Feet slapping against stone resounded through one of the streets in Athens as Aleks ran. Rage mixed with fear for his mother’s well being, pushed him faster than he had ever run before.

The man had talked. He didn’t need a lot of convincing, although he still paid the blood price. The wealthiest family in the city, Chronis, became concerned with the Papadakis’ rise to fortune and power. Thus they sent them a message of blood. Luke was supposed to be beaten to death that night, but they got interrupted. This angered them and after a quick investigation, they found him. The goons received their orders and they set out. One group to capture his mother, and another to catch Aleks. . . Only one of them succeeded.

Grabbing a nearby lamp post, he paused for a while as he attempted to catch his breath. Blood stains decorated his clothes as sweat poured down his body and onto his wounds, causing him to wince. A kind woman saw him, and took pity on him as she moved closer. Stretching out her hand to steady him she looked into his eyes. A sight she never expected from a beaten man stared back at her. Some philosophers said that the eyes are a window to one’s soul. This man’s soul was far from beaten, it was burning with a fire that could only be quenched by achieving its purpose, burning away at that which fueled it.

With a grunt, he continued his stumbling run, leaving the stunned woman behind. After half an hour he reached the Papadakis’ household.

“Aleksander! What happened?” one of the guards shouted, shocked at his bloody visage.

After the previous night, all of the servants knew who he was and were told to treat him with utmost respect. They rushed to him and helped him onto a nearby bench while one of the other guards were sent to get the master of the house. After a few moments, a rush of movement was heard as Lucius Papadakis and his entourage arrived at the gate.

“What in Zeus’ name happened to you?” Lucius exclaimed with a concerned face.

Aleks told him everything that happened and then closed his eyes wearily, resting for a bit. Lucius, shocked at what happened, walked around restlessly, a troubled expression marring his face. He came to a decision and commanded one of the nearby servants to order his household troops to gather.

“Aleks. We will rescue your mother,” he started. “Just rest up here, she will be fine.”

His eyes snapped open as he stared at the face of his friends’ father,“There is no way that I will sit while that rotten family has my mother!” he said, straightening his posture.

“I can understand that you wish to save your mother, but you can hardly stand.” Lucius said as he put his hand on Aleks’ shoulder, causing Aleks to wince.

“If I don’t then I’ll never forgive myself.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Very well, you will follow us. We leave in ten minutes, so prepare yourself.”

With a grunt, Aleks acknowledged his words as he focused on gathering his strength. The household fighters started to fill the courtyard as they responded to Lucius’ call to arms. They were garbed in red tunics and cloaks, the colour of the Papadakis family. Each of them equipped sturdy bronze shields, bronze cuirasses made in the shape of abdominal muscles and bronze greaves. With experienced hands they held a shorter spear than the city’s hoplites, as by law they were not allowed to wield longer spears than them. On their belts hung sharp short swords, useful in close quarter fight and especially useful in narrow alleyways.

Ten minutes passed and Aleks got to his feet. In front of him stood thirty, well equipped and experienced men with Lucius easily recognizable wearing his bronze face plated helmet. The sun glinted off the helmet’s polished surface and the wind lightly caressed it’s red plumes, creating a striking image.

“Men of valour. Today and yesterday we have been wronged. The Chronis think that we are spineless, that we will take a beating without defiance,” he walked up and down.“Today, we show them that even though we are a new family, we will not be walked over.” he shouted as he grabbed a spear from one of the benches. “They beat up my son. . . If not for Aleksander, he would be dead. Now today, they try to kill, but they fail once again.” he walked up to Aleksander and plunged the spear into the ground at his feet. “In a cowardly fashion they took his mother to their so-called great household.” his eyes met that of the young man in front of him. “They will pay a blood price.”

“Ahoo, ahoo!” The powerful warcry of thirty warriors resounded across the courtyard.

With a sharp turn, Lucius exited the courtyard onto the street of Athens with his warriors in tow. Aleks pulled the spear from the ground before a voice made itself known.

“Go get the bastards.”

Looking up, he saw his bandaged friend leaning against the wall. With a nod being his only answer, Aleks followed after the warriors, his body weak from the beating it received. Only the fear for his mothers life and anger at the Cronis household gave him enough strength to continue onwards.

Navigating through the streets in the upper-class district was a lot easier than elsewhere as the streets were wide and well kept with no street vendors impeding their path. The large houses had statues standing at attention with beautifully engraved artworks engraved against the white walls. The guards at each of the wealthy estates, wisely backed into their own courtyards and made no effort to impede the fury of the Papadakis.

When they marched over a particular bend in the road, a wealthy estate became visible. Great statues depicting the different demigods including the great Heracles, Achilles and Orpheus could be seen posing as the gate. Beautiful gardens with blooming flowers and hedges created a view that only the most privileged and wealthy could walk through.

