Read The Great Villain of Greece - Chapter 671 Sir, it’s time to eat shit!

Chapter 671 Sir, it’s time to eat shit!

The autumn wind is bleak on the banks of the Pinarus River.

A group of terrified Persian fleeing soldiers were driven into the cold and fast-flowing river by the undead army in black clothes and armor.

Out of the instinct for survival, the soldiers tried to escape, struggle and resist.

The sturdy Persian veteran looked at the faces twisted with fear and gave a cold order:

"God Ahura, your cowardice has brought shame to the empire. Only death can wash away this shame!"

As the old arm swung down, the black-clad undead soldiers who were standing like sculptures by the river drew out the crescent-shaped scimitars at their waists.

“Puff, puff, puff!”

The cold arc of light slashed down, and the wailing sounds of ghosts and wolves were heard in the rapidly torn air flow.

As the cold air passed, blood splattered and dozens of defeated soldiers who tried to resist and escape were split into pieces by the sharp force, falling into the cold and fast-flowing river.

Looking at the scarlet river surface, the old Persian general nodded with satisfaction, turned his head to look at the soldiers of various ethnic groups behind him, and reminded them sinisterly:

"Listen, if anyone dares to desert without receiving the order to retreat, you will be the cowards who will suffer the same fate!"

Although the Persian Empire had a vast territory and a large population, it was actually a country of an alliance nature and did not have strong constraints on various regions.

The vassal troops recruited from various places often have bad problems such as weak combat effectiveness and loose discipline.

Once faced with a high-intensity offensive, they will often hesitate or flee at the critical moment.

A big part of the reason why the first three rounds of attacks failed was that these cowardly vassal troops led to the collapse of the entire team.

Therefore, in order to ensure that military orders are effectively implemented, some necessary deterrent measures need to be taken.

For example, killing a group of defeated soldiers to serve as a warning to others.

Smelling the strong smell of blood in the air, the soldiers of various ethnic groups who were watching the execution all felt a chill in their hearts and were obviously awestruck.

At this time, Darius III, who was tall and fair-skinned, stepped forward and soothed him in a gentle voice:

"Okay, the execution ends here. For the glory of the empire, take up your weapons and make sure to capture this checkpoint before dark."

The soldiers nodded hurriedly, and under the call of the old Persian general, they mustered up their courage and once again launched an attack on the Roman legion on the hill.

Hundreds of armored Persian elephant soldiers marched out with heavy steps and rushed up the gentle slope.

The defensive spells deployed by the Roman Legion on the periphery suffered several impacts and the light patterns shattered.

Immediately afterwards, these Persian war elephants, like heavy tanks, continued to advance forward, followed closely by a mixed team of vassal armies of various ethnic groups and Persian mystics. The Undead Army was responsible for plundering and supervision, constantly encroaching on and compressing the Roman legions' space for activities.

"Guards, form up!"

When Caesar saw that his formation began to deform, he immediately let out a hysterical roar.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Amid the beating sounds like war drums, more than 1,000 Roman soldiers wearing cyan armor and with even taller and more muscular bodies, with spears in one hand and shields in the other, stood in front, braving arrows, curse bullets and falling rocks.

The overlapping light patterns of the shields condensed into an indestructible iron wall.

These Roman soldiers who filled the gap relied on each other, their arms were muscular, divine patterns on their bodies flickered rhythmically, and they used all their strength to hold up the shield with one hand, forcibly repelling the Persian offensive.

"roar!"

The Persian soldiers at the forefront were either hurled into the air by spears or smashed into pieces by shields.

A royal guard composed of descendants of gods.

This is one of the few cards Caesar can play.

Hold the gun, stab...

The fully armed Roman Guards were like emotionless killing machines, mechanically and precisely repeating the monotonous but practical movements.

The connected cold bronze light was like layers of piled-up waves, making the seemingly thin line of defense feel the chill of death.

The Persian soldiers who crashed into it one by one had their shields and armor chopped off and their flesh torn apart mercilessly.

With the blessing of the divine blood, this guard army, which relied on the terrain to defend with all its might, displayed terrifying combat effectiveness. Like a rotating flesh and blood mill, it crushed wave after wave of attacking enemies into meat paste.

Gradually, the bodies of the dead soldiers piled up into a small hill on the front line, and the flowing blood solidified into scarlet mud on the ground.

Devil! Devil!

Faced with this Roman phalanx that claimed thousands of lives, the vassal armies of various ethnic groups that were driven up turned pale and showed signs of collapse again.

