Chapter 5
14
Life is in my hands, and so is rebirth.
I am the resurrection, and the life. *
.
"Whoosh."
A thin torch made of cedar wood was lit.
A very soft sound.
Yet, deep within this tomb, as still as a deep well and as dark as ink, it still appears so clear and striking.
The air felt stuffy, as if it were blocking my lungs.
The flames could only illuminate a small patch of rock at their feet.
Two thin men, like mice, crouched and hunched over, nimbly navigating the tunnel they had spent a year and a half digging.
Finally, we entered a side room, and the space opened up, allowing us to stretch out our arms and legs.
They were tomb raiders.
It took nearly three years of hard work to excavate King Solan's tomb. They studied the timing of the shift change for the tomb guards, and then, taking advantage of General Kliger's illness, they risked their lives in a critical moment. Today, they finally achieved their goal.
By this time, the two men were covered in dust and dirt, exhausted and thirsty. Their eyes, however, gleamed with greed, and their hearts pounded with anticipation at the prospect of immense wealth.
They had heard rumors that King Solan had inscribed a curse in the tomb.
But—who cares.
People outside are almost starving to death, or they're being killed; there's no way for them to survive.
After Solan's death.
What was buried with him was not only gold and treasures, but also peace and tranquility throughout the land.
Everything is in complete chaos now.
But as the saying goes:
A huge mess can bring in a lot of money.
This is the perfect opportunity for them to make a fortune.
They tiptoed along, whispering as if afraid of disturbing a ghost:
“Your Majesty Solan…we did not mean to offend you.”
"Yes, yes, we just came to borrow something."
"You were quite a remarkable king during your lifetime."
He chuckled dryly, then added, half-jokingly:
"Actually, I still respect you quite a bit."
after all.
Three years have passed since Solan left, and the world still hasn't seen a second ruler who can command the hearts and minds of everyone.
The current situation is even more chaotic than it was before Solan left his hometown and began to conquer the world.
One by one, the nobles and lords who had sworn allegiance to him broke their alliances and declared themselves kings. Many city-states changed hands repeatedly, with some even having two kings in a single week. Wars broke out one after another, with bloodshed every day and countless people dying like ashes, all in vain.
The people initially rejoiced at Solan's death.
They criticized him for imposing exorbitant taxes.
However, after his death, taxes were not reduced but increased, and were repeatedly plundered and extorted by different noblemen.
They criticized him for building roads and walls, exploiting slaves and commoners, and treating human life as worthless. Back then, people were worked to death or stoned to death every day.
It was only now that I realized that at least the foreman had provided a straw mat for collecting the body and there was also a compensation payment.
The wall of miracles, built with blood and cursed daily by the people of the capital during Solan's reign, is now being used to defend against bandits and foreign enemies.
People then realized with deep regret:
Solan—he was both an absolute tyrant and a wise ruler who governed the country well.
After going mad, Kliger never went to war again.
In fact.
Originally, everyone believed that Krieg was the one closest to the throne.
He only needed to take a small step forward.
The golden throne is within easy reach.
But he didn't.
He withdrew his troops, keeping them only near the capital, like a pitiful, trapped beast that refused to leave its nest and remained stagnant.
Lately, I've heard that his lucid moments are getting shorter and shorter, and he's been frequently delirious and having hysteria.
There are already newly promoted young generals in the army.
They were quietly eroding his military power.
Two tomb raiders began scaling walls and ransacking the place, searching for burial goods. Treasures jingled and clattered everywhere: ivory, gold, and crystals.
They made a few jokes to bolster their courage.
"What's that old saying again? Fate favors the bold."
"There's another saying—the dead don't bite the living."
Go through a door.
There was a tiny, bean-sized light ahead.
Approach.
This is an ever-burning lamp.
The bronze lampstand gleamed, entwined with gilded grapevines, its intricate and ancient patterns suggesting it had been burning since Solan's burial. It was said to be a spirit medium, imbued with magic, capable of burning to the very end of time, guiding the spirits of the dead to the magnificent temple of the gods.
Both of them were stunned for a moment.
One of them reacted first and whistled.
The main burial chamber must be just ahead!
It takes a long time.
Finally, the bolt was pulled and the door was opened.
An intense, almost eerie floral fragrance wafted towards us.
It choked my nose.
Surprisingly, the room was very empty, but every inch of the walls was covered with thick gold.
A huge, heavy coffin sat alone in the center, lying on a high stone platform.
Where the firelight shone, the coffin, dark as iron, seemed to be shimmering with golden threads like sunlight.
"Don't be greedy. Don't touch the coffin."
After prying up the gold, seeing his companion climbing the steps, the other man said uneasily.
Even though I don't believe in superstitions, it's always good to be cautious. There are many strange things in this world that are hard to explain.
"No... I think I heard something."
"ah?"
"Look at the ground, aren't those flowers?"
He looked down and saw the flower petals on the ground.
Fresh and moist.
He was stunned.
How is that possible?
Why do fresh flowers grow in sealed tombs?
Hallucination?
Just then—
Sudden,
The baby's cries began, louder and louder and louder...
Continuous, thin, and intermittent.
They stood frozen in place, as if under a spell, immobilized, fear washing over them like ice water, running down their spines and through their entire bodies.