At the large wooden gate stood a man backed by four warriors. The man wore the green of the Cronis household and his pudgy hands and arms were decorated with all kinds of rubies, emeralds and gold. The midday sun caused sweat to run down his gray head as he stepped forward with a smile more natural on a lizard than on a human being.

“Greetings my friend and rival,” said Cyril Cronis, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Without bothering to reply, Lucius hefted his spear and with a snarl throws it at him. Cyril’s eyes widened like saucers as he scrambled out of the way. With a sickening thud, the man behind him fell over, the spear impaled through his midriff.

“Today you die Cyril!” Lucius shouts.

Scrambling into his estate Cyril shouted. “No need to wait, get them men!”

Warriors in green peeled out from behind the walls as the Papadakis met them in a clash. Green and red mixed as curses and cries of pain rang out while spears met flesh. The men in red fought with brutal efficiency as they pierced throats and chests, leaving a trail of death in their wake. More than a hundred men from the estate could be seen gathering inside the walls. Although Lucius was a wealthy trader he had his fair experience in the war of Byzantine and knew that they stood a slim chance if they didn’t use tactics in this fight. Taking inspiration from the great Leonidas he executed a plan.

“Push with everything you have men, get to the gate!” he shouted.

With purpose they pushed ahead, taking wounds as they started fighting recklessly, believing that their leader had a plan. A lot of bodies later and they reached the gate as Lucius barked another command.

“Phalanx!”

With movement that only great training and discipline could achieve, the warriors get into formation. Shields braced ahead of them and spears pointed forward. They stood with five rows of five, men standing shoulder to shoulder, like the great Leonidas and his three hundred standing against the Persian thousands at the battle of Thermopylae. Now it was almost thirty of them against more than a hundred of the Cronis scum. Odds he was willing to take.

As they solidified their position, Aleks could only stand behind them, his spear used as a crutch instead of a weapon. Warfare was something that the Greek nation was very familiar with and something that master Takashi couldn’t teach him with martial arts. Knowing that trying to help would be counterproductive, he analyzed the battle. The Papadakis had an advantageous position, especially with their brutal Phalanx. Although the Cronis cronies had the numbers, they couldn’t use it.

The fight continued into the day as the bodies continued to fall, Aleks could only be thankful that Lucius took on his plight as his own. His eyes gazed over the city and he noticed a cloud of smoke emerging from where they came. Dread filled his heart as he realized it’s the Papadakis estate. He ran to the back of the Phalanx, desperately trying to get to Lucius to make him aware of the threat.

Suddenly, the sound of weapons hitting shields could be heard over the clang of battle. They turned around and round the corner, they emerged, the city’s elite hoplites. Spears reaching two and a half metres in length pierced the sky as bronze armour and shields glinted in the sunlight. With a shout, they took up formation behind them, a Phalanx of deadly spears aimed at them.

“Lucius Papadakis!” a shout emerged from behind the Hoplites.

An unnatural silence spread across the battlefield as Lucius turned towards the newcomers.

“You will stop this at once!” the commander of the Hoplites shouted as he walked out from behind his force of fifty well-trained soldiers.

“Commander Leon, the Cronis household has beaten up my son and kidnapped a dear family friend of ours. We demand justice!” Lucius shouted. His men around him expressed their support with loud cheering.

“This is the city of Athens! Not some barbaric tribe. You will stay your hand while proper judgement takes place.” the commander responded. “The law exists for a reason.”

With a grimace, Lucius looked at his men. They were bruised but far from beaten, their morale still high. Making eye contact with Aleks, they had a silent conversation as their eyes spoke volumes.

“If the Cronis scum return this boy’s mother, then and only then will we stand down.” he proclaimed, garnering another round of cheers from his men.

Sighing the commander muttered under his breath. After a few moments he responded.

“Cyril! We will not lose good men because of your greed, give the boy his mother.”

The voice of Cyril came from behind the estate walls. “With pleasure.”

A few moments passed when something was thrown over the wall. It wasn’t very large and it rolled a few times before it stopped near the feet of Aleks. He looked down and saw the beautiful eyes of his mother looking back at him, forever frozen in fear.

His legs immediately gave out as he fell next to her head. With trembling arms he reached for her, his fingers touching her golden locks dirtied by dust. He picked her up and hugged her to his chest, his face twisted in extreme anguish. Tears ran down freely and no sound came from him, only a voiceless scream emerged from his soul, unheard, but felt from all that saw him. The Hoplites looked at him, pity and empathy evident on their faces.

“Damn your eyes Cyril.” the commander whispered, disgust marring his face.

