Episode Thirty-Six: The Blood-Stained Throne, a Fading Melody
In the Persian Market: The Roar of an Empire
Episode Thirty-Six: The Blood-Stained Throne, a Fading Melody
1. The Trampled Corridor
“—Don’t fall back! If they break through here, the blade reaches Her Majesty!!”
Azad’s roar echoed through the marble halls.
The Macedonian elites flooding the palace were no longer an army—
they were a pack of starving wolves, victory within their jaws.
Cyrus retreated with Nirfar shielded behind him, cutting down every soldier that lunged forward.
The hands that once held a pen now clenched a sword so tightly that all feeling had vanished.
“Cyrus… it’s enough. Leave me—”
“Shut it! A merchant doesn’t walk away from a deal halfway through!”
2. Shahab’s Final Flute
Before Shahab and Kabil, the mightiest of Macedonia’s royal guards barred the way.
“…Kabil, run. You’re still young. Lead Cyrus to the hidden passage below.”
“No! I fight with you!”
“This is an order. I entrust you with the Market’s secrets.”
For the first time on the battlefield, Shahab raised the flute to his lips.
Not a spell to deceive the enemy—
but a pure requiem for Hossein and the comrades lost to the desert.
As the melody made the Macedonian soldiers hesitate for a heartbeat,
Shahab leapt alone into their midst, dagger in hand.
“…Come on. Let’s dance.
The final song of the Market of Death.”
3. The Legacy of Danesh and Inaz
“Cyrus—take these.”
Danesh pressed several thick, leather-bound volumes into Cyrus’s chest.
“Maps of the empire. Tax ledgers—no, the records of how the people lived.
…These must never fall into Alexander’s hands.”
Inaz shattered her last vial against the floor.
“I’ll buy you time. …You will go east.
…We still have the finest cinnamon to procure, after all.”
The two who once sustained the Market’s bustle stood firm—
like collapsing palace columns, tragic yet proud.
4. Silence Before the Throne
At last, Cyrus and Nirfar were driven into the innermost chamber—the Throne Room.
Behind them, the massive seat of past emperors.
Ahead, the door that would soon burst open with Macedonian steel.
“…There’s no one left,” Nirfar whispered, touching Cyrus’s blood-smeared cheek.
“No. …They’re all our debts. Debts we have to repay by living.
…That’s why this can’t end here.”
5. The Broken Door, the Appearing Lion
BOOOOM!!
The colossal doors of the Throne Room shattered at last.
From the smoke emerged Alexander the Great, golden armor soaked in blood.
He lowered his sword and walked slowly toward them.
When his generals moved to surround the pair, Alexander halted them with a single hand.
“…Magnificent, Cyrus. Your ‘market’ has scarred half my empire.”
His gaze fell upon the ledgers in Cyrus’s hands—then into Nirfar’s eyes.
The stage was set.
And before the final act, Cyrus prepared, as a merchant,
to lay down his last—and greatest—trap for the conqueror.
