Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

Chapter 47 This is Sparta! (Fifth update, please vote!)

At dawn, just as the sky was beginning to lighten, the orderly marching, the resounding slogans, the noise of wall-building training, and the explosions of swords clashing shattered the dreams of most of the people of Uruk.

Residents in the affected central and southern regions, as usual, pulled their blankets over their heads and continued to sleep.

The Uruk people, who were closer to the northern wall defense line, were in a worse situation, each sporting dark circles under their eyes from lack of sleep.

A small number of residents covered their ears, cursing and swearing, and crawled into their blankets to continue their stubborn resistance, determined to carry on their dream to the end.

More often than not, people mechanically get out of bed with lifeless eyes, forced to open the window and greet the sunrise of a new day.

Immediately afterwards, a thunderous shout, almost squeezing out all the air from his lungs, echoed and spread across the north wall, causing dust to fall from the window frames of nearby houses.

"Sparta!"

"Sparta!"

It's like this every day! Those damn Spartan barbarians, when will this ever end!

The Uruk man, who still wanted to stay in bed, had a ringing in his ears and was on the verge of tears. Unable to continue, he had no choice but to groggily climb out of bed.

After a busy half hour, the night faded away, and many shops and stalls opened for business, with the smoke from cooking fires and the aroma of food spreading everywhere.

Meanwhile, in the camp next to the north wall, a group of shirtless, muscular men, clad in light armor and wielding round shields, short swords, and spears, were gathered together.

Under the command of the red-haired gatekeeper, the well-trained Uruk soldiers flexibly changed the formation of the Spartan phalanx, assembling and dispersing swiftly.

Straighten backs, stride forward, raise shields, throw spears, and wield swords—hundreds and hundreds of people act as one.

Even from a distance of a hundred meters, the overwhelming fighting spirit was so palpable that it was almost suffocating and terrifying.

Even though such disruptive behavior has caused some criticism among the affected Uruk residents behind their backs.

On the surface, however, they showed absolute respect for the Flame Gate Guardian who had single-handedly trained a powerful army, resisted numerous monster tides, and held the Babylonian defense line during crises.

Without this outsider, countless young and strong men in Uruk would have been killed or injured.

Rather than sleeping forever on this land, they would rather be awakened by shouts full of life and vitality.

After several rounds of routine training, the Uruk warriors, who were only slightly more breathless, became accustomed to spreading out their formation.

They picked up wooden sticks with one side wrapped in cloth from the shelf, raised their shields, and launched an even more brutal confrontation.

The booming sound of the round shields clashing with the wooden sticks, and the muffled thuds of the sharp points piercing human bodies, were incessant.

Even with bruises all over their bodies and broken bones, the Uruk warriors, who were fighting each other, showed no signs of falling down or leaving the scene.

Only when someone completely collapses and faints, the priests and priestesses who have been waiting on both sides, as well as the magicians summoned by the astrological observatory, dare to risk being trampled to death and, with pale faces, drag the unconscious person out for treatment.

In an instant, all sorts of magical arts, spells, and colorful herbal soups were thrown at the wounded.

The patient, who was just half-dead a moment ago, recovered almost completely in the blink of an eye, with bone fractures healing, fascia remodeling, and bruising fading.

Even before they had a full hour to recover, the wounded had to make room for the next group of more seriously injured colleagues.

They themselves limped to their feet and continued to the camp to undergo hellish training.

"Beasts! Livestock!"

"Madman! Sadist!"

The spellcasters watching from the sidelines, their hearts pounding with fear, couldn't bear to look away and cursed the culprit in their hearts.

The Yanmen garrison commander, who was in full charge of training the troops, gave only one response from beginning to end.

"This is Sparta!"

The brutal confrontation finally subsided after two hours.

Next, these Uruk soldiers, exhausted from the ordeal, had to drag their weary bodies through the muscle training method invented by the "Spartan".

Commonly known as "bricklaying".

"On the battlefield, only your own muscles and your comrades are worthy of your trust!"

Leonidas, a stranger known as the "Guardian of the Flame Gate," paced back and forth in the camp, constantly instilling extremely Spartan ideals into the soldiers.

