Chapter 1367: Chapter 76: What Does It Mean for a Battleship to Stand Up? (Part 2)
Even though he was eventually subdued, the fact that the gods intervened personally is evidence of how elite he and his Companion Cavalry were.
Of course, being able to gather so many excellent soldiers is credited to his identity as the Son of Zeus and to the two kidneys of his deceased father.
—Without his Heavenly Father’s millennia-long rampant procreation and the trend he set, how could Greece have produced so many high-quality demigods?
“Everyone, glory is within reach, conquest is within reach! Charge!”
Alexander drew his sword and shouted; the Companion Cavalry behind him responded in unison.
Both sides converged into a torrent, unstoppable, aiming straight at Darius III atop the war elephants.
Everywhere it passed, people and horses were overturned, with countless deaths and injuries.
However, facing this unstoppable momentum, Darius III had no intention of retreating; instead, a hint of disdain and arrogance appeared on his face.
As the distance closed, Alexander’s heart pounded inexplicably, a certain ominous premonition brewing inside.
“This is the end, everyone.”
A cold, stern voice came from the Persian formations, somewhat low yet clearly resonating in every ear.
Simultaneously, a figure stepped out from behind Darius III.
A golden armor as dazzling as the blazing sun enveloped his tall frame, his white hair like snow draping over his shoulders, and the golden Sun Wheel mark on his forehead shimmered with divine light, making him appear as solemn as a deity. Those amber eyes remained eternally calm like a deep well, yet they harbored a piercing sharpness able to see through all falsehood.
In his hand, he grasped a spear shaped like a sun wheel, its shaft entwined with ominous flames, the flames falling from the spear tip melting the sand into glass.
A golden sun slowly ascended, emitting a heat so intense it warped the surrounding space.
“Remember my name, Garna…”
In mid-air, the white-haired youth in golden armor proclaimed his name to the soon-to-die before him, showing final mercy.
Immediately, he thrust the spear wheel forward, a golden-red brilliance cascading forth as a scorching fiery stream carved a dazzling trail, crashing heavily towards the charging Companion Cavalry.
A deity? Could the Persian army be hiding such a trump card?
Alexander was shocked, immediately maneuvering the Divine Power Wheel under him to accelerate sharply, leaving his Companion Cavalry behind, as he alone crashed into the descending golden blaze.
As the dust and smoke gradually dissipated, a crater a hundred meters in diameter was revealed on the battlefield, scattered with bodies and armor plates that had not been entirely incinerated, and the burnt stench of scorched protein lingered.
At the crater’s edge, Alexander shakily stood up, his clothing and armor burned away, his skin red as a flame, and his dagger in hand melted through.
Accompanied by a violent cough, golden blood continuously seeped from his pores, forming a thin layer of protection to mitigate the deadly high heat surrounding him for an ordinary person.
Meanwhile, the Divine Power Wheel and the two Flying Hoof Thunder Bulls he once possessed were already reduced to nothing.
If it weren’t for this divine tool shielding him from the majority of the impact earlier, he would have met his end right there.
Garna, in mid-air, was equally surprised.
He hailed from the Indian Divine Era, the son of the Sun God Surya, the protagonist in one of India’s two great epics, the Mahabharata, possessing divine-like power despite his demigod lineage.
In terms of status, he was just a notch below the ‘Hero Kings’ of each Divine Era.
He initially thought that with one strike, this unknown boy and the mortal army behind him would be obliterated.
Unexpectedly, the opponent managed to withstand his attack.
A touch of admiration appeared on Garna’s face, and he asked deeply, “You’re quite impressive, what’s your name?”
“Alexander!” Alexander answered proudly.
“Very well, I’ll remember it.”
Garna nodded, a hint of helplessness flickering in his eyes.
Actually, as a hero from the Indian Divine Era, his presence in the Persian army camp was merely an accident.
Not long ago, Darius III, to attain great achievements and win divine favor, took on the task from the Persian Pantheon to expand outward.
Knowing his limitations, he not only recruited many people but also spent considerable sums to purchase a fleet of Vimana Light Boats from the Indian Divine Era.
The seller was none other than King Pandu, the ruler of the Kuru Kingdom and Garna’s stepfather.
To ensure these critical supplies arrived safely and foster good relations with the Persian royalty represented by Darius III, the exceptionally powerful Garna became the escort for the Vimana Light Boats.
As a ruler, Darius III might have been inadequate, but as a monarch, he treated others with kindness, often respecting and favoring talented individuals.
Thus, it was logical that Garna ended up staying in the Persian camp.
Though Darius III was tactful enough not to insist on Garna’s involvement in battles, Garna, having received much attention from the Persian crown prince, and considering the alliance between Persia and India, could not just stand idly by.
—Meeting me, well, it could only mean bad luck for you.
Garna repressed his stray thoughts, slowly raised the golden spear wheel in his hand, preparing to utterly annihilate the army threatening the Persian Empire.
However, before he could act, a golden-red beam, spanning over a hundred meters in diameter, streaked across the sky and crashed into him with unstoppable speed, driving him into a distant mountain peak.