Constrained by its limited acreage yet serving as Carthage’s paramount stronghold in Sicily, Motya housed a dense population. To accommodate everyone, the residents were forced to build vertically, constructing towering dwellings that rose six or seven stories high, resembling a forest of spires.

When the Syracusan soldiers fought their way into the city, they were met with a shocking reality: the Motyans had no intention of surrendering. Instead, they defended every street and every building with ferocious tenacity. As the soldiers attempted to breach the barricades in the streets, the residents rained down heavy stones, javelins, and even scalding water and boiling oil from the upper stories of their towering homes, inflicting massive casualties on the Syracusan ranks.

Dionysius was forced to halt the offensive. He summoned countless engineers and spent days constructing siege towers that matched the height of the Motyan houses. These wooden behemoths stood six stories tall, mounted on massive wheels—titans of war designed to bridge the gap.

Once preparations were complete, the Syracusans launched their assault anew.

Driven by hordes of laborers, ten colossal siege towers rolled through the widened breaches in the city walls and down the main thoroughfares, approaching from the east, west, south, and north. As they closed in on the residential towers, bridges were lowered from their summits to the rooftops. Syracusan soldiers swarmed up the wooden ladders inside the towers, emerging onto the bridges to storm the houses. In response, the Motyans hurled burning logs and pitch at the siege engines, fighting desperately to block the invaders from crossing.

Thus, the most surreal spectacle of the Siege of Motya unfolded: combat suspended in mid-air.

Limbs and blood rained down ceaselessly from the sky. Soldiers and residents alike, engulfed in flames, plummeted from heights of over a dozen meters, their screams piercing the air before ending with the sickening thud of bodies hitting the pavement. Corpses littered the ground…

Due to the suicidal resistance of the Motyan residents, the Syracusan attack made little progress, and the battle ground to a bloody stalemate.

***

Meanwhile, the new King of Sparta, Agesilaus, and the Gerousia (Council of Elders) had no mind to focus on the war in Asia Minor, for a conspiracy threatening their very rule had been exposed.

Cinadon, a former Spartan citizen who had lost his privileges and been demoted to the rank of “Inferior” (Hypomeiones) due to his inability to pay his mess dues, was the mastermind. Initially driven by resentment and a desire for revenge against the Spartan aristocracy, his motivations deepened after long observation and contact with the other subjugated classes within Spartan territory. He realized the horror of the systemic slaughter and oppression inflicted upon the Helots, and the gross injustice suffered by the Perioikoi and Inferiors—people who contributed their sweat and blood to the city yet received nothing in return. He resolved to overthrow the rule of the Peers.

During this period, frequent wars demanded the constant conscription of Spartiates, Perioikoi, and even Helots. The land at home grew desolate from a lack of labor, yet the taxes imposed by the city-state only increased. Discontent across all social strata surged. Under Cinadon’s secret coordination and propaganda, a vast number of people within Spartan territory were galvanized by his ideals and joined his organization—even including disillusioned Spartan citizens.

As time passed, the ranks of this rebel organization swelled. Just as they were preparing to take action, a participant, overcome by fear, betrayed them to the Gerousia.

The Kings, Elders, and Ephors were terrified by the news. Given the urgency, they hastily convened an informal meeting and decided to dispatch Cinadon to lead a group of young men to a town in the outskirts to execute a “Cleansing Action.” This was the Spartan government’s officially sanctioned, periodic culling of the Helot population to prevent their numbers from threatening Spartan rule—a brutal tradition designed to instill terror in the Helots and cultivate a bloodlust in young citizens.

Receiving the order, Cinadon suspected nothing. Instead, he felt a surge of joy—not because he relished the right to kill Helots at will, but because the mission granted him the freedom to travel, offering a perfect opportunity to contact his organization and incite the uprising.

But he had underestimated the cunning of the Ephors and lacked vigilance. Shortly after leaving the city, he was secretly arrested by Spartan warriors lying in ambush and dragged back to the dungeons. The Spartans, seasoned by years of suppressing Helots, were experts in interrogation. Under severe torture, the broken Cinadon finally divulged the names of the organization’s key leaders.

While the Ephors launched a city-wide manhunt for the rebels, they paraded the battered and bloodied Cinadon around the city. They proclaimed to the watching populace: Cinadon is a despicable traitor! He sought to incite the Helots, start a riot, overthrow Spartan rule, plunder your wealth, and crown himself King!

