Why is my anime art style so weird?

The spear tip pierced Menelaus's jaw from bottom to top, penetrating his skull and piercing through his bald head.

Time seemed to stand still on the battlefield. The Spartan warriors who were pounding their shields to cheer for their king all stopped, and astonished gazes were cast at the unremarkable figure in the center of the battlefield.

Hector casually pulled out his cross-shaped spear, and the body, now without support, collapsed to the ground with a thud. White brain matter mixed with blood gushed out, blooming like flowers on the corpse.

Hector flicked the blood off the tip of his spear and looked at Agamemnon not far away.

The death of his brother did not move the strategist in the slightest.

He silently instructed the soldiers to lift Menelaus's body onto the chariot, then flicked the reins and drove the chariot toward the allied camp.

Hector watched his retreating figure and sighed softly.

He thought that with his brother killed in front of him, Agamemnon would lose his mind and rush forward, giving him the opportunity to kill the Greek commander-in-chief and throw the Greek army into chaos.

Unexpectedly, Agamemnon was so patient.

As Hector watched Agamemnon's retreating figure, his expression gradually grew serious.

His blood relatives were killed before his eyes, yet he remained unmoved and showed no sign of impulsive revenge. This man's level of forbearance was beyond Hector's imagination, and he must be a great enemy of Troy.

The Allied forces suffered the loss of an important figure at the start of the battle, which greatly dampened their morale. Naturally, Agamemnon would not choose to launch an attack at this time.

Soon the allied forces retreated back to their seaside camp with Menelaus's body.

Perhaps due to their unfavorable start, the allied forces attempted to launch a siege in the following days, but were easily repelled by the Trojans' tight defenses.

The allied forces suffered heavy losses in the continuous siege battles, with casualties reaching as high as a thousand men per day, and three to four thousand men lost in just a few days.

In contrast, the Trojans, with their strong and tall city walls and ample defensive equipment, easily repelled the allied forces' attack, suffering minimal losses themselves.

Agamemnon had to temporarily halt this reckless siege tactic and planned to build siege equipment before launching an attack.

The continuous defeats filled the allied camp with a depressing atmosphere.

The cries of wounded soldiers echoed through the camp from time to time, creating a desolate atmosphere.

A handsome blond youth arrived at a corner of the camp with a worried look on his face. There, a lone tent sat, while the other tents were scattered about as if avoiding a plague, with the closest one at least ten meters away.

The blond youth was Patroclus, Achilles' close friend. Seeing this scene, his sorrow and depression deepened.

They shouldn't be living in such a deserted corner.

Unlike his boorish and hot-tempered brother, Agamemnon was adept at social interaction and knew how to conduct himself well. He prepared the best camp for the heroes, located in the center of the heavily guarded camp, right next to the lords' tents, with each tent even having its own servants.

However, after Achilles joined the allied forces, he adopted a passive attitude of slacking off and showed no intention of fighting alongside the army. He even deliberately chose a deserted corner to set up his camp, revealing an extremely unsociable demeanor.

Patroclus had intended to make a name for himself in this great battle and establish unparalleled merit and fame, but he never expected his friend to be so pessimistic.

The two joined the coalition together, and he felt embarrassed to leave his friend behind and go it alone.

This conflicting feeling greatly troubled Patroclus.

He came today to try again to persuade Achilles to join the war.

Chapter 755 Getting into Trouble

The allied forces have suffered a series of defeats, and this is the perfect opportunity. If they step onto the battlefield as saviors and lead the allied forces to victory, they will surely be able to establish unparalleled merit and glory.

This was extremely appealing to the unknown Patroclus.

So for the past few days he has been trying to persuade Achilles, but Achilles just won't agree.

Patroclus lifted the tent flap, and a strong smell of alcohol mixed with hormones hit him, making him frown.

The tent was filthy and cluttered, with empty wine jars and food scraps piled up inside, leaving barely any room to step.

Two pale bodies were lying on a pile of hay in the corner of the tent.

One of them was a petite girl with an iron ring around her neck, indicating her status as a female slave.

As for the other one, it was his friend Achilles.

