The quarters of Prince Rhesus in the palace radiated an air of opulence befitting the heir of Thrace. Yet beneath the surface of gold and silks, tension brewed. The prince, tall and imposing with his mane of dark hair and piercing gray eyes, sat at a carved cedar table, his fingers drumming impatiently. His trusted servant, a wiry man named Lykon, stood nearby, awaiting orders.
"You say this Diomedes is a hero?" Rhesus asked, his voice low and calculating.
"Yes, my prince," Lykon replied. "He fought beside Perseus against Hades and the Kraken. The people revere him as much as they do the son of Zeus."
Rhesus scoffed, though a flicker of unease crossed his face. "A hero of Argos, then. No matter. Everyone has a price. Arrange a meeting. I want this... Diomedes to understand who holds true power here."
The next morning, Diomedes was at the palace stables, grooming his horse. He found the simple, repetitive task calming, a welcome distraction from the looming agōn gamikos. His hands moved deftly, brushing the animal's coat as the morning sunlight streamed through the stable doors.
The sound of footsteps and murmured voices drew his attention. He glanced up to see Prince Rhesus entering the stables, flanked by four burly attendants. The prince's ornate armor gleamed, and his posture oozed arrogance.
"Ah, so this is the famed Diomedes," Rhesus said, his tone dripping with disdain. "I expected someone... taller."
Diomedes raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And you must be the prince of Thrace. What brings royalty to the stables?"
Rhesus smirked, stepping closer. "I'll be direct. Everyone has a price, hero. Name yours, and withdraw from the contest. Argos will find another champion, and you will leave richer than you ever dreamed."
Diomedes let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Is that how things are done in Thrace? Buying loyalty and honor like livestock at market?"
The prince's smile faltered, replaced by a sneer. "Do not mock me, Diomedes. I am offering you a chance to walk away with dignity. Refuse, and you may find yourself regretting it."
Diomedes set down the brush, his tone even. "I don't need your coin, and I don't need threats. I'm the princess's champion by her choice, not yours. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
As Diomedes turned to leave, Rhesus's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Stop right there! Do you think you can simply walk away from me?"
Diomedes paused, glancing over his shoulder. "This is Argos, prince. Your authority doesn't extend here."
The words were like a slap. Rhesus's face darkened, and he snapped his fingers. His attendants, heavily armed, stepped forward, drawing their weapons.
"Teach him some respect," Rhesus ordered.
The first man lunged at Diomedes, aiming a sword strike at his midsection. Diomedes sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it until the sword clattered to the ground. A swift elbow to the ribs sent the attacker sprawling.
The next two rushed him simultaneously. Diomedes ducked under a swing, pivoted, and kicked one of the men square in the chest, sending him crashing into a stack of hay bales. He caught the other's arm mid-swing, disarmed him with a fluid motion, and delivered a punch that knocked him unconscious.
The last man hesitated but charged nonetheless. Diomedes sidestepped, tripping the attacker and pinning him to the ground with a knee to the back.
Rhesus stood frozen, watching his men groaning on the ground. Diomedes rose, dusting off his hands, and fixed the prince with a cold stare.
"Next time, pick better fighters," he said, his tone calm but cutting.
Without another word, Diomedes walked past the stunned prince, leaving the stables
Rhesus clenched his fists, his face red with humiliation. His attendants slowly gathered themselves, avoiding his gaze.
"You'll pay for this, Diomedes," Rhesus muttered under his breath, fury burning in his eyes. "One way or another."
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The amphitheater of Argos, an architectural marvel carved from limestone, roared with life as it filled with citizens eager for the spectacle of combat. The near destruction of Argos had left a shadow over the city, but today, the people found respite in the promise of blood, bravery, and drama. Jugglers tossed flaming torches into the air, musicians filled the arena with lively tunes, and children cheered on impromptu games of Greek football on the sandy edges of the amphitheater.
As the sun reached its zenith, King Cereus rose from his ornate throne at the heart of the royal box, his form resplendent in golden robes adorned with the symbols of the gods. The crowd fell silent as he raised his hand, his voice carrying over the amphitheater.
"People of Argos!" he began, his voice solemn. "We stand here today under the gaze of the gods, whose power we can no longer question. It is to Ares, god of war, that we dedicate this Agōn Gamikos, for it is through strength, skill, and courage that today's champions shall prove themselves."
The crowd erupted in cheers, the fervor of the moment igniting their spirits. King Cereus gestured to Tritius, the master of ceremonies, to commence the event.
Tritius, a wiry man with a commanding presence, stepped into the arena, his voice booming. "Let the Agōn Gamikos begin! The rules are simple: a champion may yield or face death. Honor or oblivion awaits!"
The audience leaned forward, their excitement palpable as Tritius introduced the combatants.
"From Macedonia, the champion of Prince Icarion—Kleon the Swift, slayer of the Illyrian raiders, master of the double-edged sword!"
Kleon, a lithe man with a confident smirk, stepped forward, his twin swords gleaming in the midday sun. He saluted the crowd, drawing cheers from the Macedonian delegation.
"And from Thrace, the champion of Prince Rhesus—N'kosi the Unyielding, a barbarian from beyond the sea! Once a gladiator of the Nubian pits, his body is a testament to countless battles fought and won!"
N'kosi emerged like a titan, his massive frame casting a shadow over Kleon. His torso bore a latticework of scars, and his face, partially obscured by a war mask, was an image of fearsome determination.
The crowd gasped at the sight of him, and murmurs spread like wildfire.
The signal was given, and the two warriors clashed in an explosion of ferocity. Kleon moved like a shadow, his twin swords darting in precise arcs, each strike aimed at vital points. N'kosi, however, was a force of nature. He absorbed the cuts with an almost supernatural tolerance for pain, his massive fists and broad axe swinging with relentless brutality.
Kleon landed a series of cuts along N'kosi's arms and torso, drawing blood, but the Nubian pressed forward as if unfazed. With a roar that echoed through the amphitheater, N'kosi caught Kleon's blade mid-swing with his bare hand, his grip crushing the steel.
The Macedonian champion tried to retreat, but N'kosi's strength and reach proved overwhelming. With a mighty swing of his axe, he disarmed Kleon and knocked him to the ground. The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers as N'kosi placed his foot on Kleon's chest, his axe poised.
Kleon, bloodied and breathing heavily, raised a trembling hand in surrender.
Tritius stepped forward. "The winner: N'kosi the Unyielding, champion of Thrace!"
The amphitheater thundered with applause as N'kosi raised his axe in triumph.
From the royal box, King Cereus nodded approvingly at Prince Rhesus, a rare smile gracing his lips.
Rhesus, emboldened by his champion's victory, turned to Princess Andromeda, his expression smug. "Thracian men fight with ferocity and passion," he said, his voice loud enough to draw attention. "It seems even your father acknowledges the strength of Thrace."
Andromeda met his gaze, her expression calm but unyielding. "The Agōn Gamikos has just begun, Prince Rhesus. Strength alone does not win every battle."
Diomedes, standing silently behind the princess, exchanged a glance with her, noting the subtle fire in her eyes. The Thracian prince's boast only seemed to strengthen her resolve.
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A/N: I am the Author of this novel, this is my very first novel, I have written some fanfic though.
Please, after reading these few chapters, add this novel to your collection, so that I will be able to know the direction to take on this novel.
I appreciate you reading this and expect for you to provide comments so that I could improve my writing.
I will be release between 2-4 chapters a day, sometime I might not, but I will try keep up to your expectations.