A Warrior’s Escape

The palace halls echoed with the sound of battle.

Pyrrhus spun, his blade flashing, cutting down a Macedonian who lunged for him.

Blood spattered the stone floor.

Echecrates and a handful of Pyrrhus's men fought beside him, but they were surrounded.

Cassander stood atop the palace stairs, smirking.

"You are bold," he said. "But boldness does not make you invincible."

Pyrrhus wiped blood from his cheek. "We shall see."

Cassander signaled his men. "Kill him."

The Macedonians surged forward.

Pyrrhus moved like a tempest, dodging, slashing, twisting through the chaos.

But even he could not fight forever.

Echecrates grabbed his arm. "We need to go—now!"

Pyrrhus growled in frustration, but he knew his general was right.

They fought their way to the outer corridors, cutting down any soldier who dared to stand in their path.

As they reached the city walls, Pyrrhus spotted a narrow aqueduct leading out of Pella.

"Through there!" he ordered.

One by one, his men slipped into the tunnel, the sounds of pursuit echoing behind them.

At the last moment, Pyrrhus turned back toward the city, his breath ragged.

He had come so close.

But Cassander had escaped again.

This war was far from over.