Caesar was not polite either. He immediately ordered the Roman legions under his command, with the Praetorian Guards as the spearhead, to advance forward, ready to break through the enemy's formation in one fell swoop.

However, just as the soldiers on both wings stepped out of the bunker, a sharp sound of breaking air was heard in the sky.

The rain of arrows like meteors from the sky tore through the dark clouds and whizzed down on the stalemate front line.

Puff puff puff!

Accompanied by the dull sound of cloth tearing, one Persian vassal army or Roman soldier after another was nailed to the ground by arrows, and scarlet blood splattered and flowed wantonly.

"Defensive formation!"

The centurions, who were the backbone of the Roman legion, shouted their orders on the battlefield. The soldiers were divided into units of hundreds, moved closer to each other, raised their tower shields, connected and covered each other, and blocked the waves of arrows.

But even so, the power of these arrows can penetrate metal and stone.

Even the full metal armor and shields were like paper in front of these arrows.

Therefore, in a short while, dozens of shields engraved with defensive divine patterns shattered, and the densely-lined Roman soldiers were shot down like wheat under a sickle.

This blanket attack, which failed to distinguish between friend and foe, caused serious losses to the Roman legions since the beginning of the war.

They actually used these vassal troops as bait to consume Rome's elite troops. The other side also has experts!

Caesar's pupils shrank, and as he looked into the distance, he suddenly saw a uniquely shaped corps of archers at the forefront of the Persian army.

Each of them was as tall as a pine tree, with a longbow on their shoulders and a quiver filled with special arrows engraved with Persian. With every breath they took, they seemed to be inhaling and exhaling golden particles in the air.

This symbolizes that they are descendants of gods with divine blood.

An entire army of archers composed of descendants of gods?

Caesar was shocked and his eyes immediately fell on the core area of the Persian archers.

A sturdy man with a rough face stood in the center, seemingly the commander of this archer army.

He has bronze skin and deep eyes, with fine lines around his eyes and frost-stained hair. His gray hair is entangled with leather hair accessories of the grassland people. He wears a simple hunting suit made of coarse linen and leather, and the wolf tooth amulet hanging from his waist makes a slight sound as he walks.

Those calloused hands pulled the bow in their palms, the muscles in their arms bulged like mountains, and lines of divine light formed on his body surface.

Suddenly, there were cheers in Persian all around:

"Arash!"

Hearing this name, Caesar's face changed suddenly.

Great Hero Arash! Meteor Army!

As the various ages of gods gradually came into contact and merged, Caesar, who loved reading, collected a lot of information and books from outside the domain.

If I remember correctly, there was a great archer named Arash in the Age of Persian Gods.

Legend has it that he once shot an arrow 2,500 kilometers away, with the power of a meteor comparable to that of a meteor. This calmed the conflict between the two armies and brought peace to Persia.

Afterwards, the Persians were grateful for his merits, marveled at his strength, learned his shooting techniques, and established a legion of divine archers, known as the Meteor Legion.

At the same time, the legendary Persian hero was chanting a prayer in a solemn voice:

"——My Lord who is as wise as the sun.

Mithra, the glorious lord who gives all wisdom, dignity and power.

See my heart, my thoughts, and what I will accomplish.

The God who created the stars and the moon, may His divine power descend upon you!"

The golden flames surged violently due to the burning of the divine blood, and gathered towards the arrow on the bowstring that was ready to be shot.

As the bowstring trembled, the whistling arrow seemed to be wrapped in hundreds of golden fire runes, heading straight for the Roman front line like a falling star.

boom!

After the golden arrow pierced through the outer magic barrier, it continued to smash into the city wall with undiminished momentum.

A terrifying magical storm raged, and bricks engraved with defensive spells shattered and flew everywhere.

Puff puff puff!

For a moment, rocks flew through the air. Except for a few descendants of gods who reacted quickly, most of the soldiers who remained in place did not even have time to scream before their bodies were torn into pieces and turned into minced meat.

Then, the scattered blood and limbs melted and evaporated under the scorching light of the stick before they could even hit the ground.

With their vigilance, the Roman soldiers who had managed to survive dug the dusty Caesar out of the pit.

Everyone shook off the gravel and dust on their bodies, poked their heads out from behind the broken brick walls, and looked outside the venue.

I saw that the site that was previously guarded had turned into a conical pit tens of meters deep. Wisps of green smoke were emitting from the rocks around it, and there were even signs of high-temperature crystallization on the edges.

