Chapter 1356: Chapter 71: Teacher, Wash Up and Wait for Me! (Part 3)
“Teacher, just wait to cheer for my triumphant return!”
Nero said with great confidence.
Then, as if something crossed her mind, her eyes began to gleam mischievously as she looked at her teacher:
“However, mere fighting and killing is too boring. How about we add some stakes?”
Luo En, unsuspecting, asked with a smile, “Sure, what do you want?”
“I’ve been exploring sketching and plaster sculpting lately, but I lack suitable aesthetic subjects.”
“When I win, you’ll model for me for three days!” Nero licked her lips, a hint of dagger-revealing excitement glinting in her gold-red eyes: “The kind without clothes!”
Luo En’s face darkened as he picked up the scroll tube and threw it at her head:
Nero dodged aside from the scroll tube, and as she held her head and rushed toward the door, she yelled:
“Teacher, you didn’t refuse, so I take it as a yes! Remember to strip naked and wait for me!”
What a delinquent student!
How did the atmosphere of the school become so twisted? Can’t there be even one normal one?
Luo En’s face turned as dark as the bottom of a pot, and he couldn’t help but curse inwardly.
However, as several gazes fell on him in succession, a shiver ran down his spine, and he turned to look behind him.
At this moment, Cassandra, Aglaea, and the Three Sons of Destiny, who hadn’t left yet, were all staring at him.
Their gazes, either fervent, teasing, or curious, merged into a look of readiness for action in the air:
“Teacher, we also want…”
Luo En decisively wiped out this ominous sign with a darkened face, waved his hand, and tossed them all out of the hall, giving them no chance to make any requests.
The students exchanged glances, regretfully shook their heads, and had to temporarily give up this rare chance to make a wish. They separated and hurried to their respective posts, throwing themselves into the intense preparation.
Meanwhile, at the frontline, Alexander and Caesar were also officially facing their own challenges.
On the Cilicia Plain in late autumn, the trumpeting of Persian war elephants echoed through the morning mist.
160,000 Persian troops stretched across the Pinarus River bank, with a width of four kilometers in their array. At the center stood the Persian Immortal Army with feathered headdresses, while cavalry from more than a dozen Persian provinces were deployed on the wings—Cappadocians wielding scimitars, and Bactrians hoisting long spears.
From a distance, the sea of heads seemed endless, a dense, black mass stretching to the horizon.
In contrast, Alexander and Caesar commanded just over 40,000 Roman soldiers.
Although they had secured advantageous terrain beforehand, their defense line was exceptionally thin, like a bubble ready to burst at the slightest touch.
“So, how confident are you?” Caesar patted the wall’s compacted earth and looked at Alexander beside him.
“If it were Cyrus, Gambis II, or Darius I…those Persian emperors knowledgeable in warfare, we’d indeed be in some danger. Unfortunately, this time the Persian commander is an inexperienced greenhorn. It won’t be so easy for him to swallow us.”
Alexander put on his silver helmet and looked disdainfully across the river at the towering figure surrounded by the Persian Immortal Army.
Was his name Darius III?
Although outwardly a benevolent ruler sympathetic to his soldiers, this fact also rendered him unable to impose control over his soldiers.
Therefore, even before the battle officially began, the enemy’s formation had already become hopelessly disorganized.
Adding to this, his repeated rushed pursuits, followed by suspicious slowdowns, demonstrated his lack of decisive courage at critical moments, his intense emotional swings, easily elated, and just as easily deflated.
These characteristics might be harmless for a royalty living for enjoyment but were undoubtedly fatal flaws for a military commander.
A mediocrity not suited for the battlefield.
Alexander gave his assessment in his mind, feeling no threat from the vastly outnumbering enemy before him.
As the Persian troops on the other side began advancing, this Macedonian prince mounted his horse, stroked Bucephalus’ mane, drew his sword casually, and pointed it forward, the blade’s cold glint piercing the morning mist:
“Everyone, war is not a mere game of numbers; let us show the opposite side how to wage a battle!”
The Companion Cavalry assembled neatly around him, erupted in booming laughter, and shouted in unison with a heroic roar: