Chapter 4
10
"Bang—!"
The main gate of the royal palace was suddenly kicked open.
It was as heavy as being hit by a battering ram.
The guards carrying spears were immediately startled awake.
Upon closer inspection, I was so frightened that my scalp tingled.
A beam of cold, sharp moonlight shone through the high window, casting an icy blue light on the marble floor.
General Krieg, covered in blood, held the unconscious King Solan, who was wrapped in a blanket!
Krieg looks like a monster.
He was disheveled, with a deep cut on his neck that exposed bone, his throat almost broken, and he reeked of a strong, animalistic stench. He was utterly wretched and utterly undignified.
This is embarrassing.
Despite this, their city-state has always had the old tradition of paiderastia. The "lover" of erastês would form a couple for a period of time with the "beloved" of young ermenos in order to teach the skills that adult men need to master.
Krieg is close to Solan.
Many people speculated that they actually had a close relationship behind the scenes. But Wang's obsession with cleanliness extended beyond clothing to his sex life, so everyone pretended not to see it.
In nature, all animals know this.
Mating is the most dangerous time.
Were they suddenly attacked during that time?!
Kliger's eyes were bloodshot.
He wanted to speak, but the bright red wound only throbbed, gushing blood, as if breathing, the deep crack was visibly healing itself.
The terrified young guard finally understood what he meant.
In truth, from the moment he burst out the door to the moment his shouts echoed through the corridor, it was only a matter of a split second in his mind: "—Someone come here! Something's happened! Quickly, fetch the imperial physician!"
The terror spread throughout the palace overnight and into the city.
Several imperial physicians rushed over in a panic and did not return home throughout the night.
Solan faded away like a jewel covered in dust.
He had regained his cleanliness, his body temperature was extremely low, his breathing was becoming increasingly weak, and he wouldn't open his eyes no matter how much you called him.
Solan has been bedridden for many years.
But nobody thought he would die!
They admired him.
He believed that even Death himself was no match for his cunning and cunning methods.
Solan awoke a short while later, two days later.
He asked, "Where is Krieg?"
11
Solan recalled a fable his mother had told him when he was a child:
Once upon a time, a servant encountered Death in the market of Baghdad. Death's face was twisted, and the servant was terrified. Returning home, he asked his master for a horse and fled to Mecca. Later, the master also saw Death in the market and asked, "Why did you frighten him?" Death replied, "Nothing, I was just surprised. How could he be in Baghdad? Because tonight, he has a date with me in Mecca." ①
Krigor knelt by the bed, offering his punishment.
His hands and feet were shackled with bronze chains.
"Come on."
Solan chuckled softly, a self-deprecating laugh.
He stared at the wound on Krieg's neck for a long time.
Anyone in that situation would have died on the spot.
"Damn it—" After a while, he turned his head and cursed in a low voice, "You're harder to kill than a stray dog."
Kliger was unable to speak for the time being.
It only made a muffled "gurgling" sound from the bottom of its throat.
He repeatedly shoved the hidden enchanted dagger into Solan's hand.
He was thrown away.
"Alright. Stop courting death."
Solan closed his eyes.
"It's useless now."
He ordered Krieg to stay by his side in the bedroom, serving him closely and never leaving his side.
Because of Krieg's lies.
Aside from a very few individuals, everyone assumed he had been assassinated.
Solan could sense that his sacrifice to the ancient gods had failed.
His life was rapidly fading away.
Before, it was like a sheepskin water bladder with a small crack, leaking water drop by drop. Now it's just a big hole.
Even so, he did not give in.
He ordered the imperial physician to administer strong medicine.
A witch doctor is also acceptable.
The old doctor who had cared for him for ten years bravely advised him:
"Your Majesty, you are beyond medical help. Rather than resorting to those painful methods, I would like to use some illusionary flowers on you to alleviate your suffering..."
Why do you say that?
"I haven't seen any patients like yours survive."
“Oh, then I’ll be the first,” he said coldly.
Life force is lost like water poured into the desert.
Solan was told by the doctor that he wouldn't live past the next night.
In the end, he lived for another twenty-seven days.
This is already a miracle.
The last two days.
In his final moments of lucidity, he groaned and cursed to his heart's content.
"Damn God—he let me live only to kill me again!"
"He enjoys watching those who don't want to die die, it's a way for him to relieve his sorrow and boredom. He wants to see me destroyed, but I will never let him get away with it!"
Why should I die?!
He cried, tore at people, and hit them.
No matter how many blows he took, Krigo held him tightly without saying a word.
Whenever Solan went mad, Kliger would always dismiss everyone else.
He knew best that his master didn't like being seen in a state of disarray.
The master wants everything to be beautiful.
Eating should be done gracefully, riding a horse should be done gracefully, killing should be done gracefully, and of course, dying should also be done gracefully.
Solan used up some of his strength and calmed down.
He stared at Krieg's hand for a long time.
explain:
"You little bastard, your hands are huge. Hands born for fighting. ...Why are my hands so small? Why was I born with a disease that prevents me from practicing martial arts?"
"If I could train, I would definitely train better than you."
“In that case, the army wouldn’t be as disrespectful to me as they are now. I know they don’t like a monarch who has to grovel before them and lives high in the palace; they just keep their distance from me.”
"Why couldn't Mom be stronger? Why did she abandon me? Why couldn't she wait until I grew up? Didn't she believe my promise that I would protect her?"
"Why? Krieg, tell me, why is that?"
Krieg's throat injury hadn't healed yet.
He still cannot speak.
These past few days, Solan has been taking care of him in every way, and has been a good master for a rare and brief time.
The owner's hand, tightly clenched, was so soft.
My palm twitched slightly, but I finally let go.
Solan murmured, "Voe victis."
In the Common Era, Rome was defeated by Gaul. Gaul demanded a thousand pounds of gold in reparations from Rome. The Romans felt the price was too high, and a dispute ensued. At this point, the Gaul leader placed his sword on the scales and taunted the Romans: "Voe victis."
The loser has no right to bargain with the winner.
Now, Death has placed his sword on the other side of the scales of fate.
He won.
12
It was early that day.
The sunlight was pale.
The princes and ministers surrounded the bed.
Only Krieg, like a relative, knelt and held his hand from beginning to end.
I opened the curtains today, something I hadn't done in a long time.
In the past month, Solan's already sickly skin has become even whiter and more transparent, as thin as gauze, or like some kind of fragile crystalline glass, delicately clinging to her beautiful facial bones.
It's both beautiful and unreal.
It's truly frightening that he might melt into the light.
This vast and impregnable empire, seemingly unshakeable and powerful, rests on the shoulders of such a frail and beautiful woman, held in his delicate, slender hands.
He will die.
The empire will fall apart.
The atmosphere was eerily quiet, the deathly stillness so thick that a dagger could stand upright in it.
A dying king is a broken commodity.
Finally, he could offer his life as a sacrifice to those in power.
The minister bowed low, his body tilting as if in a gesture of respect, and asked, "King Solan, we all sincerely pray that you live a long and healthy life. But the will of the gods is hard to defy... and you have no sons or brothers, so to whom will you designate the kingdom?"
Solan languidly opened his eyes slightly.
His lips moved slightly, uttering a barely audible sound.
"who?"
"Come closer."
I had no choice but to get infinitely close.
She nervously pressed her ear to his lips.
With a smile, Solan said:
"—For the strongest."
His final order was to Krieg.
He ordered him to live.
"Otherwise, within two months, damn it, someone will definitely desecrate my grave."
Solan muttered. He knew very well how much people hated him.
Seeing the nobles, each with their own ulterior motives, surrounding the person listening to the last words and interrogating him like a pot of boiling water.
He closed his eyes contentedly.
He pulled Krieg's large hand over and pressed it against his face to warm it.
Solan sank back into the dreams of his childhood.
The little boy pestered his mother for stories. Late at night, his mother wrapped him in a cashmere cloak and laid him on a thick, soft cotton mat. She kissed his tender cheeks, her eyes smiling gently: "My little darling, it's time to sleep. Even gods need to sleep when they're little."
"Mother."
He murmured, "Mom."
13
For a long time after Solan's death, Kliger went mad.
His injured throat couldn't even produce a cry; he could only manage a hoarse, muffled sound, deep and resonant, as if emanating from the very depths of a torn soul.
He was sick for two whole months.
He dreams of his master every night, and he feels him stroking his face.
He heard his master chuckle and softly call him, "Little bastard, little devil."
The nobles in the capital and his devoted subordinates had no choice but to call in a doctor.
Bottle after bottle of medicine was poured down his throat.
Krigor cannot die; he is the empire's sharpest weapon, a deterrent to all. —If he must die, it cannot be now.
"King Solan commanded you to live on his deathbed."
Someone reminded him.
And so, he got better.
Time passed, just as everything else would pass. Krieg gradually regained his appetite, was able to sleep, participate in political affairs, and even went on two campaigns, just like before, turning every place he went into a slaughterhouse.
His voice was also cured, and he could speak again, but his tone became hoarse and unpleasant.
Occasionally, he would chat about trivial matters.
He said to the eunuch who served Solan:
"This piece of furniture has been around for many years. Don't you think the bird painted on it looks like it's staring at people? The day my owner took me in, this clock was in his study. I stood there barefoot, feeling as if I was being inspected and tested by the furniture. He looked at my dirty feet, laughed, and said, 'You will grow very tall.' My owner was really amazing; he knew everything."
Many people try to please him or drive him crazy.
Sometimes they would send him blond-haired, blue-eyed male prostitutes, and sometimes they would have people of similar build dressed in clothes similar to Solan's and parade in front of him.
The second year of the Flower Festival.
People celebrated as usual, and the festivities were as lively and joyous as ever.
Cligor also went out into the streets to join the people in their merriment.
A bold flower girl shoved her basket in front of him; the wicker basket was full of pink roses. "This sale is sure to be made," she thought, "General, are you buying flowers? You like pink roses, don't you? I saw you wearing them last year."
The bard is singing.
The lyrics wish all lovers in the world a happy ending.
The enchanting music lingered, intertwined with bursts of laughter that pierced his heart.
He suddenly shuddered.
A thousand arrows pierce the heart.
My soul was torn apart once again.
Just then, a gust of wind blew his cloak away.
It was a gift from its owner on his twentieth birthday. The purple and gold ribbons symbolized royalty and were Solan's favorite colors and style. It was blown far away and finally landed on a clump of overgrown rushes.
This kind of grass grows all around Solan's grave.
That night, Krieg was found with his throat slit again.
He's gone mad.
The people of the capital, during their leisure time, would watch the spectacle and say:
I knew it! Haha, His Majesty is dead, he'll go crazy sooner or later.
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