Meanwhile, in Athens.
The Spartan Warriors were madly slaughtering the Helots they had brought with them.
As Sparta's officially sanctioned slaves, the Helots had always been nothing more than tools in the Spartans' eyes.
But as one living soul after another, who would want to remain a slave for life?
After Ares passed through and caused enough chaos, the small group of Helots who yearned for freedom immediately gathered together and began their escape.
Their flight also stirred up an uproar among the Helots as a whole.
And it was precisely that escape and uproar that drew the Spartan Warriors' slaughter upon them.
Some things could never be properly explained, nor could anyone clearly say what was right or wrong.
Look...
The fleeing Helots were pitiful people. From birth, they had been branded as slaves, made into beings others could bully and use as they pleased.
Those with poor figures had it better; they only needed to bear the daytime work.
But the well-built Helots, those pitiful people not only had to take on all the work during the day, they even had to labor through the night for the mistresses whose husbands had gone off to war, leaving their hearts and bodies empty!
This... how cruel life was to them, how cruel!!!
So, they wanted to run. They wanted to change their fates. They wanted to pursue that tiny bit of freedom and justice that might exist—or might only ever exist in their ideals.
Was that wrong?
But their escape drew the attention and fury of the Spartan Warriors.
Only a few of them, a few dozen at most, perhaps no more than a hundred, had fled.
Yet it caused all two thousand Helots, including themselves, to die at the hands of the Spartan Warriors.
Were those who