Episode Four: The Infernal Labyrinth, the Serpent’s Lure
At the Persian Bazaar: The Roar of an Empire
Episode Four: The Infernal Labyrinth, the Serpent’s Lure
1. The Sinking of Steel
With the rising sun, Macedonian elite infantry advanced into the bazaar’s main street.
What greeted them, however, was not enemy ranks, but eerily silent, deserted alleys.
“Advance carefully. This is a trap.”
The moment the officer gave the order, the stone pavement beneath their feet sank unnaturally.
By Danesh’s calculations, Kabir and his people had spent days hollowing out the underground supports, removing the pillars one by one.
“Uwaaaah!”
Burdened by their heavy armor, the hoplites could neither flee nor recover, swallowed one after another by an underground quagmire.
Below, vast amounts of waste oil and slick soap-water—prepared by Inaz—had been poured in.
The phalanx, proud of its iron discipline, flailed helplessly like frogs mired in mud.
2. Shahab’s Flute: A Melody of Death
Into the chaos drifted a thin, piercing flute sound—from nowhere and everywhere.
It was Shahab.
Hidden in the bazaar’s attic, where sunlight never reached, he played his beloved flute.
The sound cut through the soldiers’ minds like a curse, sharpening their terror.
“Where is it?! Where’s that sound coming from?!”
The instant a soldier looked up, black shadows fell from the gaps in the roof.
They were dozens of cobras under Shahab’s control.
“…Greet the king of the desert.”
Venomous fangs struck at armor joints, exposed necks, unguarded flesh.
Dancing to the flute’s rhythm, the snakes harvested lives with ruthless precision.
Shahab’s expression never changed. He simply continued playing,
turning the alleyways into a screaming inferno of living hell.
3. Kabir’s “Invisible War”
The beggars, masters of the bazaar, wrapped themselves in brown cloth, blending into walls and rubble as if they were part of the ruins.
They were not warriors—
but they were geniuses of assassination.
The moment a Macedonian soldier passed by, claws and short blades burst from what had seemed like walls.
“This ain’t a road for you to walk.”
Kabir’s aged voice echoed low in the darkness.
They never fought head-on.
They cut legs, dragged enemies into the shadows, and never let them return to the sun.
To the Macedonian army, the bazaar became a cannibal labyrinth, where comrades vanished with every step.
4. Cyrus’s Skirmish: The Rampaging Camels
As the enemy lost morale, trapped deep within the maze,
Cyrus’s camel cavalry charged from behind.
“Bastards! Tear apart their retreating backs! Mercy ain’t sold in this market!”
Cyrus’s sword traced blazing arcs through the dusk.
Fire arrows loosed by Shahin ignited the spice dust prepared by Inaz,
triggering a chain of explosions throughout the alleys.
Roaring flames, choking chili stench, and screams.
The elegant melody of the kettlebî here was rewritten into mad percussion.
5. The Approaching “Wrath of the Gods”
But before Cyrus and his men—drunk on victory—
a single mounted warrior emerged, calm and unscathed.
Silver armor gleaming, flames raging behind him.
A supreme general, closest confidant of Alexander the Great.
“…Clever tricks. Market rats.
Is this the ‘annihilation’ you desired?”
As he raised his spear, the thunderous bass of tens of thousands waiting outside the market swelled.
All the market’s traps had been spent.
The age of wit and ambush had ended.
Now, true war
was advancing straight toward the heart of the bazaar.
