"Your Majesty the Holy Pharaoh, I already know the purpose of your visit."
"We have our own reasons for not being able to leave."
Just as Isis opened her mouth, Ramses' body suddenly flashed with golden light, and then he hummed softly.
"Your Majesty the Holy Pharaoh."
"I have shown Nan Tong the way forward, and his soul will soon return to his body."
Lin Ke nodded and told Ramses what had just happened.
"Your Majesty, the Holy Pharaoh, they are unable to leave because of the plague in the city of Aswan."
Lin Ke listened to Ramses' words and nodded more confidently.
He had guessed early on that the plague was the source of their suffering.
"So why can't you leave?"
"Ramesses and I checked the information left by the priests in the temple. They wrote about the plague in Aswan and that your failure to bring down divine power led to the mass death in Aswan."
When Isis heard Lin Ke's words, she just smiled bitterly and shook her head. That smile was filled with helplessness and pain accumulated over thousands of years.
"Your Majesty the Holy Pharaoh, it is just as I said just now."
She raised her palm, and vivid pictures emerged in the white halo.
Obviously, those were fragments of memory, witnesses of her countless attempts and failures.
"Your Majesty the Holy Pharaoh, please take a look."
"If you still believe we can leave this place, then we are willing to follow your instructions."
"I trust the vision of Osiris."
Nephthys stepped forward to stop it, but in the end, she chose to remain silent.
Lin Ke squinted his eyes and looked at the scene that appeared in the halo.
In the picture, Isis stands on the top of the tallest temple in Aswan, with her arms outstretched, pouring blessings on the entire city.
Isis is an omnipotent, wise, maternal goddess with the most powerful magical powers.
She has powerful magic, life and healing powers.
A benevolent protector and giver of life and health.
Of course, that was not in the mortal world, and mortals could not see their true bodies, but the two supreme gods could see everything that happened in the city of Aswan.
The holy light was like a waterfall, which should have healed all wounds. However, when the white light touched the infected bodies, it was strangely twisted and deformed, turning into a dark green poisonous mist that rebounded back to the caster.
"Your Majesty the Holy Pharaoh, that was the first sign."
"My divine power has been polluted, like pure spring water flowing into a muddy mire."
"As you can see, I cannot purge the sickness."
In the big square, hundreds of patients lined up in long queues, waiting for the goddess' salvation.
Isis, a haggard figure, shuttled among the crowd. She performed healing magic again and again, but watched helplessly as every "cured" patient died suddenly after a few minutes.
Their blood boiled, their skin cracked, and black fluid gushed from their eyeballs.
"Your Majesty the Holy Pharaoh."
"I killed one thousand and twenty-four people with my own hands. I watched them die under my purifying divine power."
Then, Isis is shown kneeling by the Nile, her robe stained with blood, her hands stained with mud and tears.
In front of her was a child less than five years old. The small body had begun to rot. In Isis's eyes at that time, the child's body was emitting a strange light.
That's right, in Isis's eyes, the plague was like a pollution, and even her divine power would be changed by the plague.
"Even the dead children cannot rest in peace."
"When night falls, mournful cries echo from the cemetery. The souls desecrated by the plague cannot reach the Duat, and can only wander in agony forever."
"In the following time, I tried various ways of exerting divine power."
"But none of them can truly stop the plague. My divine power can even make the condition worse and prolong the suffering."
Finally, Lin Ke saw a mother running towards the temple with a dying young man in her arms.
The woman screamed and cried.
"Great Goddess Isis! Please save my child!"
"Please! Please!"
Isis smiled self-deprecatingly at this time and continued to explain to Lin Ke.
"Your Majesty the Holy Pharaoh, it is just as you can see."
"I used my divine power, and her child died in the temple."
"I feel the pain of my people and hear the cries of the souls of the dead."
"The disaster struck, and I could only watch them die one after another."
"Even our priests, I can't help."
"Until the last believer left the temple."
Lin Ke looked at Isis. It seemed that just telling this story made the god feel exhausted.
Obviously, this is indeed a god with great maternal power. She treats every citizen of Aswang as her own child.
As a result, the collapse of faith and her own powerlessness turned her maternal duties into her shackles.
"But why can't your divine power save the people of Aswang?"
"Your divine power is powerful magic and the source of healing for life."
“How can it become pollution?”
Lin Ke was just confused. In his opinion, the plague should be a curable disease for the Supreme God.
"Yes, Your Majesty the Holy Pharaoh."
"My divine power cannot heal my people."
"I still have no idea."
"And it was because of my actions, because of this disaster, that an even greater disaster occurred."
Isis said, and then turned her gaze to Nephthys on the other side.
Nephthys's purple gemstone eyes dimmed immediately, and her expression became more and more sad.
In the shadows, Nephthys' sigh is like a thousand-year-old wind.
"And I..."
She stretched out her finger, and a horrifying image emerged in the dark purple light.
“My situation is even more difficult.”
When Lin Ke looked at the scene presented by Nephthys, he immediately widened his eyes.
Because he saw that inside the temple, thousands of transparent souls were crowded in a small space. They were making shrill screams and cries, and the sounds mixed together, forming an indescribable mental torture.
Every soul is entangled with inky chains, which are the spiritual embodiment of the plague.
Nephthys, on the other hand, was suffering from mental torture that was tens of thousands of times more severe.
But because she was a god, even though this kind of pain could instantly turn a mortal into ashes, Nephthys, as the supreme god and patron saint of the dead, endured this pain.
"The souls of the dead cannot leave this world."
Nephthys explained to Link, her face distorted with sorrow.
"They are trapped in the middle zone by the plague, unable to reincarnate or rest in peace."
"Every day, I carry their pain, anger and confusion with me."
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