Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

The ancient serpent's eerie gaze swept over a certain proud cleavage before landing on Hippolyta's hesitant face. It put down its reading material, drew several runes on the table with its fingers to create a barrier, and then turned to ask.

"What, is something wrong?"

“I would like to say that, given your current condition, entering enemy territory rashly would likely be extremely dangerous. Why don’t you consider returning to the City of Seven Hills with me to recuperate, or simply stay on the southeastern front and make further plans after you have recovered?”

Hippolyta hesitated for a moment, glanced at Samael's chest, and couldn't help but ask, her words filled with concern.

"Rome's predicament has been temporarily resolved, but it cannot fundamentally solve the problem. If we do not take action as soon as possible during this perfect window of opportunity, the chance will be gone in an instant!"

Samael pulled out a chair, gesturing for the Amazonian queen to sit down, and then habitually tapped his fingers on the table in a deep voice in response.

"Moreover, this is a curse used by Angolan Mainyu to kill gods, so simply resting will probably not be effective."

On the Roman chessboard, I've done all I can. Even if I return to the Seven Hills or the southeastern front, the effect I can have is extremely limited. It's better to take the initiative.

Hippolyta pondered for a moment, then frowned and offered her opinion.

"Then why not consider returning to Athens? With your abilities, you are more than capable of uniting the Greek city-states and facing the Persian army."

Samael spread out the map and, drawing on his experience and insights, began to speak eloquently.

"The most valuable quality in a person is self-awareness. I am skilled in overall planning, not in battle formations against the enemy."

Moreover, Greece has no shortage of divine heroes; its fatal weaknesses are its sparse population, barren land, and inability to wage a prolonged war!

All of these require the Roman Empire's war potential as a complement.

Cyrus understood this perfectly, which is why, before launching the Third Greco-Persian War, he allied with Ramses II and Attila to assassinate Romulus, intending to first destroy Rome and then conquer Greece!

As the ancient serpent reviewed the dramatic changes in the city of seven hills, a frown appeared between his brows. He couldn't help but marvel at Cyrus's cunning move of cutting off the enemy's supply lines.

“You see, once Rome falls first, Greece loses its room to maneuver. Combined with the weaknesses of its fragmented terrain and scattered city-states, as long as Persia is patient and works together with Carthage, Egypt, and the Huns to steadily and cautiously advance, taking a long-range approach to gradually erode the Greek city-states, conquering them one by one, the outcome of this war is already predetermined.”

Even if Greece manages to win a few minor local victories, it will be difficult to fundamentally change the overall course of the war.

This is what is known as a tactical victory and a strategic defeat.

Therefore, I devoted myself to preserving Rome, blocking the Hunnic Empire's southward advance, tying down the Persians' eastern front, and having Octavian and his forces sow discord between Carthage and Egypt, thus breaking the three-way encirclement!

After a meticulous analysis, Hippolyta was able to see the whole picture of the game between the parties, and her eyes lit up with admiration. She was even more impressed by the chess player who had a comprehensive view of the game.

Samael was a competent chess player. From the moment of the upheaval in the city of seven hills and the fall of Romulus the patriarch of the gods, he knew that the crisis in Greece had begun.

To break free from the siege of the central point on the chessboard, one must first contend for the gold and silver corners, and then gradually place pieces to capture the dragon.

"To be honest, I wonder how they are doing now. I'm starting to miss home..."

Seeing his old Greek acquaintances under the lamplight made Samael's gaze wander, a touch of melancholy appearing on his face as he murmured to himself.

Rome was not his home; the place where his family and friends gathered was.

He longed to return to Greece as soon as possible, to confide in his female companions, and live a carefree life.

Unfortunately, things in life rarely go as planned...

The flickering lights repeatedly elongated and shortened the man's figure. Sitting in a daze at the night sky, half of his face was exposed to the light, while the other half was shrouded in darkness. The softness that was inadvertently revealed in his heart, as well as the gloom and loneliness cut by the light and shadow, mixed with the cool moonlight falling on his shoulders, exuded a unique charm.

Hippolyta's heartstrings trembled, and an inexplicable pity welled up within her. An impulse surged in her mind, eventually turning into a plea that she blurted out.

“Why don’t I take over this mission from Persia? I can have Pentessilia and a few of her sisters escort you back to Greece first.”

Samael was slightly taken aback upon hearing this, and turned his head to look at Hippolyta beside him, his gaze becoming increasingly gentle and playful.

“Old friend, I appreciate your kindness, but this second step can only be taken by me…”

As a blush of embarrassment and awkwardness gradually spread across the other woman's face, the ancient serpent raised his hand and placed it on the Amazon Queen's shoulder, his gaze deep and distant, and he smiled nonchalantly.

"Besides, once we resolve this crisis, we'll have plenty of time to spend together in the long years to come! I've waited for thousands of years, what's a few more days compared to that!"

