AndyB_writes

Born in exile, Pyrrhus of Epirus rises to reclaim his lost kingdom, proving himself a warrior as fierce as his ancestor, Achilles. From the battlefields of Greece to the war-torn lands of Italy, he wages war against powerful enemies, including Macedon, Rome, and shifting allies who betray him at every turn. As he builds an empire through blood and conquest, Pyrrhus seeks not just victory, but immortality—a place among the greatest legends of history.

But war demands sacrifice. And the price of ambition is steep.


Years after his father’s fall, Alexander II of Epirus is forced into exile, raised in a land of warriors. As a young king, he reclaims his throne and seeks to restore his father’s legacy. But he soon faces an even greater threat—Rome, an empire that will not bow to kings or gods.

Outnumbered and surrounded by betrayal, Alexander must decide what kind of ruler he will be—one who fights for his people, or one who fights for history. As war consumes the land, his destiny unfolds in a battle that will determine not only his fate, but the fate of all who defy the rise of an empire.

Crown and Blood

The air was thick with the scent of iron and fire as Alexander II rode at the head of his Illyrian warriors.

For years, he had trained in the rugged lands of Illyria. He had learned their ways, their brutal combat, their relentless spirit.

But his heart had never left Epirus.

The journey through the mountains was slow, but the warriors moved with purpose.

Alexander knew that Epirus had changed.

The people had grown weary under Macedonian rule. Antigonus II Gonatas sat on the throne like a vulture, ruling Epirus not as a king, but as a conqueror.

Epirote nobles had submitted to Macedon, believing resistance to be futile.

But Alexander would show them: his father's blood still burned in his veins.

As they descended into Epirote lands, scouts returned with news.

Antigonus had learned of his march.

The Macedonian army was waiting for him.

Not all of Epirus welcomed his return.

One evening, as they set up camp near the border, a group of Epirote noblemen approached Alexander's tent.

Their leader, Lysandros of Ambracia, stepped forward. He was a man with graying hair and sharp eyes, once loyal to Pyrrhus, but now a man who had bent the knee to Macedon.

"You should turn back," Lysandros said.

Alexander crossed his arms. "You would have me abandon my homeland?"

Lysandros sighed, looking at the Illyrian warriors surrounding the camp. "You return with foreigners, expecting Epirus to rally behind you? The people will not follow an invader."

Drakon, standing beside Alexander, growled. "Your people let Macedon rule over them like cattle."

Lysandros's jaw tightened. "We kept our kingdom from being burned to the ground."

Alexander stepped forward, his golden eyes burning. "You call this a kingdom? Epirus is a puppet. And you—" his voice hardened— "you are nothing but cowards."

Lysandros exhaled, his face unreadable.

"You speak like your father," he murmured. "Perhaps that is why I pity you."

Drakon spat on the ground. "We should kill them now. They will betray us."

Alexander watched them disappear into the night, his expression unreadable.

"No," he said finally. "Let them go. Their time will come."

As the moon rose, the Illyrian warlords and Epirote commanders gathered in Alexander's tent.

Drakon spread a map of Epirus before them, pointing at the valley near the city of Dodona.

"Antigonus is waiting for us here," he said. "If we march straight for Ambracia, we will be crushed between his forces and his allies in Macedon."

Alexander traced the map with his fingers, his mind racing.

"We will not march directly to Ambracia," he said. "We will force Antigonus to come to us."

Drakon raised an eyebrow. "And how do we do that?"

Alexander's lips curled into a smirk.

Then, one of the Illyrian captains laughed. "The boy has teeth."

Alexander turned to Drakon. "Spread the word. We move at dawn."

Tomorrow, the war for Epirus would begin.

The Road to War