20: The Four Horsemen's Approach

Beyond the outskirts of Athens lay wilderness, shrouded in darkness, pierced by sporadic bursts of fire. An army advanced, its figures a blur in the night.

Soldiers wore red and white striped turbans, wielding guns and shields. Their eyes gleamed like those of wolves—sinister and ferocious.

Leading the vanguard were two imposing men, akin to massive bears. One rode a white horse, bearing a large bow. The bow's platinum gleam contrasted sharply against the dark night.

He sported fleece armor, white plush adorning his neck—an unusual sight in the summer night.

The other astride a red horse had blood-red skin, exuding an aura of cold dread in the night.

At his side hung a broad-bladed sword, its surface etched with mysterious, crimson patterns.

Such a colossal sword typically rests on one's back, yet he sheathed it at his waist, able to unsheathe it single-handedly—testament to his immense strength.

"Plague, can you discern the city in the distance?" the rider of the red horse inquired.

Plague gazed afar, then shook his head. "Don't fret. The war will be distant. Athens' populace has already fallen victim to my viruses. Upon our arrival, we can claim the city without combat."

The rider of the red horse, War, curled his lips in displeasure. "I crave a grand slaughter. Skipping battle is quite dull."

Plague smirked. "Then pray to Lord Tianqi that I won't utilize Plague. You, with your explosive power, can revel in carnage."

War chuckled. Though he relished bloodshed, fulfilling Lord Tianqi's directive with ease left him with no qualms.

Suddenly, both men's expressions shifted. Their steeds sensed their unease, halting in response.

Plague turned to War, his demeanor grave. "Did you feel it too?"

War nodded. "Someone's observing us from a distance. My instincts alerted me."

Meanwhile, atop Athens' wall, Rhodes discerned the Egyptian army's march from a distance.

Beside him, Fabas ventured a timid query. "Master Rhodes, may I inquire why you ventured out so late?"

Awoken from slumber by an Athenian soldier's news of Rhodes' ascent to the city wall, Fabas had remained uneasy, promptly following suit.

"It's fitting for you to be here." Rhodes gestured to the distance. "This plain is vulnerable. What would you do if attacked?"

Fabas stamped the ground. "Our towering city walls and countless archers can handle ordinary forces."

Rhodes shook his head. He understood that the towering city walls held little sway against the apostles of the apocalypse, especially War—a mutant endowed with explosive prowess. Once he approached the walls, detonating a breach, their defenses would crumble.

"Tomorrow morning, assemble your soldiers beyond the city." Rhodes instructed casually before departing.

Fabas watched Rhodes' retreating figure, baffled by his intentions. Ever since their encounter, Rhodes had remained an enigma, eluding comprehension at every turn.

Though a mere youth, he concealed his thoughts with the guile of a seasoned, scheming fox. Confronting such an individual was perpetually intimidating.

A wordless night passed, yielding to morning.

Rhodes led Sig to the plains outside Athens, where Fabas had amassed troops awaiting Rhodes' directives.

"Sig, impart them basic formations to minimize casualties while serving as bait." Rhodes instructed, then departed without further words.

Fabas observed Rhodes' departure, pondering the motives behind his actions. Sig, meanwhile, stood before the troops.

"Listen to me! Life begets death! Today, you'll experience hell, learning the essence of survival on the battlefield!" Sig declared, brandishing his spear, its tip radiating white light before discharging a shot.

"Boom!"

The blast gouged a large pit before the soldiers. Those in close proximity stumbled, paralyzed by fear.

"Next time, it won't be as brief." Sig raised an eyebrow.

Soldiers exchanged apprehensive glances before dispersing, rattled.

...

Rhodes reached a secluded corner of Athens, activating his communicator to dispatch instructions to Asgard's soldiers.

Soon after, a thousand Asgardian troops materialized before Rhodes in a radiant spectrum, donning bronze armor and wielding spears.

"Salute, officer!" They knelt halfway, heads bowed.

These were ordinary Asgardian soldiers, not part of Odin's elite.

To expedite Laufey's pursuit, Rhodes refrained from summoning the Pegasus troop, aware their presence would deter him. He needed time to employ the ice treasure box.

"You are tasked with two objectives." Rhodes raised two fingers.

"First, split into two teams and wait here. Second, upon my skyward flame signal, converge on the designated position and prepare to launch an assault."

"Understood!"

By noon, Sieg's training yielded fruitful results. Asgard's chief guards imparted fundamental tactics, enhancing formation precision.

Now, they executed orders with precision, reaching designated spots promptly.

For a soldier, obedience is paramount—this principle had become ingrained.