Finally, the day had arrived!
Though the circumstances differed wildly from what he had originally anticipated, Troy was finally within reach.
Night mounted the pure white steed gifted by Agamemnon, still clad in the divine armor that he couldn't figure out how to remove, opting instead to simply drape a clean white cloak over his shoulders before leaning down to extend a hand to Briseis.
Under the bright sunlight, the handsome hero looked every bit the pure, untainted savior extending a hand of absolute deliverance.
Stepping back into the open world, feeling the bright rays and the lush green grass beneath her feet while gazing at the hope that was now close enough to touch,
Briseis wept tears of overwhelming emotion.
"Mount up, my princess,"
Night urged softly, signaling that it was time to move.
As a member of the Trojan royalty, addressing her as a princess was entirely accurate.
Hearing his words, Briseis found her gaze locking onto Night's strikingly handsome face, her cheeks flushing a delicate crimson before she firmly grasped the hope he offered.
With a powerful pull,
Night hoisted her onto the horse behind him and said. "Hold tight," as they prepared to make their escape.
The nature of the ride made physical contact entirely unavoidable, and Briseis instinctively slid her hands beneath his cloak, wrapping her arms securely around his torso.
Feeling the firm, defined lines of his abdominal muscles beneath her palms, her heart hammered against her ribs as a deep blush consumed her beautiful face.
Her inner thoughts descended into a panicked flurry over what she was doing to her heroic savior.
However, even so, she couldn't help but marvel at how remarkably strong he felt, secretly wishing she could squeeze just a fraction tighter.
"Stop rubbing," Night murmured dryly. "Once we escape the Greek camp, you can hold onto me for as long as you want."
Briseis's eyes lit up as she blurted out automatically, "Really?!"
Before the words could fully leave her mouth, Athena, who had transformed into an owl and perched quietly on Night's shoulder, suddenly snapped her sharp, piercing gaze toward the blue-haired young beauty.
That divine, oppressive look gave Briseis quite a fright, making it abundantly clear that the young girl's enthusiastic reaction had left the goddess highly displeased.
"Lord Griffith," Briseis whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Is... is that your pet?"
Night's tone instantly turned incredibly stern and serious. "Mind your words. This is the divine avatar of the great Goddess of Wisdom and War, Athena.
She will be shielding our scent from the wind to ensure we can escape the Greeks together."
Briseis's eyes went wide with absolute shock as a tremor of profound awe rippled through her.
A goddess!
The great Goddess Athena herself!
She realized that Lord Griffith truly was an extraordinary figure to receive the personal protection and profound favor of such a deity.
A deep sense of adoration for Night filled her heart, alongside a newfound reverence for Athena.
Even though she and her sister primarily worshipped Apollo, the Lord of Light, the illustrious name of Athena, the beautiful and wise goddess, had long been revered across the lands, with countless mortals counting themselves among her faithful.
Briseis quickly lowered her head to offer her formal respects, thanking her lucky stars that she hadn't said anything genuinely foolish.
The owl merely gave a sharp nod, appearing entirely uninterested in the girl as Athena transmitted her voice directly into Night's mind.
'Move out immediately! Agamemnon has already cleared the paths ahead, so now is the perfect moment to break away. We do not have much time, because the War God Ares will discover this deception soon enough.'
Night gave a tight nod, exchanging a silent look of understanding with the owl before spurring his horse into a furious gallop.
Only after watching his silhouette completely vanish past the horizon did King Agamemnon finally step out from the shadows, staring silently at the empty path.
It was time for him to play his own part.
While he really wanted to buy Night as much time as possible, the cover story wouldn't hold if the performance lacked realism.
What he needed to do now was perfectly portray the role of the King of Mycenae who had just been brutally betrayed by the hero Griffith, knocked unconscious into a death-like slumber, and stripped of his beloved captive, only to awaken in a state of unbridled fury, single-mindedly fixated on vengeance.
'Well, since I was knocked completely unconscious, it's only fair and reasonable that I sleep for half a day before gathering my men, right?'
However, a sudden thought struck Agamemnon like a physical blow, causing his expression to warp into pure horror.
'Oh no! I completely forgot that the escape route runs directly past Achilles's encampment!'
'If that man lays eyes on Briseis, he won't try to take her by force, will he?'
Agamemnon had meticulously mapped out the absolute best path for Night to exit the Greek camp, even going so far as to reassign every patrolling hero and soldier along the route, but the fleet-footed Achilles was the one man he possessed absolutely no authority to command.
Furthermore, because Achilles had relocated his quarters to the isolated perimeter outside the main camp, Agamemnon had completely forgotten his current position over the passing days.
Consumed by sudden anxiety, the king desperately wanted to give chase, but the distance was already too great.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, running along the cleared path with Athena's divine power masking their very presence,
Night successfully slipped right past the War God's nose and approached the outer edge of the Greek camp, only to find Achilles standing directly in their path just moments before they could cross the threshold to freedom.
Beholding the powerful demigod and undisputed strongest hero of the battlefield standing right before them, Night and Athena remained perfectly composed, but Briseis felt the blood drain from her face as her slender arms wrapped tightly around Night's waist out of pure terror.
Her memories differed entirely from the original myths.
She had never had the time to develop any romantic affection for Achilles, possessing only the stark recollection of being violently captured by him, turned into a slave, and treated as a prize to be fought over between him and Agamemnon.
To her, this demigod was nothing short of a terrifying force of nature, and running into him when they were a single step away from freedom felt like a cruel twist of fate.
Yet what happened next left Briseis completely bewildered.
Achilles looked at Night's current attire and noted how closely Briseis was clinging to his back.
His gaze sharpened slightly, but he showed no sign of hostility, instead knitting his brows as he asked casually, "Yo! So you guys are finally ready to get out of here?"
His calm, entirely detached tone sounded exactly like someone asking a neighbor if they had eaten dinner yet, leaving Briseis's mind entirely unable to process the interaction.
She then watched as her heroic savior replied with equal calm. "Indeed. My apologies, Achilles, but this departure won't be following standard protocol. The situation has gotten quite complicated. To put it simply, I've been targeted by the War God."
Achilles immediately understood the gravity of the words. "Do you need a hand?"
"No," Night countered. "We have the protection of Goddess Athena's divine power to evade the War God's tracking, but bringing another person along only increases the risk of being discovered."
Achilles closed his eyes, absorbing the information. "Understood. Go then.
I won't be escaping with you this time around. The War God Ares, huh? Truly a terrifying adversary! I've changed my mind, Griffith."
Night blinked, caught slightly off guard. "What do you mean?"
.
.
.
(End of the chapter)