Hippolyta was momentarily dazed by Samael's clear-headedness and wisdom, and didn't even notice that Samael's way of addressing her had changed further.

It wasn't until the ancient serpent stroked its chin, its mocking gaze lingering on her face for a long time, that the Amazon queen finally came to her senses, coughing dryly to change the subject and try to ease her embarrassment.

"Um, what's our next destination?"

Samael's gaze fell on the several sheepskin maps he had bought in Persia. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he spoke slowly and meaningfully.

"Eagle Nest...Evening Bell Temple!"

Chapter 77 Bonus Chapter! An extra chapter is a must tonight!

In the empty palace courtyard, golden sunlight filtered through the shadows of the branches and leaves, casting dappled patterns of light and bringing a warm feeling. The great hero Arash stretched his arm, which had been reattached by divine magic, leaned over the stone table, picked up a wine jar, and listlessly drank by himself.

Just as Arash was getting a little tipsy, the sound of light footsteps nearby made him turn his head to look at the corner of the corridor under the shade of the trees opposite, and subconsciously greet the approaching figure.

"Good afternoon..."

hum!

At the same time, before the great hero could finish speaking, the figure opposite her shuddered, and the ether in the air rapidly condensed, with seventeen or eighteen magical halos buzzing and lighting up, instantly enveloping her completely.

“It’s me, Arash Kamango…”

"Uh, it's a conditioned reflex, a conditioned reflex. I'm sorry, Lord Arash..."

Scheherazade awkwardly dispelled the defensive magic around him. After hesitating for a long time, he cautiously took a step along the corner of the wall, his hands tightly gripping the scrolls. With each step, he looked around like a thief, as if he were on guard against a thousand troops that might suddenly appear from any corner.

Arash was speechless at his colleague's neurotic crisis management, so he changed the subject, pointing to her black smock and casually asking her about it.

"Did you change your robes?"

"Yes, it's made of spider silk. It protects against cuts and scratches, resists water and poison, and has three more blessings and two more defensive spells than before, making it much safer!"

Why is there a metallic sheen under the blouse?

"I've put on an inner armor underneath, which can protect against blunt force injuries!"

"Your shoes..."

"Increased speed, brief airtime, and adaptability to terrain!"

"...Don't worry, this is the royal palace, the Romans can't break in."

Arash rolled his eyes as he watched the arcane mage proudly introducing his full set of defensive gear with a solemn expression, and couldn't help but offer a reminder.

"That's not necessarily true. The Great Khan is seriously injured and hasn't come out of the Sacred Pool yet. What if someone tries to assassinate him?"

However, Scheherazade gripped the scroll tightly in his hand and answered seriously.

Arash was about to say something like "impossible" to comfort him, but then he suddenly remembered the monster who had impaled the Great Lord on the rock wall with a single spear, and he was speechless. His newly grown right arm was throbbing with pain.

Alas, the war with Rome has collapsed, the empire has suffered heavy losses, and with him in this state, it is uncertain whether the Great Khan's next plan in Greece can proceed smoothly.

"Ahei! Ahei! Ahei!"

After exchanging a few words, Scheherazade sneezed three times in a row before finally stopping the sudden chill that had gripped him.

Lately, for some reason, she always felt that there was a pair of eyes staring at her menacingly in the dark, making her feel a chill down her spine. She couldn't sleep or eat well, and even after upgrading her equipment, she still didn't feel very safe.

Only when the night is deep and quiet, and I am hunched over my desk, writing the manuscript of "One Thousand and One Nights" as usual, can I slightly relieve the pressure while immersing myself in it.

Extra chapter! I'm definitely going to add an extra chapter tonight!

Like a frightened bird recounting a nighttime conversation, the narrator's expression hardened, and he made a decision in secret.

Meanwhile, the Alebuz Mountains and hilly areas.

Amidst the desolate, earthy yellow hues, two figures walked silently along the rugged mountain path, heading towards the Alamut Mountains, a spur of the mountain range.

As they ventured deeper into the wilderness, the scenery on both sides became increasingly desolate. Along the way, they even saw numerous skeletons, their flesh and internal organs stripped bare, lying dead in the desolate ravines.

Among them are animals and humans.

Samael paused, bent down and pulled out an eagle feather stuck in the skull of the corpse. He examined it carefully. The black, shiny material, harder than steel, looked quite familiar to him.

It looked familiar, but he didn't like it, whether it was raw or cooked.

A sense of being watched from the shadows surged through his mind. The ancient serpent glanced at the few black dots circling in the sky, casually tossed down an eagle feather, pursed his lips, and shook his head slightly.

Nearby, several vultures flew out from the high caves, folded their wings, and landed on the branches of a withered tree. Their rolling eyes scrutinized the two figures on the mountain path as if they were looking at two slowly decaying corpses.

There are so many hairy animals here, no wonder it's called "Eagle's Nest".

Samael frowned slightly, inwardly complaining. His serpentine instincts made him feel a slight aversion to this place.

However, Alamut, in Persian, means "the nest of eagles".

