When the old royal physician was allowed into the Pharaoh's office, the sun had already set.
At this mont, the old physician looked quite uneasy.
On one hand, the news he brought was definitely not good; on the other hand, it was because of the Pharaoh's beloved pet.
This lion had been brought back by the Pharaoh from the hot and open savannas.
It was said that in its youth, the lion had once t the Pharaoh by chance.
At that ti, it was poisoned by a snake but still remained strong.
Touched by its resilience, the prince took it into his arms and saved it with an antidote.
More than ten years later, when they t again, the lion recognized a familiar scent and had since beco the Pharaoh's close companion.
The Pharaoh was writing at his desk.
The old physician's eyes moved away from the Pharaoh and toward the corner of the room, where the majestic animal was staring at him with golden eyes.
It recognized the old physician and its golden eyes no longer emitted a fierce aura.
The old physician breathed a sigh of relief and stepped forward a few steps. "The queen has awakened, my lord," he said, "but she is about to be taken to the delivery room."
Rases snapped his reed pen in half with a "crack" and lifted his head, his gaze cold and stern.
What the physician saw was the deep fear hidden inside the Pharaoh's heart.
"I won't say more. You must ensure the queen's safety!"
Before the physician could say anything else, the Pharaoh irritably waved him off, signaling him to get to work imdiately.
Despite having a head full of things he wanted to say, the physician could only salute and hurriedly leave.
Rases watched the old figure leave the room, then tossed aside the half-used reed pen.
The cold expression on his face was replaced by agitation.
He stood up and paced back and forth in the room, faster and faster.
How much he wanted to rush into the delivery room, but he couldn't.
The midwives in the Hall of Life were praying to the goddess Hathor for her divine power. Any rash move would ruin everything.
"Damn it!" Rases began to long for the battlefield, where his enemies were far simpler than the palace's worries.
"Brother, you have already killed one of my children. Do you want to kill the second one? Or even kill Nefertari?!" His eyes beca terrifying.
He didn't notice a figure stumbling out from the dark corner of the room.
But his lion noticed.
The beast suddenly leapt up and roared fiercely, lunging at the shadow, also waking Rases from his dreadful thoughts.
"Who's there?" Rases was both shocked and angry—shocked by the roar from his beloved pet and angry that despite layers of palace guards, soone had managed to reach behind him.
He rushed to the wall, where weapons hung, grabbed a bronze sword at random, ready to strike.
When Rases was just over ten years old, his own father had taken him into the grass to fight wild buffalo.
That was a genuine father-son mont, with no servants around.
Calling for guards in dangerous situations would be considered a mark of weakness—even a third-rate cripple—in dieval or early dieval noble rulers' eyes, but in this era, it was downright disgraceful.
"Don't be so angry." The person who had sneaked up behind Rases spoke fluent Egyptian as he said this, flipping the attacking lion over onto its back with one hand.
"Killer!" Rases was astonished—this man's strength was incredible.
He threw his sword at the man's chest and grabbed a spear.
"Efficient—royalty of this era really are impressive." The newcor sighed.
At his feet, the lion nad Killer was pinned down by one hand, while Rases' thrown sword was firmly held in the other.
In Rases' shocked gaze, the man's hand holding the sword suddenly burst into flas, lting the blade away.
The fiery light briefly revealed his face before vanishing back into darkness, leaving only a pair of black eyes visible.
Neither Egyptian sorcerers nor Nubian witches could perform this kind of magic.
Although Egypt had magic that controlled natural forces, it was not used in this way.
Only the Hittites used power like this. Those brutal Anatolians had built a pantheon in Hattusa, worshiping both their gods and those of conquered nations, gaining devilish power.
"Hittites!" Rases' eyes filled with murderous intent. "Do you want to wage war on Egypt?"
But he found it strange.
His guards were all outside the door, yet no one had noticed this person.
As far as he knew, Hittite magicians were not good at hiding their movents, and with such a commotion, the soldiers should have heard it.
But no one had co in.
This was sowhat like Nubian witchcraft.
"Who said I'm Hittite?"
The mysterious man stepped out from the shadows.
The firelight fully illuminated this strange but powerful young man's face. He looked young, and his features were unlike any ethnic group Rases knew.
The man released the lion, and Rases felt much calr, realizing he sensed no hostility from him.
"Killer, co back!" Rases called, as his companion was about to pounce again.
With a reluctant low growl, Killer obediently returned to Rases' side.
"That's the spirit of an emperor." The man clapped his hands and dusted off his clothes. "This is the first ti I've ever been covered in lion fur."
"You... definitely don't seem like a Hittite."
This guy was definitely not an assassin.
His brother certainly wouldn't hire an assassin with such skills, nor would the Hittite king use such a man as an assassin.
This sparked Rases' strong interest.
"Who are you? What kind of magic is this?" he asked.
"Magic? It's considered your Egyptian magic." The young man chuckled. "My na is a bit weird. You can just call Seth."
"Such arrogance." Rases laughed. "Do you know only a Pharaoh can use that na? On that alone, I should have you torn to pieces."
"That's impossible. Kill , and you won't have a daughter." The man calling himself Seth said. "I just ca from your delivery room. Your wife is fine. The target is your daughter. She likely won't survive long after birth."
"I am Pharaoh. I have many sorcerers who serve . That's not a problem."
"Why say that if you don't believe them?"
"But these sorcerers serve the Pharaoh's family for generations. Aren't they more trustworthy than you?"
"Yeah, they serve the Pharaoh's family—but your family wasn't originally Pharaoh. If they were truly loyal, why did Tutankhamun and Ankhesenamun die?"
This mysterious man's knowledge of Egypt surprised Rases again.
"You say my daughter is cursed?" he asked again.
"Of course. I just ca from there. By the way, your Egyptian childbirth customs are really sothing..."
"Those people are the most experienced priests of the Hall of Life.
They can invoke the goddess Hathor's power to protect my wife and child. You may call yourself Seth, but that doesn't an you can offend the goddess Hathor."
"Hathor can't save your daughter. Let's not waste ti." The young man seed impatient. "I ca for you, and saving your daughter is a bonus. If you don't like the na Seth, call Hikigaya Hachiman."
This mysterious man was none other than Hikigaya Hachiman, who had made his way to mphis and infiltrated the palace.
"Hikigaya Hachiman…" Rases repeated carefully, nodding. "Foreign nas are always strange. Are you a noble?"
"What kind of noble am I…" Hikigaya said. "Besides, I don't have nobles where I co from. So, do you want your daughter or not?"
"To speak to like that, you're definitely no noble—but you have the spirit of a king. Interesting. Co, let's see if you can solve my problem."
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