The Uruk soldiers, already tortured to the point of forgetting how to resist and completely Spartanized, sweated profusely on the construction site while shouting hoarse slogans through broken voices.

As noon approached, the supply trucks drove into the camp, and the soldiers, who had been suffering under Spartan oppression, finally saw a glimmer of hope and couldn't help but shed tears.

The soldiers, whose potential had been squeezed to the limit, squatted on the ground and, with trembling hands, accepted the food delivered from the sacrificial site, wolfing it down and stuffing it into their stomachs.

The strong herbal aroma and the chewy monster meat brought a strong feeling of fullness, as well as a tingling, itchy sensation from the healing of wounds and the absorption of magic power.

The soldiers, grimacing and gasping for breath, continued to eat and drink voraciously, like a pack of hungry wolves devouring their prey.

After a short lunch break, the worn-out weapons were replaced, and the new half-body armor was tested.

This was a rare moment of leisure for the Uruk soldiers to digest their food. A group of muscular men, their bodies bulging with oil, each pulled out javelins, short swords, round shields, and arrows from their carriages.

Some experienced veterans practiced their techniques, each trying to find the right balance and feel, to avoid making a huge mistake on the battlefield.

Leonidas, equally eager to hunt, stepped forward, drew a javelin, took a running start, and leaned back, his muscles and bones stretching into an exaggerated arc like a giant bow.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The javelin, shimmering with golden ripples and accompanied by a sharp, explosive sound, pierced through four solid wooden targets before finally embedding nearly half of itself in the wall that a soldier had built during training. The butt of the javelin was still humming and vibrating.

"Sparta!"

"Sparta!"

Once again, the Uruk soldiers, awed by the general's violent aesthetics, were filled with fervor and cheered.

Leonidas, satisfied with his display of skill, turned his gaze to the handsome black-haired man in charge of escorting the weapons.

"Hey Samael, the goods that came today, the craftsmanship has improved! Did you make them yourself?"

"If you like it, that's fine. I'm better at forging weapons like spears and guns, it's just something I do by chance."

As the ancient serpent recalled its experience of being forced to work in the underworld, a faint smile unconsciously appeared on its lips.

"Of course it's handy, it's very comfortable to use! Otherwise, I'd really be letting this batch of goods down if I didn't take down a few more monsters!"

Leonidas patted Samael on the shoulder with great gusto, and amidst the series of thunderous impacts, the ancient serpent remained completely still.

The Yanmen Guardian was not surprised by this. Instead, he removed his helmet and took off his half-body armor, his eyes flashing with a fierce fighting spirit as he looked at Samael.

"It's been a long time, how about... we practice?"

Chapter 48 Experience the Pampering of Sparta (First Update)

"No, I don't think so. After unloading this shipment, I still need to collect the javelins and arrows outside..."

Samael glanced at the battlefield outside the north wall, which was covered with dried, purplish-black bloodstains, and his expression was slightly hesitant.

Most of the creatures in Warcraft are nocturnal, and night raids are often a common tactic for attacking.

However, Leonidas, the commander of Yanmen, was an outstanding general and naturally had made preparations.

Therefore, every morning one can see the monstrous corpses strung together like hedgehogs and nailed to the ground.

Because wetland monsters such as Muxiuhuxiu have built nests and bred along the line from Reed Plains to Mount Aibifu, mineral transportation has been hindered.

To sustain the war effort, one of the tasks the Firelink Shrine's logistics department had to perform was to collect javelins and arrows daily and recycle the damaged ones.

"No problem at all. I, old Tabad, just happened to be taking these little Uruk brats out on patrol!"

An elderly man with a burly build and a tangled gray beard patted his pectoral muscles, which bore several claw marks from monsters.

"I'm also responsible for loading the corpses of those monsters outside onto the truck..."

"Over there, the scholars and magicians at the astrologer's office..."

Samael shrugged, somewhat helplessly.

"Tim! You're in charge of loading the monster corpses onto the truck, and you and your men are responsible for that!"

