"
Penthesilea lifted her head stubbornly, her gaze seemingly piercing through the thick clouds to glimpse victory on the other side.
"Your Majesty, I will not betray your trust. I swear to fight Achilles to the death. Either he dies, or I perish!"
The queen's resolute words caused the twelve Amazonian heroines accompanying her to clench their teeth, raising their swords and shouting in unison: "Victory or death!"
Their fierce cries spurred the Trojan guards around them, once loyal to Hector, to unleash their suppressed rage. They too raised their weapons, roaring together three times.
"Fight to the death!"
"Fight to the death!"
"Fight to the death!"
The atmosphere reached its peak. Seated on her war chariot, Penthesilea waved her hand and shouted, "All forces, charge!"
Immediately, the army of thirty thousand began to move.
They were soldiers driven by despair.
Their morale was fragile.
If the battle dragged on or if they lost again, it would be over.
The Amazon queen understood military strategy, but her absolute control of the situation left Prince Paris, who had accompanied the army, feeling sidelined. After all, she hadn't even glanced at him.
Instead, she turned to Kratos, extending her hand: "Kratos! I hear you're an excellent marksman. Will you be my archer?"
"It would be my honor!"
In Greek warfare, cavalry was rarely seen. The jagged coastlines and scattered islands of the Aegean made it difficult to raise large numbers of horses.
Warhorses were so precious that Greeks rarely formed dedicated cavalry units, using horses mainly to pull chariots.
The two sturdy horses wore heavy bronze armor on their front halves, pulling a chariot designed for three: a driver, an archer, and a main combatant armed with a spear.
Not just anyone could stand beside the queen—oops, I mean, not just anyone could ride her chariot.
In this era, the ability to pull a strong bow was a symbol of strength.
Kratos, without hesitation, took the queen's hand and effortlessly leaped onto the chariot.
As expected, his actions drew an envious look from Prince Paris.
But Kratos had no time to care, because the gates of Troy opened.
With the massive gates swinging wide and the long blast of the horn, the Greeks on the other side, unless they were dead, would surely be roused.
After ten years of siege, there were no opportunities left for sneak attacks.
The Greek camp had long since been built into a vast wooden fortress.
Seeing the Trojans finally emerge from behind their mighty walls for this decisive battle, the Greeks welcomed it.
Across the field, the Greek army also sent out thirty thousand troops, forming three massive phalanxes to confront the Trojan forces.
Standing beside the Amazon queen, Kratos had the best view of the Greek commander.
Achilles!
Kratos was willing to call him a human Gundam!
(End of chapter)