Chapter 159: Lyrnessus

Even Menelaus who had once laid claim to the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen of Troy, found himself captivated by the new arrival. Though in his heart he knew that Helen's beauty was unrivaled, there was something about this woman, Aisha, that stirred a different kind of admiration in him. Where Helen was a beacon of light and perfection, Aisha was the embodiment of mystery and shadow.

Her black hair, her half-Asian features, and her armor—everything about her whispered of a beauty not bound by the expectations of the world but carved from a different, darker allure.

Aisha stood at the entrance of the tent for a brief moment, surveying the gathered kings and heroes with a calm, discerning gaze.

Like Sienna, Siara, Gwen, and Courtney, Aisha had initially refused to come when Liphiel summoned her to greet the Greek Kings. The very thought of standing before those men, many of whom had already leered at her and her classmates, disgusted her.

Ever since they had arrived, the Greek warriors, with their hardened bodies and minds warped by years of fighting, had gazed at the young women as though they were divine beings descended from Olympus itself. To them, Aisha and the other five greatest beauties were nothing short of goddesses—a rare and unattainable prize after abandoning their homes for the grueling war.

Aisha despised the way those warriors looked at them, as if their beauty was a reward for their suffering. The idea of being objectified in such a crude manner was enough to keep her away, but in the end, her curiosity overrode her disgust.

She wanted to witness how these so-called legendary kings and heroes would strategize for a true war, and if they were as mighty as the myths made them out to be.

Stepping into the tent, Aisha felt every gaze lock onto her once more, though she had grown accustomed to this reaction. The air was thick with the sound of heavy breathing and silent awe. Liphiel's smile brightened at the sight of her.

"Hero Aisha, you finally came," Liphiel greeted warmly, her eyes reflecting both relief and admiration.

Aisha gave a small nod in acknowledgment but said nothing, her expression unreadable. She could already feel the weight of lustful gazes crawling over her skin, one of them more prominent than the rest.

Ajax laughed heartily, his coarse voice filling the tent. "That's for sure, that bastard always craves the bloodshed," he said, referring to Achilles, his words heavy with crude admiration.

Odysseus, ever focused on strategy, gestured toward the map once again. "Lyrnessus won't yet be aware of our early arrival. This is our chance to strike while they're unprepared. We can take them by surprise and conquer the city with minimal resistance. Let's not waste time."

Before anyone could respond, Liphiel stepped forward.

"We will also lend our assistance," she said calmly.

Agamemnon's face twisted in displeasure, his pride wounded. He had never felt comfortable around these outsiders—the Heroes of the Empire of Light. To him, this war belonged to the Greeks, and no foreign power should outshine his army. "That won't be necessary," he said curtly, his tone dismissive.

Liphiel, unperturbed, offered a knowing smile. "I believe it is necessary, King Agamemnon. If we are to be taken seriously by you and your men, we must prove ourselves on the battlefield. Observe us, and you will understand why the Goddess Hera herself has vouched for us. We do not intend to interfere; we will merely show you our strength."

Odysseus nodded in agreement. "I think it's a good idea, King Agamemnon. Let us see what these Heroes from another world are capable of. It may serve us well to know their strengths."

Agamemnon scowled, but with Odysseus aligning with Liphiel, he had little choice but to concede. "So be it," he grumbled.

Odysseus, satisfied with the outcome, turned back to Liphiel. "Very well, Lady Liphiel. Prepare your Heroes. We will soon move out."

As the tension in the room began to settle, Odysseus glanced at Agamemnon one last time. "I will handle Achilles," he said. There was no need to argue over who would command the strongest warrior among them—Odysseus knew how to motivate Achilles in a way that even Agamemnon could not.