The earth trembled beneath the relentless march of the Greek army as they surged toward the walls of Lyrnessus. The sound of countless footsteps grew louder, shaking the very foundations of the city. Despite the defenses that lay before them—imposing walls, fortified gates, and the perfect vantage for archers—they pressed forward without hesitation.

    Faces twisted with madness, they rushed across the open field, a perfect target for the awaiting defenders. Yet, there was no fear, no hesitation. All that filled their hearts was a thirst for glory and the promise of rewards.

    Mynes, standing tall atop the battlements, surveyed the scene with grim determination. His eyes moved over the approaching horde—faces twisted into smirks, wild eyes filled with the lust for battle. He raised his hand high, the signal that his archers had been waiting for.

    "Archers!" he bellowed, his voice commanding and clear.

    The archers stationed along the walls moved with precision. They readied their bows, strings pulled taut, arrows poised to strike. The tension was maximum as they aimed high, their arrows glinting like dark feathers against the pale sky. Every man awaited the prince''s next move, their breath held in unison.

    Mynes watched the Greeks for a moment longer, feeling the weight of the impending clash. Then, with a swift motion, he brought his hand down. "Release!"

    In perfect synchronization, a storm of arrows shot into the air, darkening the sky like a black cloud of death. The arrows soared high, momentarily blotting out the sun before descending in a deadly arc toward the charging Greeks below.

    "Shields!" Patroclus''s voice rang out over the battlefield, sharp and steady.

    The Myrmidons, Achilles'' elite soldiers, moved with flawless discipline. Without a flicker of fear or hesitation, they raised their shields as one, planting their feet firmly into the ground. The arrows slammed into their shields with a cacophony of thuds, but not a single one breached their ranks. Their faces remained impassive, as though the barrage was little more than a passing nuisance.

    The rest of the Greek army, however, did not fare so well. Composed of soldiers from various regions and armies, they lacked the unshakable discipline of the Myrmidons. Chaos erupted among their ranks as the rain of arrows descended upon them. Screams filled the air as many fell, arrows embedding themselves deep into skulls and throats.

    Blood sprayed across the battlefield, staining the earth beneath them.

    Among the few who stood their ground were the Spartans and Athenians, their formations holding firm. Their shields, though less flawless than the Myrmidons'', still managed to block many of the deadly projectiles. They pressed on, determined to break through despite the carnage surrounding them.

    And then there were the Heroes of the Empire of Light.

    Unlike the rest of the Greek soldiers, this elite group, numbering only a dozen, had little to fear from the arrows. Siara Parker stood at their center, her staff raised high, glowing with magical energy. She was one of the most skilled mages among them, her magic a sight to behold.

    Above them, a massive dome of shimmering water floated, rippling and undulating like a protective veil. The arrows that rained down upon her and her comrades were no match for the spell. The water caught them mid-flight, slowing them to a crawl before rendering them completely harmless.

    Arrows that once fell with deadly intent now floated gently within the dome, suspended like leaves drifting in a still pond. The Heroes moved forward with ease, untouched and unhindered.

    BADOOOM!

    The massive gates, once so sturdy and strong, crumbled under the impact. The explosion sent debris flying in all directions as the doors of Lyrnessus were completely obliterated. Rubble scattered across the battlefield, and the path into the city now lay wide open.

    Mynes stared in shock, his face turning pale as the gravity of the situation sank in. The walls that had protected his people were now nothing but ruins.

    "E-Everyone! With me! Get down immediately!" Mynes barked out the order, regaining his composure as best as he could.

    He grabbed his sword and, without hesitation, leapt from the battlements to the ground below, determined to fight with his people in what seemed like the city''s last stand.

    BADAM!

    The force of the impact echoed through the streets as Mynes landed hard, only to be immediately met by a vicious attack.

    "DIE!" Aiden''s voice snarled with malicious glee, his massive sword swinging down toward the prince with lethal intent.

    Mynes barely managed to react in time, bringing his sword up to parry. The strength of Aiden''s strike sent shockwaves through his arms, and the force of the blow drove him back, sending him crashing into the wall of a nearby house. The structure crumbled from the impact, and dust and debris billowed into the air.

    "Prince Mynes!" came the horrified cries of his soldiers as they saw their leader nearly buried in rubble.

    "You Greek bastard!!" one of Mynes'' men roared, his voice filled with rage.

    Without hesitation, they charged toward Aiden, their fury burning like a wildfire. But Aiden wasn''t alone. His classmates, along with the Greek army, had already breached the walls and now flooded into the city. The once orderly streets of Lyrnessus were now filled with chaos as battle erupted on every corner.

    The clash of steel against steel rang out like thunder. Soldiers screamed in both rage and pain as the Greeks, driven by bloodlust and the promise of glory, fought with ruthless efficiency.

    "Protect the city! Protect the prince!!" one of the soldiers shouted desperately, their voice breaking under the strain of battle.

    Losing Prince Mynes would mean losing the heart and soul of Lyrnessus. Without their leader, the morale of the defenders would shatter like glass, and the city would fall entirely into the hands of the Greeks.

    "We have to hold until Troy sends reinforcements!"