Leonidas immediately blocked someone's excuse, and under the command of the Yanmen garrison commander, a burly man in light armor, gleefully led more than twenty people to take control of the transport vehicle.

Compared to the inhuman training in the camp, transporting monster corpses outside was as easy as a picnic, a job that others could only envy.

"besides…"

Samael raised his fingertips, rubbed his chin, and looked troubled.

"What else do you want? Just say it! There are plenty of eager little rascals here who have the energy to help you with the work!"

Leonidas, having noticed something amiss, couldn't help but laugh and curse.

This war hero from the ruins of Babylon had been in Uruk for over a month and usually didn't seem particularly remarkable.

But everyone witnessed him several times how he easily tossed monsters weighing hundreds to thousands of pounds onto the car.

Even when doing extremely physically demanding tasks like grain transport, metal forging, and dismantling corpses, he rarely seemed to be out of breath, even after a long day of hard work.

Without a doubt, this kid must have some tricks up his sleeve to escape from that monster-infested place in the north, and his muscles must have been thoroughly trained.

"So... what should we play?"

Samael slightly expanded his chest and flexed his wrists, asking with a light laugh.

"Old rules!"

Leonidas assumed a stance, squatting in front of a wall of clay, his fingers, which looked like they were cast in bronze, slightly bent forward, the bulging muscles gleaming with a metallic sheen.

"Arm wrestling? How's the score this time?"

The ancient snake took the tree stump from a soldier and showed off its unbelievably white arms.

"If you can last half an hour, you win!"

Leonidas was very casual, with a confident expression.

This wasn't the first time the two had dealt with each other, and they had developed some understanding of each other.

Don't let his delicate and frail appearance fool you; he's incredibly deceptive. The streamlined muscles beneath his clothes conceal explosive power.

Furthermore, the arduous work he did every day seemed to have given him a thorough workout, resulting in a rapid improvement in his strength, making him much stronger than most Uruk veterans.

In addition, Samael was quick-witted and learned everything fast; he was a natural-born warrior, which Leonidas greatly appreciated.

However, the only thing that didn't quite satisfy the Yanmen guard was that the kid was very cunning. After being beaten up by him a few times, he usually avoided coming this way to avoid being caught.

Now that we've finally caught this slippery eel, we're determined to teach him a lesson and make him realize that Sparta and the front lines are the better options for him.

Only the women at the sacrificial site focused on logistics.

A real man is a warrior! He builds the most perfect muscles! He takes on the fiercest monsters!

Is there a prize?

Samael narrowed his eyes slightly and asked casually.

"Kid, you tricked me before, so I taught you shield bash. If we win this time, how about I pass on my signature javelin throw to you?"

Leonidas skillfully threw out the bait, slightly annoyed by his previous experience.

Even with multiple restrictions, he still wins more often than he loses, but when facing such a rapidly developing young man, he is not immune to setbacks.

"Alright! But we need to agree on this first: it's just a contest of strength, no divine power allowed!"

“I don’t want to end up like last time, with you breaking my hand bones and me lying on the astrological table for half a day.”

Samael nodded slightly, and as he flexed his wrists, he couldn't help but recall his previous painful experience. He then opened his mouth and made a request to Leonidas.

So-called divine power is an automatically activated talent of those who inherit the bloodline of gods. Once used, it will cause a terrifying increase in all the body's stats.

This "outsider" named Leonidas I is the king of the Greek city-state of Sparta in a future timeline.

Historically, Sparta, a land known for its warriors, had its first "city builders" who were two direct descendants of the great hero Hercules.

This led to the formation of the two great families of divine blood who later ruled Sparta: the Argyz family and the Elypin family, who ruled as kings.

Leonidas came from the Argyris family, so he had the pure blood of the ancient Greek hero in his veins.

Therefore, even without activating the divine power in his bloodline and receiving the blessings of his ancestors, his natural talent for muscle strength is still terrifying.

"No problem! Even with just muscles, I can still beat you!"

"Wake up, kid! Feel the love from Sparta!"

Leonidas grinned, revealing his gleaming white teeth; his smile carried a menacing and oppressive quality.

"start!"