This was the Bronze Age, but it gave Atreus the illusion of being in a scene where "the city is covered in golden armor."
Even without the occasional beams of sunlight breaking through the clouds, the enemy's radiance was blinding.
In fact, the polished brass armor created a glaring shine, which was visual pollution for both sides.
However...
It was impressive!
Greek soldiers stood in orderly phalanxes, rhythmically raising their long spears and then slamming the butts into the ground. The imposing spear forest loomed before them.
They opened a wide path, at least 50 meters across, allowing chariots carrying Achilles and other heroes to majestically enter the battlefield.
Achilles, Agamemnon, Odysseus... every one of them was a legendary hero, a king of their own domain. The Greek army's all-star lineup made the Trojans seem significantly weaker in comparison.
Achilles, universally acknowledged as the fiercest Greek warrior, stood in the absolute center.
The standard Greek breastplate was simple in design, featuring a bell-shaped cuirass that bulged at the lower part, made of two bronze pieces joined at the shoulders. Bronze plates protruded over the hips and groin, giving it its distinctive bell shape, known as the "bell cuirass."
The issue was that while the other heroes' armor was made of brass that resembled gold, Achilles' armor had long surpassed the ordinary concept of metal.
This was a divine set of armor forged by Hephaestus, the god of craftsmanship.
Although, like Agamemnon's, his full set of armor and weapons shone golden, Achilles' armor had a unique divine glow, similar to the way the Unicorn Gundam emitted light. While the Gundam's psycho-frame glowed red, his armor radiated divine golden light.
Achilles' entrance, along with the neatly aligned soldiers behind him, looked strikingly like a runway.
If, in the next second, Achilles shouted, "Achilles, launch!" and flew along the "runway," Atreus wouldn't have been surprised.
In Atreus's mind, when two armies faced each other, shouldn't they hurl insults, invoke each other's ancestors, and send champions to duel?
Who could have known that after the two commanders exchanged glances from afar, they simultaneously raised their swords and swung them down fiercely.
"Wooooooo—"
The sound of the attack horn blared, and the soldiers, now ordered to attack, began advancing in quick steps, maintaining the battle line as they closed in on the enemy.
Suddenly, Atreus had a revelation: the Trojans, having lost their great general, no longer had the spirit or patience for taunts. With Hector dead, no amount of verbal sparring would defeat the Greeks.
The siege had lasted ten years, and all the insults had already been exhausted.
So, instead of wasting time with more taunts, why not go all out, kill a few Greek generals, and perhaps regain some morale?
As for Penthesilea, she didn't want her female identity exposed either. If the Greeks went easy on her because she was a woman, it would be a great shame for the warrior nation of the Amazons.
On the battlefield's wings, tens of thousands of infantry clashed.
In the center, both sides reserved space for their elites.
With divine offspring on both sides, this was truly a "stage for gods."
As the saying goes, when gods fight, mortals suffer. Only the bravest dared to approach the roughly three or four square kilometers of central battlefield.
"Crack!" The charioteers cracked their whips harshly, and the horses, feeling the sting, galloped wildly.
The rumbling of the chariot wheels crushing the earth became the only sound in the world.
Leading the charge, Penthesilea was filled with excitement. "Haha! Kratos! Show me your strength."
Atreus didn't hesitate, bending his bow and nocking an arrow from five hundred meters away.
His actions surprised the Amazonian warriors on the surrounding four chariots. Atreus waited until the nearest enemy chariot was only three hundred meters away before finally releasing the bowstring.
Three hundred meters!
Without extraordinary vision and inhuman strength, who would dare claim they could shoot an arrow that far?
Atreus dared!
With his **Eagle Eye Aiming System**, he had locked onto the "big fish" in the middle of the enemy chariots from five hundred meters away. With his max-level archery and **Triple Shot** skill, Atreus finally released the bowstring.
"Thoom!" The huge sound, like a heavy drumbeat, drew the attention of the surrounding Trojan warriors.
Then came an astonishing scene!
A long, dark shadow almost instantly streaked across the battlefield.
It weaved through the gap between the two lead chariots, less than half a meter wide.
By the time Agamemnon reacted, an arrow—thick as a baby's arm—was already flying straight toward his face.
Agamemnon's charioteer was a master, chosen from thousands, and in a split second, he drew his broad-bladed bronze sword to deflect the arrow.
Neither he nor Agamemnon expected that it wasn't just one arrow—it was a cluster of three.
Atreus's spectacular triple-shot sent three huge arrows speeding forward.
When the charioteer blocked the first arrow, the sheer force from the impact split his hands open. But before he could react, the second arrow pierced his throat, blasting a fist-sized hole.
The second arrow, losing none of its momentum, then shot towards Agamemnon.
Agamemnon barely had time to duck, narrowly avoiding the terrifying projectile.
As the king of Mycenae and the commander of the Greek forces in the Trojan War, Agamemnon hadn't been this close to the underworld of Hades in a long time.
Blood gushed like rain from the gaping wound in the charioteer's neck. Agamemnon's nerves were taut, and he instinctively turned his head to avoid the splatter from getting into his eyes.
At that moment, he suddenly felt a sharp pain, followed by dizziness.
Atreus's third arrow had exploded the head of the left-side horse, and as Agamemnon dodged, the arrow pierced through the horse's skull and into the gap under his right armpit, slipping through his armor.
"Ahhhh—" Agamemnon let out a blood-curdling scream.
At least three hundred people on the battlefield heard it.
That wasn't all. With both the charioteer and one of the horses dead, Agamemnon's chariot toppled over, crashing onto the battlefield.
This was a battlefield, where death was never a surprise.
The brilliance of Atreus's arrow lay in the timing—just ten seconds before the frontlines of both chariot squads were about to clash, the Greek commander's banner fell!
"Ohohohoho—"
"Agamemnon is dead!"
"Long live Troy!"
At first, the Greek warriors were skeptical of the Trojans' cheers. After all, claiming an enemy general was dead was an old trick, one they had used themselves many times.
But then, curiosity made them glance over.
That glance was enough to cause chaos.
As the commander of the Greek coalition, Agamemnon's chariot was unmistakably the most extravagant. Not only did they see his banner fall, but they also saw Agamemnon himself, thrown from his chariot during the high-speed crash, tumbling forward and landing face-first into the dirt.
Meanwhile, his charioteer was clearly dead, and Agamemnon's body, after a few rolls, lay limp beside the corpse of a horse.
The sight terrified the Greeks and invigorated the Trojans.
"Well done, Kratos! Once I take down Achilles, I'll reward you handsomely tonight!" Penthesilea shouted with excitement.
In any other army, the death of a commander could have thrown the ranks into disarray.
But at that very moment, a golden "Gundam" charged forth, advancing toward the Trojan chariots.
Achilles!
(End of Chapter)