Before the dust from the hooves of the united army's horses could reach the first major city of Media, the echo of Kourosh's victory had spread faster than the wind.
This echo was not just the story of a military victory.
It was the narrative of a new and unprecedented character.
The messengers of Fariborz's network, who were now the heralds of a new era, had spread the story of Kourosh's chivalrous conduct in every street and alley.
The story of the fair distribution of the spoils.
And most importantly, his unparalleled respect for the defeated king.
In the caravanserais, merchants recounted to each other with eyes wide with astonishment.
How this young conqueror, instead of plundering the treasury, had divided it among the soldiers of both armies and dedicated the rest to rebuilding the devastated cities.
In the villages, farmers whispered.
He is the "son of Mandane."
Their own grandson, who had come to put an end to oppression and heavy taxes.
This news erased the last particles of fear and distrust from the hearts of the people.
The people of Media, tired of Azhidahak's tyranny, were now waiting with curiosity and a new hope.
They no longer saw him as a foreign enemy.
Rather, they saw him as the grandson of their own king, who had come to establish a new order.
In one of the small towns, the governor called an emergency council.
"We must close the gates and prepare for resistance!"
But one of the wealthy merchants stood up.
"Resistance against whom?"
"Against a man who shows mercy to his own grandfather and rewards his enemy's soldiers?"
"This is madness!"
This sentiment was surging in all the cities.
The people, instead of preparing for resistance, were preparing for a reception.
Women were weaving welcome carpets.
Men were decorating the gates with flowers.
The children, with excitement, were talking about this young and legendary prince.
In one of these very cities, two old Median soldiers were sitting in a corner of a square.
One said with bitterness, "The people are celebrating for their enemy."
The other replied calmly, "He is no longer an enemy, my friend."
"He tended to our wounded."
"He respected our dead."
"He... he treated our soldiers like brothers, not like the vanquished."
This change of attitude, this conquest of hearts before the conquest of lands, was Kourosh's greatest victory.
He had ended the war in the minds and hearts of the people before he had even reached their city walls.
Fariborz's network, by purposefully spreading this news, had set in motion an invisible force of hope throughout Media.
A force that made any military resistance meaningless.
One night, Fariborz came to Kourosh's tent.
"My lord, all the cities are ready to welcome you. The road to Ecbatana is open."
Kourosh looked at him calmly.
"This is your victory, Fariborz."
"You, with words, did what I could not do with a sword."