Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality-Chapter 672 - 235 Sun City_2

With a single wave of the staff, the surrounding guards retreated. Amidst the sounds of the wind outside the palace, Messe’s voice remained loud: "Egypt has already lost a year’s harvest, and the vegetation in the fields is all withered and yellow."

"What kind of price do you need to see to let us leave?"

"Never, you are the wealth of the Egyptians, the sinners banished by All Gods. No one can leave until your sins are cleansed!"

Clang—

Rising from the Golden Throne, Ramses reached for his Bronze Sword, noticing that the opponent’s Demon Art had grown stronger.

But it didn’t matter, he was not afraid of Messe’s methods, the snake he conjured, the winds he summoned, simply because these powers had no effect on him.

He was the Pharaoh, a god in the eyes of the Egyptians, not just a trick or a way to maintain a sense of mystery and prestige, but an objective description.

Because every Pharaoh and his descendants were protected by Divine Power, no mortal magician could harm them with Demon Art. Derived from the sun, the Divine Power always surrounded Ramses; though he couldn’t use it, he could still be protected by it.

Swoosh—

With a swing of the sword, the eyes behind the Gold mask were filled with murderous intent.

The air was cleaved by the sword’s edge, catching Messe somewhat off guard.

Ding—

Raising his hand to parry, the Serpent Staff blocked the edge of the Bronze Sword. But under the Pharaoh’s attack, Messe still stepped back.

"Ha, Sin People, where is your Demon Art, your god? If you’ve tried time and again to have me let you leave, wouldn’t the best way be to take me down, to capture the master of upper and lower Egypt, why aren’t you doing it?"

Bang—

Another powerful blow, and although decades of shepherding had left Messe’s physique sturdy, he indeed had no training in martial arts.

When their supernatural powers had no effect on each other, he could barely defend himself. In front of him, the Pharaoh showed no mercy.

"Come on, fight back. If you defeat me, I’ll admit that your god is superior to mine, and you can take me hostage to make the soldiers retreat, lead your people away."

"But why aren’t you acting, is it because you can’t?"

Swoosh—

The long sword swept across, Messe awkwardly dodged this blow. His staff lightly waved, and an invisible force immediately pulled him back.

Moving forward, the Pharaoh attacked with another swing of his sword.

However, finally catching on, Messe didn’t meet the attack, his figure flickered, and he appeared at the doorway of the Royal Palace.

"Heh."

With a cold sneer, seeing the enemy retreating, Ramses II did not pursue further. He was also of considerable age, standing in the center of the Royal Palace, the Pharaoh leaned on his sword.

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At that moment, he felt the changing looks from the surrounding guards and ministers. The morale and confidence that had fallen before were restored within those few blows, and the fear of the Evil God was swept away.

Yes, the Pharaoh was still here; even if the opponent had the protection of the Evil God, the Egyptians still had their Deity in the Mortal Realm!

"Sigh— Your Majesty, your swordsmanship has truly opened my eyes. But the will of god cannot be stopped by the power of mortals."

Standing at the doorway of the Royal Palace, Messe had never imagined that Ramses, as the Pharaoh of Egypt, would dare to draw his sword in conflict.

And he also had to admit, although somewhat risky, this was indeed the best response. He also saw the changing glances around, the hearts that had loosened due to losing contact with the Deity seemed to tighten once again.

His own desire to lead the people away seemed even more unlikely now.

"Hehe, Messe, your so-called will of god is merely the power of the Evil God."

"The glory of La illuminates the world, just as the sun rises from the east every day, never ceasing. Moreover, as the embodiment of God in the Mortal Realm, I, am here. If you have the ability, then come and kill me."

"But as long as I don’t fall one day..."

"The Egyptians will not submit to you!"

Rustle—

Suddenly, as if responding to Pharaoh’s declaration, accompanied by a flash of lightning, the previously dry land welcomed a torrential downpour.

The heavy rain fell from the sky, instantly washing away the previous dust.

Seeing this scene, the surrounding guards seemed to recall the accomplishments of Ramses II; just as he had said, he had never backed down.

"...Your Majesty, it seems I cannot persuade you. But I believe, one day, you will change your mind."

Messe looked around; at that moment, in the royal palace, those ministers whose gazes had previously flickered were now resolute.

He stepped back, his body disappearing into the curtain of rain.

Such heavy rain was manageable for the city, which had long had measures in place to deal with rainfall, but for the several hundred thousand Hebrews living in makeshift housing outside the city, it was a major disaster.

With another wave of his staff, the increasingly mystical Serpent Staff immediately took him away, and the silence returned to the palace in Memphis.

...

Clang—

Within the palace, taking a few steps back, sheathing his sword, Ramses II sat back down on his Golden Throne.

His gaze swept over the ministers present, none dared to meet his eye.

Good, because the turmoil brought by the previous prophecy from the High Priest was easily quelled, nothing could unify the people more than a victory.

However, this particular rainfall seemed quite coincidental, was this another act of divine punishment... Regardless, the annihilation of these sinners was indeed urgent.

"Gentlemen, as you’ve seen. These people cursed by the gods are becoming increasingly rebellious, so if I decide to wage war and annihilate all Hebrews, how long will the preparations take?"

With a calm demeanor, Pharaoh inquired indifferently, as if he wasn’t discussing a massacre.

"...Your Majesty, if you mean ’crushing,’ that isn’t hard to achieve. But if you want to kill them all... the number of their civilians far surpasses our soldiers, unless it’s within a city where we can guard the gates and walls, it’s nearly impossible to kill them all."

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A minister responded, articulating the reason Pharaoh had previously refrained from using force directly.

"...Hmm, so all we need is one city, then," Ramses II said, his fingers caressing the hilt of his bronze sword, his eyes growing colder.

At one point, seeming to think of something, he said, "I remember previously, those sinners were responsible for constructing the Temple?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. It’s just that the construction was temporarily halted due to the previous natural disaster."

"Very well."

Nodding, Pharaoh seemed to have discovered something. He slightly raised his hand, signaling the minister to take note.

"That capable Evil God Believer adept in Demon Art, tell him I’ve changed my mind."

"The Hebrews are sinners proclaimed by La, thus they cannot leave, but if they clear their sins, that could be reconsidered."

"One Temple is not enough, if they can construct a city like Heliopolis, worshiping La in the Sun City, perhaps their sins could be forgiven, and the gods might even permit them to leave."

The prior prophecy received by the High Priest also reminded Pharaoh that the Holy City seemed a bit far from Memphis.

Give the sinners hope, build a city, and then dedicate the city and their lives to La, all the while erasing potential threats.

"Go," Pharaoh said plainly, "if they do not comply, then it will be war."

"Their blood will stain the Nile red, and their bones will enrich the vegetation for the coming year. This is my final act of mercy."