The old king Priam was filled with endless emotion.
However, the man standing on the chariot, Kratos, was the one who shot down Agamemnon, avenging his son and dragging Troy back from the brink of destruction. Despite the defiance written all over this bald man's face, the king had no choice but to treat him with respect.
The old king spread his arms wide and raised them high: "In the name of the gods and the ancestors of Troy, we praise you! Great warrior Kratos! Your valor has changed the very color of the earth! You have won the admiration of millions of Trojans—"
The mystical speech naturally received an earth-shaking response from the Trojan soldiers.
"Praise you, Kratos—"
After ten years of siege and depleted supplies, the Trojans could no longer afford the luxury of tossing flower petals into the air. However, today, in their triumph, they threw up brass plates stolen from the Greeks.
The golden gleam filled the sky, truly impressive.
But Atreus wanted to laugh: "You look cool throwing those brass plates now, but wait until you have to pick them up again. Then you'll be crying."
Here, the horns blared, and the drums beat.
The Trojans did their best to make this a triumphant ceremony.
Atreus was also cooperative, gesturing, and two Amazon warriors carried up the body of Achilles.
"Your Majesty! I present to you body of Achilles!"
Of course, his armor was already stripped. Atreus had claimed Achilles' armor as his own, proudly displaying his right to the spoils.
The old king's eyelid twitched slightly, but his words were smooth: "Thank you, warrior! You have allowed my son's soul to rest in peace!"
Then he shifted the conversation: "The despicable Achilles once desecrated my son's body. But we Trojans are not like him. To desecrate the dead would anger Hades, god of the underworld! As victors, we Trojans— I, your king Priam, have decided to spare Achilles' body."
As a father, he had no desire to desecrate the corpse, and naturally, the other Trojans had no objections.
Moreover, displaying generosity and mercy has always been the privilege of the victor.
Immediately, a general stepped forward and waved his hand, signaling the Greek prisoners to return Achilles' body.
The king gazed at Atreus, whose Kratos armor gave off a Spartan vibe. His eyes filled with complicated emotions, and finally, he spoke: "Thank you, warrior! Your victory has brought Troy great glory. Come now, enjoy this glory that is yours alone, and partake in the grand banquet!"
The old king's words were fitting, yet Atreus could feel a clear sense of detachment.
Indeed, it was the Spartan king who initiated this war. The Greeks, led by Sparta, had brought such devastation to Troy; how could the old king ever trust a Spartan warrior?
Both the good and the bad guy are from Sparta, after all.
Of course, appearances still had to be maintained.
The old king came over warmly, lightly taking Atreus's hand: "So, great warrior, are you interested in joining Troy?"
The king's invitation lacked sincerity—no specific title, no real benefits, not even an empty promise to draw Atreus in.
Interesting. This suited Atreus just fine.
"I came at the invitation of Penthesilea to help. Now that I've killed Achilles, my mission is complete. If Your Majesty permits, I will leave after the banquet."
"This... so soon? Won't you stay a few more days, at least to enjoy our Trojan hospitality and witness the Greeks' defeat with your own eyes?"
That last line was key. The Greeks hadn't retreated yet; no way would the king let Atreus leave.
Seeing the Amazon Queen also about to persuade him, Atreus softened his expression: "Then let's see just how hospitable the Trojans are."
The grand banquet began!
Even the food that the king himself usually couldn't bear to eat was brought out dish after dish.
Honestly, after having tasted the fine cuisine from Future, Atreus found the Trojans' pickled foods and stale bread quite difficult to swallow.
But it was the best the Trojans could offer, and Atreus wasn't too bothered.
The only highlight was Troy's aged wine.
Wine, if stored well, generally improves with age.
Watching the pale, skinny dancers putting their all into their performance, Atreus almost wanted to laugh. The Trojans' attempt to save face by putting on this lavish show was truly a bit ridiculous.
Penthesilea had to leave for treatment due to her injuries.
And Atreus didn't see Helen anywhere.
It made sense— to the Trojans, Helen had long transformed from a goddess to a witch. Rational people knew the Greeks wanted Troy's land, but the average Trojan surely blamed Paris for causing trouble by bringing this jinx, Helen, here.
And now Helen had even outlived Paris.
Atreus could easily foresee how miserable Helen's life would be from now on.
On the other hand, the two Amazon warriors, who had maintained a solid diet due to the need for battle, felt pretty good. They kept leaning into Atreus.
At the banquet, countless Trojan heroes and generals came to toast Atreus. With his strong constitution, he ended up drinking with almost everyone.
If the Trojans didn't do something foolish, history could have been rewritten.
But the next morning, after Atreus woke up from a hangover, he was startled awake by a loud commotion. In his grogginess, he didn't even notice that the Amazon warriors next to him were still fully clothed.
The only mark he left on them was probably vomiting on them.
Dazed, Atreus stumbled out of his room and saw the huge wooden horse already dragged into the central square. His heart sank.
It had arrived!
The Trojan Horse had arrived!
Yet the foolish Trojans believed it was their spoils of war.
"The Greeks have retreated!"
"Great hero Kratos killed the Greek commander Agamemnon yesterday! The Greeks fled in panic!"
"Praise Kratos!"
The entire palace was filled with excited Trojans, spreading the news of this great victory.
Only Atreus, the person in question, felt thunderstruck.
If not for the system refusing to trigger an achievement for killing Agamemnon, and if not for his knowledge of the famous *Trojan Horse* story, he might have believed it himself.
Now, hearing the rumors that he had killed Agamemnon, he only wanted to say—
"It wasn't me! I didn't do it! Stop spreading lies!"
Atreus's face was ashen, and with his Kratos mask, it appeared expressionless.
At that moment, Penthesilea's voice came: "Oh, if it isn't the great hero Kratos, who double-killed both the Greek commander and their top warrior!"
Looking at the queen's radiant smile, Atreus spoke seriously: "What if I told you that Agamemnon is definitely not dead? What do you think about the Greeks' retreat then?"
(End of chapter)