The large earthen pile impacted Perseus's face directly with the force of a missile strike, smashing his nose through the helmet, knocking his teeth out, and most iconically, shattering itself into thousands of pieces and peppering his face and eyes with deadly earthen shards, embedding themselves deep into the flesh and almost blinding the poor man.
"Aghhh!" Perseus had rarely experienced that much pain and it even made the strong man reel in horror, screaming in a voice few had heard him utter.
"*Neiggggghhh*"
At Perseus's utterance of this guttural scream, the stead down below, hearing his master's pained cry, also buckled in fright and confusion, kicking its legs up in the air and trouncing around as it looked for a way to bolt.
This intense jerking motion needless to say did not have any positive effects on the king, who was already struggling to stay atop his horse due to the pain as well as just the sheer momentum of the projectile, which had been large enough to almost knock him back in on itself.
And so unfortunately, this sudden, large buckling was enough to make the man let go of the grip of his reins and lose his balance, as the king tumbled, falling off his horse backward and right onto the stone paved streets underneath.
And as he plummeted, a distinct stench of death began to fill the royal man's nostrils and his life seemed to flash before him.
'Ah! Is this how I die? Is this my end? Defeated? My country, my people, my family… all lost of the invader?' Perseus initially felt intense and bitter regret at his seemingly determined outcome, his heart screaming with a vengeance.
It would be a heart wrenching experience for any man to have grown up with everything one could possibly want and then die with nothing.
'Oh… but maybe this is not so bad. I will get to see Leosydas soon. Ahhh I missed Leosydas so much!'
However, in the next moment, Perseus seemed to suddenly come to terms with his fate, as flashes of that particular man's face surfaced into his mind, filling him with fond memories.
Perseus always felt like he had two partners in life.
One on hand was Lady Parthia- his dutiful, loving wife, his sanctuary, and where he could always seek comfort.
And on the other hand Leosydas was kind of like his naughty mistress.
Whereas the noble lady was always chaste, dutiful, and very demure in her lifestyle, being the perfect queen for Perseus and the ideal Tibian woman for all the women in the country to emulate, as well as being very conservative in bed, Leosydas was perhaps the exact opposite, always willing to pleasure his king.
And Perseus liked the two of them exactly for their distinct roles, with him definitely having much more memorable times in bed with Leosydas than his wife.
Hence these past almost three years without Leosydas had been tortuous for the king, as if felt like half of his soul had been ripped away.
He longed to meet the man again.
'Come Perseus! Come to me!' And as if the Leosydas in his mind could read his thoughts, just as Perseus wished to spend more time with him, he then suddenly heard the face speak, in that ever recognizable manly, musky voice which tugged at Perseus's heart.
'Come Perseus! We can once again ride without worry… just like we used to.' That voice again beckoned, now holding his hand out from atop a horse with a smile, on a sprawling green field that seemed boundless.
And these words quickly brought up in Perseus the vicissitudes of how the two of them spent their time in their teenage years with nary a worry in the world.
"Perseus, here!"
"Father, we are here!"
And then soon Perseus found that Leosydas was not standing alone, there was Mithriditus as well as the two princes.
And while his two sons looked just like how before they died, Mithriditus was no longer the old man everyone knew.
He looked much younger, with jet black hair and a full beard, wearing a magnificent, tight fitting armor that seemed to portray him like a heroic general right out of a painting.
Here was a man in his prime, full of life and energy, just like how Perseus remembered seeing him in his youth.
And with the three new additions came three fresh memories, such as how Mithriditus had taught Perseus the art of statecraft when he was the crown prince, and how Perseus had held and played with the two princes in their childhood.
"Perseus! What about me?" However, just as Perseus resigned himself to death, letting himself drown in the depths of this ocean of fond memories, suddenly this low, deep, very wizened voice rang out right beside his ears.
It was a voice so familiar that Perseus suspected he would remember even if he reincarnated in his next life.
For it belonged to his father.
Now, Perseus's relationship with his father was never harmonious, due to various reasons.
The old man had not approved of his relationship with either Leosydas or Lady Parthia, he did not like Perseus personally taking part in risky battles, and most of all, he did not like his son's off hand approach to the rule of the kingdom, where he delegated much of the day to day tasks of administration to Leosydas, Mithriditus, and Lord Theony, for the old man saw this was as an erosion of the royal family's power.
And perhaps he was right in that last part, as one of the three, Lord Theony had indeed betrayed them.
But that was not why he was here.
Perseus knew his presence was far more significant than that light admonishment that would have garnered him.
Perseus understood his father had come here to subconsciously represent the people, or more accurately the powers he had failed.
And this made the king's relieved resignation to death change to one that of dread and sorrow,
'*Sigh* I'm sorry Royal father. I'm sorry ancestral spirits… I'm sorry I failed you. I have failed in the sacred duty entrusted to me by all of you. I do not have the face to ask for your forgiveness. I do not deserve it. I only fear what will happen to all your legacy.'
And with all that done, and being short on time as his head was about to just hit the ground, Perseus's mind conjured up the last two people he cared for most in the world, who were still alive, as he muttered only two words, "Parthia. Phillips."
Perseus would have loved to see his beloved wife one last time and he frantically wished his proudest son could escape the battlefield today unscathed.
And that was it.
It would be this wish that would be the last thing Perseus would remember as he hit the ground, the intense impact of the fall as he the injury from the pile impact instantly knocking the man unconscious.
"Your Majesty! Quickly get His Majesty!"
But what was fortunate for Perseus was that he had fallen from his horse backward, meaning his body ended up close to his lines.
And with the person Perseus was attacking- that boy, also lying prone, it meant that by an absolute miracle, there was no one around the vicinity to finish the job.
Perseus had somehow survived this deadly encounter, as his limp body was hastily dragged to the rear lines by his bodyguards, who had jumped into the fray like fearless lions to retrieve it.
Of course, Grahtos's men too had noticed the man in shiny armor falling off his horse and tried their best to capitalize on that.
But although they were rewarded with the heads of two royal guards, the main quarry escaped.
"Dammit." And seeing so Grahtos clicked his tongue.
Although it was more of a slight vexation than actual regret.
For given the rate at which he was scything through the enemy, Grahtos was sure even if Perseus could escape death in this very instance, it would only be a matter of time he was forced to make that 'saving throw' once again.
And besides, even if Perseus had lived, it was not like Grahtos could not lie and pretend that he was dead.
It was with this crafty thought the experienced general cleverly shouted,
"That's it, men! You did it! Their king is dead! Look! His horse is empty!"
"Now attack the rest and send them to see him."
This loud statement was directed not as much as towards his men, as it was towards the enemy.which was why Grahtos specifically mentioned the horse.
Being Perseus's personal steed, this beast was of course very distinct, being large, tall, and gaudily decorated to attract attention.
Which also made it very easy to see now that there was no one on it.
"The king!"
"His Majesty!"
"No! How can this be?"
"Wuhhhhuuuu. So this is the end?"
And seeing this, seeing that their last bulwark had fallen, the already faltering men's morale collapsed, with many even breaking down in tears.
"No! The king is alive!"
"Fight! Help is just around the corner. Hold on a bit more."
"Do not panic. The enemy is lying."
Whilst seeing this although the royal bodyguards tried to rally the men, although against the great proof in front of the soldiers, their words rang hollow.
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