There was no trace of the remains of the dead soldiers left in the original place.

hiss……

Caesar looked at the charred spots on the ground and couldn't help but gasp.

The appearance of the Divine Blood Hero on the battlefield is a dimensionality reduction attack on ordinary people.

Fortunately, Arash's arrow came at the cost of burning divine blood, which was a huge consumption.

After shooting the arrow, he was carried away by the Persians.

Otherwise, if there were two or three more attacks like this, he and his Roman legion would be able to choose a burial site in advance.

Woo~~Woo!

But before Caesar could rejoice for a few seconds, the low and solemn attack horn resounded throughout the Persian camp.

At the same time, the Persian mystics began to chant intensively:

"Its source is fire, its power is light. Call upon the name of our Lord Mithra, who descends here as a spirit of light, and wields the sword of judgment!"

Magic arrays formed one after another from the ground, and elves made of bright yellow flames, wearing armor and holding weapons, flew towards the Roman legion's position.

Ifrit, originating from Persian mythology, is a kind of elf or demon spirit in the legends of Central Asia.

It was born from fire and has the ability to manipulate flames. It can burn and destroy life, but it can also bring warmth and light. It has both evil and sacred properties.

The genie that lives in the magic lamp in later generations is a variant of Ifrit, and is more effectively controllable.

These Ifrits summoned to the battlefield came from the magic lamps engraved with magical marks, created by alchemy in the hands of the secret wizards of the Persian Empire.

Boom boom boom boom!

These burning monsters, waving their limbs that gathered and dispersed in the flames, threw out blazing fireballs towards the Roman legions that were advancing in a shield formation on the open ground. Once they hit the target, the fireballs exploded instantly.

Under the rolling heat wave, the air was visibly distorted, and nearly half of the trees and grass on the ground quickly withered and burned.

The terrifying heat alone is unbearable.

Therefore, neither the magic runes with limited magic resistance on the shields nor the flesh and blood of the Roman soldiers could withstand the scorching flames.

For a moment, the Roman legions that were charging into the heart of the Persian army were blocked. The centuries-long teams that were defending themselves were like being bombarded, their formations were torn apart, and then they were hit by a rain of arrows from all directions from the Meteor Legion, and fell one by one on the way to the charge.

Seeing the fire spirit hovering in the air and wantonly slaughtering his soldiers on the battlefield, Caesar clenched his fists and looked anxious.

Finally, majestic outlines emerged from the sea.

Thousands of golden-red light bands streaked across the sky and fell into the Persian army's camp.

Boom boom boom boom!

Violent explosions sounded one after another, the earth shook violently, dust spread out for dozens of meters, the splattering blood dyed the sand and dust red, pink flesh and colorful organs flew everywhere, and broken arms and limbs of the human body were scattered all over the ground.

"It's finally here, let these Persians have a taste of being beaten!"

Caesar waved his fist excitedly and looked at the black metal warships on the sea with a sense of relief.

At the same time, a tall and thin man in a bachelor's robe walked onto the deck. He locked onto the positions of the Persian mystics through calculations and spoke solemnly:

"10 o'clock! Distance 1,200 meters! Naval guns, three salvos!"

The soldiers on both sides knelt down, responsible for adjusting the gears and readings on the gun barrel. The magicians on standby were divided into three groups, injecting magic power into it one by one.

Hiss, hiss, hiss!

As the dense and intertwined magic arrays lit up one by one, the divine patterns on the bronze cannon body glowed, and the concentration of magic power in the vicinity instantly increased by several levels. Scarlet beams of magic power swept across the sky, like the scythe of the god of death, tearing open the flank line of the Persian army and landing near a figure in the camp who was wearing a white robe and hood, with flame patterns embroidered on his clothes.

These Persian mystics were caught off guard and dozens of them were killed or injured in an instant. Many fire elves lost control and twisted and dissipated while roaring.

"Don't stop! Follow the magic marking points I told you to do and continue bombing!"

The tall and thin man looked at the Persian army that had once again fallen into chaos, nodded with satisfaction, patted the gun barrel, turned his back to the magicians and soldier gunners, and reminded them in a deep voice.

As the air hummed and vibrated again, familiar magic array diagrams took shape and focused one after another, and a hint of nostalgia and emotion emerged in the tall and thin man's eyes.

Ladies and gentlemen, times have changed!

Get a taste of Atlantis technology!

(End of this chapter)