The sun finally rose over the horizon, like it always did for millenniums, signaling the start of another day as it released its radiant rays and illuminated the vast world that lay in front of it.
Its sparkling rays cast aside the mist that tried to snuggle the ground and exposed everything the mistress of the night tried to conceal for the whole world to bear witness to.
The citizens of Adhan finally understood the extent of the damage caused by the fire and they also saw their god-king entering the city in a magnificent procession, finally deposing the usurper Ptolomy.
Nulafzam and Ptolomy rode through the forest, bee-lining for Matrak, the warm, gentle sunlight feeling like the hot iron brands on their skins.
They knew the greeting of the sun signaled the start of their relentless pursuit by Amenheraft.
And at last, the true carnage of the battlefield, especially the killing and burying of the tens of thousands of soldiers, was laid bare for the mercenaries and Cantagenans to witness. ｏｖ𝚕．ｃｏ𝚖
A strange striking mound had appeared on the flat ground between the two valleys that seemed to be emanating a strange smell and was being guarded by giant vultures and hungry wolves.
It did not take a genius to figure out what was underneath.
The Adhanians had buried the sacrificed and killed, both theirs and Cantagenas, in a giant pit and left after simply covering it.
Alexander had himself seen the mound and ruminated how in just a few months, mother nature will likely transform this grotesque mass of mangled flesh, bone, and blood into a meadow of trees and flowers, removing most signs of the carnage it once witnessed.
‘How significant is living, if everyone ends up the same?’ It was a question that haunted philosophers and thinkers since humans could think and it drilled its way into Alexander’s mind too.
The boy had woken even before the sun had, his body refreshed and his mind eager to witness the things today likely held.
The excitement in him was so strong that even after the brutal physical exhaustion of the past few days, his body seemed back to its peak with just a bit of sleep and food. ready to take on the world.
Maybe it was the organic foods, or the clean air, or the constant physical exercise, or just plain genetics, but after using this body for ten years Alexander knew exactly just how superior this body was his old one and he cherished it.
This one seemed to be an upgraded version, stronger, faster, and better.
‘A lot of good things will happen today,’ He cheered himself as he performed calisthenics in front of his tent, even before the light penetrated the darkness.
Then at the crack of dawn, just as the first thin white line appeared on the horizon he decided to start gathering his forces, and hence he went to wake his master, who to Alexander’s ‘horror’ discovered him dead.
He used this excuse to quickly wake up the soldiers in his mercenary group, after which they were hastily assembled to perform a simple funereal ritual for their founder, then buried him on a hill near his tent.
The entire thing went off like a rehearsed play, with no one raising the question about how he died.
Fever, exhaustion, and age were Alexander’s expert analysis.
And no one questioned it, or at least no one whose voices mattered.
For those whose voices mattered all knew or did not care about the old man, save for Pallidus who was left all alone.
Thus the death of Aristotle caused little stir and Alexander had essentially become free.
Done with this practice run, Alexander then turned his mind to the real prize, Damious.
Since the camp was still in relative tranquility, he guessed that Damious’s cold body had yet to be discovered and he decided to beef up the defenses of his camp before his minions inevitably came looking for blood.
Alexander had little doubt these people will hold their medical camp responsible for their leader’s death with or without evidence and he wanted to be ready.
So, after the funeral rites, he urged the soldiers to prepare breakfast and then quickly assembled his army, reinforced Cambyses’s tent, increased the guard in the medical camp, and gained himself a full contingent of bodyguards.
Alexander was ready!
And soon things unfolded quite textbook style.
The bodyguards beside Damious had also fallen asleep due to exhaustion, and when one of them was woken by the sting of the sun rays hitting his eyes, he finally noticed the pale, cold, unmoving, body of their leader.
He immediately went into panic mode, shouting and screaming as he tried to wake his fellow comrades.
And right on cue, Alexander who was already there acting as a medical staff came to his rescue, accompanied by his entourage of Menes and Theocles along with a few others, all fully armed.
“It seems leader Damious has succumbed to his injuries. My condolences” Theocles pointed out the elephant in the room.
“Bullshit. You,” one of the mercenaries menacingly pointed to Alexander and said, “killed him.”
Alexander only sneered and replied, “We all saw you sleeping while you were supposed to guard your leader. It was your negligence that killed your leader. Now you want to blame it on me? Is that the best could you could come up with?”
At this point, Menes spoke out his rehearsed line, “Alexander is right. We suspect you to be guilty of derision of duty or worse spies from Adhania. Come with us!”
“Joke! Who do you think you are?” Naturally, the mercenaries refused to back down.
“*Clang*” At once all the soldiers following Menes drew their weapons, unsheathing swords, and pointing spears at the outnumbered mercenaries.
“If you do not come quietly with us, then we will treat you as spies.” Menes issued one last warning.
But even against such bad odds, the loyal, veterans did not budge one bit, determined to rather die than be humiliated as pawns in a conspiracy.
As Menes was about to order the massacre, Alexander suddenly turned himself into a mediator.
“Wait, wait, we don’t want to capture and kill you or anything!” He shouted to try and defuse the situation.
He then continued, “Menes is not quite good with words, brother. You just misunderstood him. What he meant to say was that you should all stay here and we will call the various leader who can listen to both sides of our story and determine who is at fault here.”
This compromise seemed to cool the bodyguards and so they waited, in the meantime sending their own messengers to inform all their brothers of their leader’s death.
They did not have to wait for long, as hearing of Damious’s dead and understanding a leadership crisis was at hand, the last three remaining mercenary leaders- Menicus, Melodias, and Petricuno quickly presented themselves in the medical camp.
Along with Melodias also came Damious’s once-to-be bride, Alexander’s mistress- Cambyses with Gratz, Heliptos, and Camius in tow.
Alexander had relieved Bartholomew to get some sleep at dawn and switched in the talkative merc.
With all the required party present, the show began.
Menicus, being the eldest here was given the honor of starting the question but his opening statement was weird.
Instead of taking witness accounts, he looked at Alexander, carefully burning the boy’s image in his mind, and addressed, “So you are the slave that everyone calls the son of Gaia. Yes, yes, only someone blessed by the gods could do what you did. Your warning saved his old bone’s life. Thank you.” He afterward performed a slight bow.
This display of a freeman bowing to a slave showed just how partial Menicus was willing to be towards Alexander and all the faces of soldiers from Damious’s camp seemed like they had swallowed a fly.
The other mercenary leaders also seem to understand the hint that Menicus had already made up his mind.
But, Damious’s soldiers still made up more than a third of their remaining force and all present here knew that they had to give them at least a semblance of a fair trial.
So the hot-headed Petricuno jumped in on the conversion, “They say you are the one who came up with this medical camp, and that your skills are unmatched.” He addressed Alexander.
“So tell me how do you think he died?”
“I have not gotten to examine the body, but my guess is he caught a cold and died. Look” Alexander pointed to the bare man and said, “I instructed all the patients to properly cover themselves so they don’t catch a cold. But he does not have a single piece of cloth on him.”
“Bullshit. The leader could swim in frozen lakes naked and not even sneeze. Who are you kidding by saying he dies from a mere cold? He does not even have a runny nose!” Gratz shouted in an enraged voice.
Of course, he and his brothers as a whole were not buying it.
But his last sentence had the inadvertent effect of directing everyone’s sight towards Damious’s nose which was leaking black fifth common in a dead body.
There was no way to verify the claim and many shot suspicious gazes toward Gratz, doubting his credibility