In the Persian Market: The Roar of an Empire

Episode Eighteen: The Great King’s Decision, the All-Out War of Sand and Blood

1. The Lion’s Roar

“The encirclement is over. …Reduce that fortress to dust.”

With that single command, Alexander transformed tens of thousands of Macedonian soldiers into a colossal engine of destruction.

At dawn, the earth began to tremble with a deep, rhythmic heartbeat—the sound of an army advancing in perfect unison.

This was no skirmish. This was the true essence of an empire’s martial will, unleashed in full.

“They’re here, Cyrus,” Azad said with a crooked grin, strapping his shield to his arm.

“Looks like you finally landed the biggest deal of your life.”

Before them, a silver tide of armor stretched across the horizon, sunlight flashing like blades as it surged forward.

2. Cyrus’s “Desert Mandala”

“Danesh, is the mechanism ready? Shahab, are you in position?”

Cyrus’s voice held no trace of panic. If anything, he seemed to savor the extremity of the moment as he directed the battlefield like a merchant calling bids.

What he had prepared was not a head-on collision, but a multi-layered labyrinth of traps, anchored around the fortress.

Beneath the desert sand lay enormous carpets, smuggled out from the market. Over them, Inaz had scattered an ultra-fine powder that robbed friction itself.

“Great King,” Cyrus muttered,

“I’ll teach your proud infantry how to dance on desert sand.”

3. The Opening of Total War

The Macedonian heavy infantry—the Pezhetairoi—lowered their sarissas and charged in an iron formation.

The moment they reached the fortress perimeter, the “market’s devices” were triggered.

“Pull!!”

At Cyrus’s signal, ropes hidden beneath the sand were yanked tight. The massive carpets burst upward, surfacing all at once.

Coated in the friction-killing powder, the ground betrayed the Macedonians—feet slipped, formations collapsed, and the sheer weight of their armor sent soldiers crashing down one after another.

“Now! Become the wind of Bahar!!”

From the flank, Ghassan’s cavalry slammed into the exposed side of the fallen formation.

It was the instant where brute force was torn apart by the irrational cunning of the market.

4. Nirfar at the Front of the Bloodbath

At the chaotic front line, as reserves thinned and the market battalion began to buckle, a white horse leapt forward.

Nirfar, holding a blue banner high, charged into the fray.

“Do not fall back! This is the final gate of our market!”

Her blade cut down advancing Macedonian officers.

There was no trace left of the princess who once needed protection.

Even Alexander’s elite faltered for a heartbeat under her ferocity.

Behind her, it seemed as though the spirits of those who had died in the market—and Hossein’s soul among them—rose like a wall of flame.

5. The Great King Enters the Field

When the battlefield dissolved into a mire of brutal close combat, he finally moved.

Alexander spurred his black stallion Bucephalus forward, charging at the head of the Companion Cavalry.

“…Magnificent, merchant Cyrus. But wit alone cannot change history!”

The pressure of the Great King’s presence froze the air itself.

Where he passed, bodies piled high. Even Bahar’s famed cavalry scattered before his overwhelming martial might.

“Cyrus! The King himself is coming!” Shahab shouted.

“He’s after your head!”

Cyrus tightened his grip on Hossein’s short blade.

“…Yeah. I know.”

A thin smile crossed his lips.

“I can’t very well let my finest customer leave empty-handed.”

The greatest battle yet surged toward its peak,

the desert holding its breath as destiny narrowed toward the promise of a duel.