At the same time, outside Thermopylae, in the eastern camp of the Persian army, groans rose and fell, and the atmosphere was heavy and stifling.
In the central open ground, a pitch-black column of smoke curled upward. The thick stench of burning and blood spread through the air, while hundreds of soldiers with split heads and bloodied faces were hastily bandaged and carried onto stretchers.
The two kings of Persia, Xerxes and Darius I, stood at the edge of a bottomless conical pit. They stared at the black crater rim, like the mark left by a meteorite striking the surface of the moon, their faces ashen.
"This was supposed to be finished by the time I returned…"
After a moment of silence, the newcomer in a white robe embroidered with a golden flame emblem casually rubbed his fingers together. The blue stone-brick fragment engraved with divine script between his fingertips was swallowed by a surge of blazing white flame and reduced to dust.
The terrifying heat that rolled outward scorched and curled the beards and hair of the two kings of Persia. Their faces turned pale, sweat poured down their bodies, and instinctive fear sent tremors through them.
"Your Highness, it was the Greeks! The Greeks brought in two powerful allies! They caught us off guard and launched a surprise attack here!"
Darius I could not tell whether the sweat beading on his forehead came from fear's chill or the flame's searing heat.
Seeing the Holy Spirit, beautiful beyond anything mortal, with blazing white light flickering in his palm, he hurriedly struck his chest with his right fist. His tall, imposing frame seemed to shrink before that slender, elegant figure as he lowered his head and explained in a rushed voice.
"That's right! They really are powerful!
"Especially those two foreign women. They're practically monsters! Tanbei Valley was only lightly caught up in an earlier interception battle, but now it's become a ghostly wasteland. The nearby mountains have completely collapsed, and not a single blade of grass remains within a hundred miles!"
Beside him, Xerxes stood half-hidden behind his father-in-law, cautiously adding his own explanation while emphasizing the enemy's strength and trying to excuse himself.
"The [Tower of Babel] really was nearly complete. But last night, the Greeks launched a surprise attack and drew our attention away. Then a flaming stone, like a burning star, fell from the sky and pierced straight through twelve layers of Magecraft barriers, smashing the [Tower of Babel] on the spot!
"In the firelight, I vaguely saw that it was the foreigner named Kukulkan behind it!
"No, I'm certain! That's exactly what happened!"
Kukulkan, the Mayan Feathered Serpent?
No wonder…
The gem-like Holy Spirit looked at the stone-brick fragments scattered across the ground, his expression thoughtful and slightly calmer.
"It isn't only Kukulkan. The Jaguar Woman beside her is no easy opponent either. The enemy has also brought in Achilles, the great Greek hero of the Troy War, to support them, and this time he came to Thermopylae with quite a few companions!
"Right now, even with the Great Lord's Seven Riders and the heroes I recruited taking turns on the field, we still can't take Thermopylae quickly!
"That is the truth. Please see it clearly!
"The Great King already knows about this, and he has not punished us…"
The quick-witted Xerxes noticed the subtle change in the Holy Spirit's expression and grew bolder. While laying out his reasons, he did not forget to drag "Cyrus the Great" into the matter as well.
From his recent observations, this descended Divine Spirit, despite being decisive in slaughter and almost without mercy, showed a subtle respect toward the Great Lord.
"But you still failed in your duty!"
The Holy One frowned and snorted coldly, making his displeasure plain.
"We understand! We understand! But Your Highness, considering how urgent the battle situation is, please allow us to atone for our failure. Give us three more days to rebuild the [Tower of Babel]!"
Seeing this, Xerxes felt not fear but joy, and he pleaded humbly again and again.
For a god standing high above, the more emotion he showed, the more it meant the matter could still be salvaged.
What Xerxes feared most was that this Holy One would give them no chance to explain at all and simply burn him and his father-in-law to ash with a casual wave of fire.
"Very well. I will give you three more days. You must rebuild the [Tower of Babel] within the appointed time."
The Holy One nodded faintly and casually dispersed the blazing white light in his palm. His golden-red eyes looked down upon the kneeling kings of Persia with a quiet gaze that seemed to pierce straight through their hearts and lungs.
The moment Xerxes met his eyes, a violent burning sensation passed through his soul. The hidden hopes and stray thoughts in his heart were instantly burned away by fear. He hurriedly lowered his head and answered with repeated obedience.
"We will obey your decree. To end this War of Light and Darkness that has lasted 12,000 years and bring the Gospel to this world, we swear to fulfill the Mandate of Heaven even unto death!"
Hearing Xerxes's solemn promise and hymn-like praise, the Holy One raised his hand and drew the two of them to their feet with divine power, a trace of warmth entering his eyes.
"Remember, the [Tower of Babel] is the key that lets you 'hear Heaven's voice above and carry out the will of the gods below.'"
As that jade-white hand lightly patted his shoulder, Xerxes trembled. His bones seemed to soften, and he nodded again and again, overwhelmed by flattered panic.
"As long as you understand. Go and prepare as quickly as possible. There isn't much time left…"
The two kings of Persia nodded frantically again. Then Xerxes, growing a little bolder, could not help but remind him.
"My Lord, under normal circumstances, we are indeed confident we can finish it within three days. But the Greeks…"
The Holy One stopped, his face darkening like a storm. That faint glance nearly scared Xerxes's soul out of his body.
"A pack of useless fools!"
Fortunately, that oppressive gaze soon shifted toward the narrow pass between the mountains, and the Holy One spoke with a cold snort.
"Do what you are supposed to do. I will handle the battle at Thermopylae myself."
As that gem-like figure moved toward the edge of the camp, the priests and ritualists along the way, who had been treating the wounded and repairing the fortifications, quickly stopped what they were doing. They crossed their hands over their chests, bowed their heads, and solemnly chanted hymns in the divine tongue to see this Divine Spirit off.
"Lord of Light, Father of Flames, our god Mithra, mightiest among created beings, I offer you poetry and wine. May your radiant glory dispel the darkness, bring victory in every battle and triumph in every war, and let the Gospel descend upon this world…"
Amid the chanting, the identity of the Saint was already clear.
Mithra, God of Light, the Holy Spirit born from fire, the mightiest creation of Ahura Mazda, Lord of Wisdom, and the "Infinite Light" closest to that Supreme Deity.
...
Meanwhile, in Egypt, on the shore of the Red Sea.
A figure walked across the rolling waves. With every tap of his staff and every step he took, the surging tide beneath him seemed to become a tamed beast, turning into a gentle, steady current.
Each step he took was careful and deliberate. The distance between one step and the next was so even it seemed measured by a ruler. The storm around him and the waves beneath his feet had no effect on him at all.
After several hours of walking across the water, the silver-haired man finally reached the opposite shore. His robes were in tatters, the tears revealing broad stretches of bronzed, well-built skin.
He climbed to a high place and looked out. The winding Nile, the fertile farmlands irrigated by its waters, the towering Ramesseum Tentyris, and the hot-sand Sphinxes patrolling back and forth. All these familiar yet unfamiliar sights entered his eyes, awakening memories in the silver-haired man that had been silent for who knew how long.
The man tightened the shoulder straps connected to the chest on his back, gazed at the beautiful afterglow of the setting sun, and murmured softly.
Nefertari, I'm home…
At that very moment, within the Ramesseum Tentyris, a pair of golden eyes suddenly opened.
***
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