There was no other place in the room where one could make a sound.
The crying came from the coffin.
Between the nailed coffin lid and the coffin body, there was a crack that had been forced open from the inside out by some force.
It was pitch black.
It was like the glance of some evil spirit.
Suddenly, a hand reached out!
—Pale, slender fingers with thin, bluish veins protruding on the back of the hand.
15
Solan was sickly and frail, so he began preparing for his death at a very young age.
He once had a gold coffin made in his hometown. It was made of the finest oak and inlaid with gold leaf. Various skilled craftsmen devoted themselves to its creation for seven or eight years, making it a true work of art.
He gave it to Krieg.
It was used to bury Krieg's mother, the princess.
Then we had to redo it.
At that time, he had already been granted the title of King of Kings, and all the nations around him submitted to him.
The royal court of the Sand Sea presented him with a golden crown resembling the sun;
The highland states offered ivory and diamonds;
The archipelago nation sent spices and deep-sea pearls;
The natives of the far north offered amber stones.
Among them, a forest tribe in the south had an ebony tree that had been worshipped for a thousand years. Someone gave him branches and leaves, which, despite traveling thousands of miles, did not lose their luster.
Solan took a liking to it at first sight.
He ordered his men to forcibly cut down the tree to make a coffin. When it was cut open, the heartwood revealed golden threads that resembled clouds and flowers.
Solan was overjoyed and extremely satisfied.
The tribe's priest was so angered by him that he died.
Before he died, the old man wept bitterly and cursed him: "You god-slayer... After you die, your soul will never find peace, wandering among mortals, tormented by boundless nothingness and loneliness."
Solan heard this and simply chuckled lightly.
According to his own wishes.
He didn't want to be burned by fire, and he also hated being gutted and made into a mummy.
Therefore, the entire body was buried after only undergoing anti-corrosion treatment.
He died a beautiful death.
When he died, his eyes and mouth were closed, without wrinkles or fear, as if he had simply fallen into a peaceful sleep. People removed the high pillow he was leaning against and laid him flat on his back.
Then, Krieg personally cleaned his body, making sure every inch of his skin, nails, hair, and toes were clean and beautiful. He then carefully applied a secret antiseptic medicine mixed with gold powder, which gave his fair skin a light golden glow, as if it were shining brightly.
The spacious coffin was lined with soft, scented silk padding to prevent insect damage, and various fresh flowers—there were plenty of them, as it was shortly after the Flower Festival.
On the day of the funeral, as summer approached, the temperature had already begun to become hot and sluggish.
However, Solan's body, which had been lying in state for two days, did not decompose. Instead, it had a faint fragrance, and his skin was like flower petals, slightly pale, limp, and withered.
People also think:
A beauty is a beauty; even her corpse is so beautiful.
No one knew that he did not decay after being sealed in the tomb.
He had no breath, no temperature, no feeling.
But it seems he's not completely dead.
Time stood still for him.
Several months later, it quietly and slowly began to flow backward again.
The flowers in the coffin first fell off and crumbled, but then took root and grew.
Life force seeped into every cell of Solan's body like threads finer than spider silk.
In his tomb, directly above the main burial chamber.
Centered around the lapis lazuli obelisk inscribed with his achievements, the area was surrounded by his favorite cypress, yew, and boxwood trees, as well as a few fruit trees—apple, apricot, and pear—all newly planted.
Fruit trees that would normally take several years to bear fruit produced juicy, plump fruits in just two or three months.
The refugees often stole the food to fill their stomachs; they picked it, and it grew back, picked it, and it grew back, from spring to winter, seemingly endless.
What else could this be but a miracle?
King Solan.
King Solan, whom they did not cherish while he was alive, is now protecting and nourishing his people even after his death.
So what reason do they have not to worship?
Some people even perform crude and ridiculous resurrection rituals of their own design.
Come back.
Solan.
Our King.
The world needs your rule.
"puff."
The following summer.
One day.
Within Solan's barely perceptible bulge in her abdomen, a tiny, weak heartbeat could be heard.
It's as if it appeared out of thin air.
Thump, thump, thump...
The little life curled up inside him, turning around and injecting warm blood drop by drop into the mother's body.
I don't know how much time has passed.
Finally, Solan's petrified heart began to pump, and a flush of wine rose on his face.
But he remained immersed in tranquility and did not awaken.
Until another year passed.
His belly is getting more and more swollen.
One day.
A liquid was gushing out from beneath him; it was amniotic fluid.
The amniotic fluid nourished the flowers, which began to grow wildly, swelling and expanding, struggling towards the coffin like a flood. One sturdy iron nail after another was pried open.
Air rushed in.
Solan suddenly gasped for breath and woke up.
It's really painful.
He thought.
My stomach hurts a little, but I feel mostly empty.
I feel cold, but it is precisely because I have heat that I can feel cold.
The deep, dull pain in my lower abdomen was something I had never experienced before.
It felt like a hole had been dug deep inside my body, reaching all the way to my feet, with no bottom. My buttocks and groin were soaked and sticky with an unclean feeling.
A tender, hot, and smooth little thing, still connected by its umbilical cord, crawled straight onto him.
It was nudging his chest, as if looking for milk.
"Waaaaah..."
The little thing is crying.
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