They look like they're almost there.

Even with these thoughts in mind, the ancient serpent still showed no intention of moving.

laugh!

when!

In an instant, the sharp sound of something cutting through the air from the side, along with the buzzing of tail feathers, made Samael glance at the arrows embedded in front of him, and then look up at the heads popping out from the top of the rock walls on both sides.

“Outsiders, this is not a place for you. Whether you intend to or not, if you cannot prove your identity, then I’m sorry, you will become food for wild beasts.”

On the cliff, a man in black robes with a white bone mask covering his face uttered a deep, menacing sigh. With a raised, thick right arm, he gave the order, and arrows gleaming with cold light were aimed at the two people on the mountain path.

Looks like we've found the right place.

Samael remained calm and composed. He walked past Hassan, the man codenamed "Cursed Arm," looked around the crowd, and finally his gaze landed on the petite, purple-haired figure who was still surrounded by a vacuum. He then waved his hand skillfully, took off his hood, revealing a face with a West Asian style, and smiled broadly.

"Oh, it's been a long time, Miss Jingmi, I've come to keep my appointment."

Those familiar cross-shaped eyes and the voice etched into her mind startled the newly appointed Silent Hassan. When she saw the arrows still aimed at someone all around her, she felt a chill run down her spine.

Quietly leaping off the cliff, she rushed to Samael, her throat dry and parched. Just as she was about to speak, the ancient serpent pulled her into its embrace, cutting off her words.

Keep the appointment? Aren't you afraid of this lord's poison?

The group of Assassins who unearthed the key points from the words, and the quiet Hassan lying in the arms of the newcomer, his posture both reluctant and welcoming, suddenly drew the attention of those around them to the two parties involved, gradually revealing an ambiguous meaning.

“Silence, let your friend leave. Outsiders are not allowed to approach the nest, not even if you are Hassan.”

A mixed voice, like that of an old man, an infant, a youth, and a young girl, came from beneath the bone mask. Hassan Baimao, a tall woman with long purple hair draped in a single ponytail, leaned against a withered tree on the edge of the cliff with her arms crossed, and spoke softly.

"Letting outsiders who approach the eagle's nest go is against the rules..."

The spellcaster beside him had a slight glint in his eyes and spoke in a low voice.

Hassan, the drunkard opposite, nodded in agreement, raised his hand to toss his wine-red hair, glanced at the uninvited guest on the mountain road with his amber eyes, leisurely took a puff of his pipe, exhaled a ring of white smoke, and murmured in a hoarse and magnetic voice.

“That’s right. Since you’re the one who caused this, Jingmi, you’re in charge of interrogating this kid. After you’re done, send him far away on your way back, understand?”

Upon hearing this, Hassan of Cursed Wrist stiffened, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Do you dare to be any more blatant in covering it up?

Tsk, woman...

Just as the male Hassans, including Cursed Wrist, Vibrating Tube, and Shadow Peel, noticed the underhanded dealings of their female colleagues and exchanged glances inwardly, a bewildered response came from the mountain path.

“But Weng already knows about what happened between us and is waiting at the Evening Bell Temple.”

The quiet answer left the Hassans dumbfounded, and they looked at the two parties involved with strange expressions.

Chapter 78 The Legendary Mutual Flattery in Business (1/3)

Buzz---Buzz----

As dusk fell and the sky turned a blood-red hue, the solemn and melodious sound of evening bells emanated from the temple, echoing through the Alamut Mountains. Startled eagles hastily folded their wings and obediently nestled in their nests.

The evening bells haven't rung for a long time...

Pairs of eyes, young, frail, or old, gazed reverently at the shadows deep in the mountains, their minds filled with diverse thoughts.

As wisps of smoke rise from the chimneys, the Arab villages scattered throughout the Al-Buz Mountains fall silent in the deepening twilight under the setting sun, a scene of tranquility.

In the village of the East, a group of Hassans sat around a campfire, staring at each other in an eerie silence. Their eyes were fixed on the evening bell temple built on the main peak of Alamt, their gazes meeting at the tightly closed cave doors, as if they were waiting for something.

Beep...

It wasn't until the firewood crackled and burned, and the bread on the fire smelled burnt, that they snapped out of their daze and quickly turned their attention to their dinner, which was about to be ruined.

Jingmi and that kid have been inside for two hours, haven't they?

The broth simmering in the pot was bubbling away. The Hassans present were only focused on eating their flatbreads, but they still kept most of their attention on the majestic evening bell temple. Their thoughts were in turmoil, and all sorts of imagined scenes came to mind, which made them look strange.

What exactly was Weng talking about with them? Was it really about marriage customs and procedures?

Meanwhile, deep within the Evening Bell Temple, in a quiet corner, Hassan knelt beside a fire, cooking porridge and drinks, carefully attending to his needs. However, due to his nervousness, he made several clattering noises from the bowls and plates, and his expression grew increasingly embarrassed.