Cinadon had no chance to defend himself. The moment he opened his mouth, Spartan warriors lashed his body with whips and smashed his jaw with spiked clubs. Bathed in blood and staggering under the angry, contemptuous gazes of the people, Cinadon collapsed, convulsed, and died before completing the circuit.

The Spartan government successfully destroyed Cinadon physically and assassinated his character, ensuring the uninformed populace hated the rebels. However, the conspiracy involved too many people to end there. The two Kings, the Elders, and the Ephors would spend the coming days frantically working to stabilize the domestic situation.

***

The Theonian Rugby Tournament continued for over ten days. The spectacular matches and fierce confrontations drove not only the Theonian citizens and allied VIPs into a frenzy but also captivated foreign merchants who had come to Thurii for trade. By the time the semi-finals arrived, the arena was packed to capacity, with countless people outside clamoring to get in.

Chief Administrator Kunogelata urgently increased the number of patrols to maintain order and prevent accidents.

The final match was once again a showdown between the two powerhouses: Thurii and Amendolara.

From the opening whistle to the end, the spectators remained on their feet, screaming support for their teams…

In the end, Amendolara achieved a narrow victory, avenging their loss from the previous year.

Just as the audience, feeling a mix of satisfaction and loss that it was over, prepared to leave, the tournament host announced loudly, “Next, a Football exhibition match will be held to thank the public for their full support!”

Football? As the name suggested, it was a ball kicked by the foot. But how could one play a game just by kicking? Many spectators who had never seen this sport sat back down, filled with doubt and curiosity.

Staff moved goals into the arena and re-marked the field with lime powder.

As the audience whispered with friends who were in the know, players from both sides took the field. The referee stood in the center, holding a perfectly round ball.

A whistle blew, and the game began.

The audience watched in amazement: this round ball could bounce on the ground, and the players used their feet and various parts of their bodies to touch it—but never their hands. It was the exact opposite of rugby.

When they saw players controlling the ball with their feet, performing dazzling maneuvers, and dribbling past snatching opponents like the wind to unleash powerful shots into the goal, the spectators’ eyes went wide. Cheers erupted spontaneously.

As the crowd truly immersed themselves in the match, observant men realized: Theonia had invented another ball game no less compelling than rugby. It was destined to sweep through the Theonian League and Magna Graecia!

At the end of the match, the host announced, “On the day of the city’s founding next year, a Football Tournament will be held in Theonia to celebrate!”

The audience left the arena, still savoring the experience. For some time afterward, their conversations would revolve around the rugby tournament and the upcoming football games. Merchants, pondering the business opportunities brought by such grand events, carried these novel topics to other ports and cities. The reputation of Theonia’s ball games was slowly expanding its influence across Magna Graecia…

Just as the rugby tournament concluded, the atmosphere inside the Senate Hall was grave. The Senators were originally debating whether to declare war on the Bruttii, but an envoy sent by Taranto had arrived unexpectedly…

***

Previously, Taranto had gathered heavy troops to capture Manduria, a stronghold town specifically built by the Messapians to attack Taranto. Following that, they spent months and paid a heavy price to capture the important Messapian port city of Brindisi (Brundisium), suddenly doubling Taranto’s territory.

Despite their joy, the Tarantines dared not be careless. Although the Messapians had suffered heavy losses, they would never let the matter rest. Centuries of conflict had given the Tarantines a deep understanding of their enemy’s tenacious nature. Thus, Taranto sent more soldiers to the newly occupied cities and intensified the repair of city defenses.

Months passed, and the Apulia region (the “heel” of Italy) remained peaceful.

Based on estimates of the Messapians’ current strength and the geographical importance of Brindisi versus Manduria, the Taranto Senate had made detailed calculations. They assigned the young commander Achilita to lead a larger force to guard Brindisi, which was further away and more critical. Meanwhile, Manduria, only 40 li (approx. 20km) from Taranto, was not deployed with too many hands, as troops from Taranto and Brindisi could reinforce it at any time. They reasoned the Messapians lacked the strength to attack both key towns simultaneously.

On the morning of the fifth day after the start of the Hades Festival, Achilita, who was inspecting construction progress at the port of Brindisi, received a messenger from the Taranto Senate.

“Manduria has been attacked by the Messapians?! How many men?!” Achilita was taken aback.

“According to the scouts, the enemy is numerous—no fewer than ten thousand! Their attack is incredibly fierce! The Senate has already dispatched two thousand men to Manduria, temporarily containing the enemy’s offensive there…”