Episode Thirteen: The Blue Gale
“In the Persian Bazaar: The Roar of an Empire”
Episode Thirteen: The Blue Gale — The Threat of the Hetairoi
1. The Trembling Horizon
While Shahab’s sabotage held the Macedonian infantry at bay, a single streak of blue cut across the desert horizon.
It was the unit Alexander the Great trusted above all else—the strongest heavy cavalry in Macedon:
the Hetairoi, “The King’s Companions.”
“…Fast. Unbelievably fast,”
Danesh murmured, his voice shaking as he peered through the observation lens.
As if mocking the desert’s heat and Shahab’s poison alike, five hundred riders drove their warhorses at full gallop. Blue cloaks billowed behind golden armor, and the earth itself trembled as they charged straight toward Cyrus’s camp.
“Cyrus! They’re coming in without waiting for the infantry!”
Azad shouted, ordering the mercenaries into defensive formation—but a tension he had never known before tightened his face.
2. Hossein’s Absence, Cyrus’s Struggle
Once, the peace of the market had been protected by a single named blade—Hossein.
If he were still alive, no hero, no matter how fearsome, would have crossed the line before the princess.
But now, all Cyrus possessed were a hastily assembled force of a thousand—and the mercantile cunning honed in the bazaar.
“Hossein… how would you fight this?”
For a fleeting moment, Cyrus touched the guard of Hossein’s sword—the keepsake left behind.
“…No. That’s not it.
I’ll protect what you died for—my way.”
He barked orders to Inaz and Kabir.
“Use the market’s wisdom! Don’t meet them head-on! Turn their speed against them!”
3. The Spice Trap
The Hetairoi vanguard burst into the camp, kicking up clouds of sand.
“Ghosts of Persia! Receive the punishment for refusing the Great King’s mercy!”
A Macedonian commander roared, thrusting his long spear—the xyston—forward.
At that instant—
The sand beneath their hooves exploded.
“Now!!”
At Kabir’s signal, vast quantities of finely crushed glass and slick, specially prepared spice oil, buried beneath the surface, erupted upward—driven by compressed air traps devised by Danesh.
“Hiiiiiih!!”
The famed warhorses lost their footing as glass shards tore into their legs.
The cavalry’s greatest strength—its mass and speed—turned inward, collapsing under its own force.
Falling riders smashed into those behind them. The blue-cloaked host spiraled into chaos, toppling like a line of dominos.
4. Nilfar’s “Queen’s Arrow”
From the high ground, Nilfar raised her voice over the turmoil.
“Loose your arrows! Reclaim your pride!”
She herself took up a bow, drawing the string tight.
The breathing Hossein had taught her.
The tremor of the string against her fingers.
Her arrow flew—piercing the plume of an enemy commander’s helmet—and ignited the spirit of the Market Legion.
“OOOOOOOOH!!”
Azad’s mercenaries surged in from the flank.
This was no longer cavalry warfare.
It was a brutal, mud-soaked slaughter between the “King’s Companions,” dragged down to the earth, and the enraged people whose market had been burned.
5. The Afterglow of the Reaper
After a savage clash, the Hetairoi suffered dozens of casualties and were forced to withdraw—for now.
Yet there was no triumph on Cyrus’s face.
“…Was that all of them?”
“No,” Shahab replied, emerging from the shadows as he wiped blood from his knife.
“That was only a forward element.
The main force of the Hetairoi—thousands of blue demons—still rides beside the Great King.”
Cyrus stared across the desert, now stained by the colors of dusk.
If Hossein were alive, perhaps this victory would have come easier.
But they had paid for it with their own blood.
“Not a bad dividend,” Cyrus muttered.
“…But the next ‘purchase’ will cost a hell of a lot more.
Brace yourselves, you bastards.”