Enraged the Papadakis warriors cried out, pure emotion erupting from their throats in bloodthirsty screams for retribution as they rushed into the estate, skewering the Cronis scum with righteous fury. Spears fly through the sky and strike true as the now spearless warriors unsheathe their swords, grim determination etched onto their faces. They fought recklessly, overextending themselves as they exacted the blood price. Lucius stood frozen as he looked at the figure of Aleksander clutching his mothers head to his chest. Tears flowed freely down his face as he made a vow in his heart.

“Lucius, stand down! We will bring him to justice!” the commander cried out, hoping that he would listen to reason.

With a roar, Lucius’ hand tightened around the grip of his sword as he charged after his men, leaving Aleks in front of the Hoplites. They stood frozen in formation, unsure of what to do.

“Men, ready to attack.” Commander Leon barked, a clear dislike of the order evident on his face.

“But sir, this is not right!” one of the Hoplites shouted.

“Try to subdue them. If they won’t surrender then Hades will embrace them.” came the reply.

They marched forward and passed Aleks as they reached the gate. Before they could continue, a figure blasted through them, shouldering the Hoplites out of the way. Aleks had his spear in a white-knuckled grip as he ran past the soldiers. Surprisingly, no soldier made an effort to grab him, for what he was doing was righteous in their eyes.

Running into the courtyard, Aleks saw death in the form of bodies in green decorating the ground, with splotches of red sticking out every now and then. He barely missed the amount of dead men from the Papadakis, as his focus was on that of Cyril Cronis. He ran past the glorious statues surrounded by the dead and dying and entered into a passageway. The fighting continued as the Papadakis reached deeper into the estate in search of Cyril. Ignoring everyone, he rushed past them, following the trail of bodies. At the end of the passageway stood large double doors ajar, leading into a large hall. In the middle of it, Lucius and three of his most skilled warriors faced off against eight of the wretched scum. Their bloody and injured bodies were a testament of the difficulty to reach that far.

Behind the eight men stood Cyril with the same wicked smile on his face. He was dwarfed by a man with Middle-Eastern features standing next to him, holding a scimitar. A roar emerged from Aleks’ throat. A roar that contained all of his suffering and loss. He sprinted, injured legs working with all their might. Hearing the roar, Lucius and his men took it as a signal as they charged their eight opponents, surprising them, but more importantly distracting them. His sword slashed out and left a bloody gash across his opponent’s chest.

Aleks charged past Lucius and shouldered his opponent to the side. Lucius took advantage of the opening, pierced his sword through the man’s throat and allowed him to fall to the ground as he followed the avenger. Another man blocked Aleks’ path. Thinking quickly, he threw his spear and skewered the man’s leg. With a cry, he launched himself in the air with his knee extended. With a crunching smack, his knee makes contact with the man’s face causing him to fall with Aleks’ spear still stuck in his leg.

Aleks grabbed the spear and forcefully yanked it out of the man and stabbed his chest, making eye contact with Cyril while doing so. Seeing the fiery fury in his eyes, Cyril’s smile faltered for the first time.

“Claud, get rid of him,” Cyril ordered.

The big man settled into a balanced stance, his scimitar pointing at Aleks. “Come little man, let’s dance.” he smirked.

Ripping out the spear Aleks charged. With a leap that would make Achilles proud, Aleks flew through the air, spear thrust forward. With startling grace, the big man dodged the thrust as his sword sang in retaliation. Pain blossomed as the scimitar sliced over his chest, leaving a bloody rend in his flesh and causing his spear to leave his grasp. Not caring for the pain, Aleks rolled on the ground past Claud and ended up face to face with his mother’s murderer.

Aleksander snarled. “Die!” he screamed.

As his arm extended, his fist was formed in an Ippon ken, the same fist he used on the rooftop. With his arm in motion, his thoughts go to the wonderful smile his mother had, the way she would always listen to him and be interested in his day. The way she raised him after his father was killed. The hard work she did to put food on the table while never complaining.

Mere moments before his fist connected, a hand roughly grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled him back – pulling him away from avenging his mother. . . Looking up to see who would dare do this his eyes made contact with Claud as his mouth morphed into an evil grin. His scimitar extended in the air and dropped down in a slash.

“Better luck in the next life.” Claud voiced.

Before the scimitar could go any further, a spear pierced out of his chest, interrupting him. With disbelief etched on his face, his hands unbelievingly touch the spear piercing through him. The scimitar clattered to the ground as Aleks’ vision darkened of blood loss.

“Stand down men.” commander Leon’s voice sounded out from behind him.

Aleks’ head hit the ground and his eyes shut as tears ran down his face. Looking at the young man commander Leon sighed.

“Cyril, if you weren’t essential to the war efforts then I would personally behead you right now.”

That was the last sentence he heard before Aleks completely passed out.