The two were sleeping soundly in each other's arms, naked, and the tent was filled with the smell of a couple making love.

A strong flame suddenly rose in Patroclus's heart.

Achilles!

He whispered.

The sound immediately startled the two sleeping people, and the female slave instinctively picked up a blanket and held it in front of her.

Achilles, however, yawned nonchalantly, casually showing off his muscular physique, comparable to that of a fitness instructor.

"Honey, you can go out now."

He said to the female slave.

The female slave nodded obediently, wrapped the blanket around herself, bowed to Patroclus, and walked out of the tent.

Gazing at that graceful figure from behind, the flames in Patroclus's eyes seemed to burn even brighter.

He stared intently at Achilles.

"Achilles, did you come here just to drink and play with women?"

Achilles staggered to his feet, seemingly still under the influence of alcohol.

After a while, he slowly finished dressing and casually said:

“Patrocross, my good brother, I should tell you, this war is pointless, and I don’t want to be used as a pawn.”

"you……"

Just as Patroclus was about to say something, a shout suddenly came from outside the tent.

"Achilles! Let's go hunting!"

Several heroes who were familiar with him invited him.

Achilles' eyes lit up immediately.

As he quickly put on his gear, he shouted something outside.

"I'm coming right away!"

A moment later, Achilles, fully dressed, burst out of the tent, followed by Patroclus's utterly disappointed gaze...

A group of heroes rode their warhorses across the wilderness, with prey such as rabbits and deer scattering in all directions.

Swish!

Arrows were fired one after another, and prey were hit from time to time, falling to the ground with cries of pain.

Before they knew it, they had crossed the hills.

"Look what that is?!"

One of the heroes suddenly pointed ahead and shouted.

The heroes looked in the direction of the sound.

"It looks like a temple?"

One of the heroes said somewhat uncertainly.

"They are Trojans!"

Suddenly, a hero shouted.

"Go! Let's go and see!"

Someone made the suggestion, and all the heroes responded enthusiastically.

Achilles followed behind the group, his head still spinning, seemingly not yet free from the effects of his drunken stupor.

The warhorses galloped all the way and soon carried the heroes to the temple.

An elderly priest in a white robe stood shakily in front of the temple, while several young girls dressed in the same style hid behind stone pillars and gates, peering in their direction.

The old priest came forward to greet them.

"Warriors, this is Apo..."

Before he could finish speaking, a flash of cold light disappeared, and the white-haired head flew into the sky.

Meeting the astonished gazes of his companions, the hero wielding a scimitar suddenly unleashed a vicious grin.

"This is the temple of the Trojans!"

The defeats of the past few days had left the heroes feeling incredibly frustrated, and their hearts were already filled with rage towards the Trojans.

Incited by others, their anger was immediately ignited.

The heroes' eyes gleamed as they slowly drew their weapons from their waists.

"what!"

The girls in the temple screamed when they saw the old priest's miserable state.

Their screams were like a potent aphrodisiac, burning away the last shred of reason the heroes had left.

At this moment, all they could see were the beautiful girl before them and the glittering gold in the temple!

No one knows who started it, but the heroes' eyes turned red, and they pounced on the enemy like wild beasts.

For a moment, the sounds of men's laughter and girls' screams filled the air, mixed with the agonizing cries of male servants being brutally murdered.

While the heroes were busy seizing women and gold, Achilles felt somewhat bored and wandered aimlessly around the temple with his bronze sword in hand.

Heroes with ferocious, beast-like faces, and female priestesses fleeing in all directions.

Achilles felt out of place among them; he simply found them too noisy.

Adding to his irritability was the headache from being drunk all night.

Unbeknownst to him, he wandered into the temple's main hall, where a statue caught his attention.

It was a statue of a man drawing a bow and arrow. It looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I had seen it before.

This is normal; the images of the Greek and Trojan gods are slightly different.

At this point, some impatient heroes pounced on the girl and began to unleash their bestial instincts.

The surroundings became even noisier.

Achilles became even more agitated, and a sudden surge of inexplicable anger welled up within him.