In the afternoon, Aaron found the luggage of their family, which Marrum valued as "the property of His Majesty", and then made a lounge chair according to the craftsmanship skills taught by Marrum.
He proudly lay on it, waiting for the end of the day.
He could still lay on it and cool off after the sun set, feeling great.
Aaron didn't realize he was a bit lazy. He seemed to be eating and sleeping, showing no talent as the offspring of Zeus.
After all, Hercules could kill the giant snake as soon as he was born, while he himself had no other advantage except for his good looks.
Oh, being handsome doesn't necessarily cut it.
In front of his father, people always felt like an annoying brat.
In Thebes, it was bad enough that girls of the same age would ask about their father's preferences, but even same-gender companions would gradually test the waters with jokes, trying to find out what the old fellow liked.
That donkey, a nameless donkey so far, would occasionally lick its tongue at him.
Since the donkey discovered that it could bully Marrum without resistance, it awakened some strange fetishes.
Aaron pushed the donkey's tongue away and counted on his fingers, musing:
"Our family currently has a father, a mother, me, Marrum, and you. You are the fifth one, so from now on, you will be known as Old Number Five."
Old Number Five didn't speak, because it was just a donkey, not a fast horse galloping across the grassland.
Aaron got excited: "That's settled then. From now on, you'll be known as Old Five. Otherwise, every time I call you, there'll be no name for you."
Old Number Five hummed a few times and turned to look at the several other horses standing by its side, all with beautiful figures, smooth and glossy skin, and shiny fur. It approached them.
Aaron muttered under his breath, "Hey, what are you doing? I'm naming you!"
Now, as it was time for Marrum to leave before sunset to gather intelligence, and Old Number Five, being a vain horse, had no time to groom himself.
That old thing was lying in the tent, not sure what he was up to.
He was really bored and couldn't sleep at this time, so he couldn't go to his younger brother to develop feelings.
Aaron got up from the lounge chair and started rummaging through his father's tools.
Those were the molds used for firing clay tablets, the pestles, and the vessels for mixing the clay.
This stuff, has it not been used as my urinal before? Aaron thought in his heart, poured clear water into it, and began mixing the clay.
Carving characters on clay tablets is a delicate task.
The soil is too wet, and it cannot ensure the clarity of the writing. It is too dry, and it will become brittle, with many cracks after firing.
However, because Aaron has been watching his father burn clay tablets since he was a child, he is also proficient in this task.
After all, this is the only craft his father taught him.
A blacksmith who has fallen on hard times and is earning money by making clay tablets can be seen as having a decent craft.
Of course, Aaron thought that these were all thanks to the help of some rich women. After all, some love words were too vulgar to be said out loud. They were written on papyrus paper and then engraved by his father on the clay tablets.
Aaron had never seen his father blush while engraving those love letters. That old fellow seemed completely devoid of emotion.
According to Geryon's words, the future father should be even less human, with no humanity left.
That's why they sent Marrum back, hoping to try to retain his father's humanity in the past.
He wrote down Geryon's name on the clay tablet and felt he could write a letter to his younger brother.
Aaron took out the nail that Loar gave him from his belt and began writing, and amazingly, it went incredibly smoothly.
"My younger brother Geryon, and also wishes your foster parents good health."
"This is a letter written in the past, and I will bury it at a spot where Orion's three stars can be seen from above, corresponding to the three pyramids of Giza."
"It seems like there's nothing to say. I'm just too bored now. I wonder why you look so tired. Is it because you're managing the mess left by our father, or are you busy with the war against demons?"
"Oh, I dreamed of another younger brother, Loar Aurilian, in a place called Colchis. I thought it was in Egypt, but after I arrived there, I found out it wasn't."
"Loar is also very compliant and has agreed to give our father a good beating when he sees him. The pen used to write these words is from the broken end of Loar's hammer. He's very handsome, but like me, he's also bald. If you meet Loar, you might think of a way to solve our family's problem of thinning hair."
"I don't know about the future, the relationship between you, my younger brothers. I hope it's not too rigid, otherwise, it will be hard for me, as an older brother, to die peacefully."
"Seeing the letters is like seeing the face, but I can't even guarantee that you will be able to recognize these words."
"Alright, dinner has been brought over. It's roasted beef, said to be for the warriors before the competition."
"Love your brother."
"——Aaron Will."
Aaron carefully placed the clay tablet into the furnace, watching as the attendants of the priest Dalait brought over the roasted beef.
The attendants were all concerned about when the father inside the tent would come out, but no one cared about themselves, as the warrior who was about to face Estar on the battlefield.
He was in a bad mood and pulled a piece of beef leg to chew.
He eagerly awaited the clay tablet to be baked just right, then hurriedly fished it out in a fluster.
The clay tablet quickly cooled down. He watched as the attendants opened the tent, serving his father with food and washing his face as if attending to a king.
And the old fellow with a shaved face showed no discomfort at all, as if he had always been their master.
What a luxury, to have the audacity to open his mouth and let a maid cradle him in her arms while cleaning his teeth with toothpicks.
Aaron looked at the eyes of those maids as if they were sparkling like stars. The male attendants around them were also the same——
He felt a shiver go up his spine.
No one even noticed the disappearance of Marrum, and no one cared about him either.
Aaron found a shovel and put the clay tablet on his back, going to find the place where it was buried.
Could it be possible that father was using his charm to draw attention, allowing Marrum to gather intelligence smoothly,
That old fellow is the most selfish! How can it be possible that he would use his charm to draw attention for someone else's benefit!
Aaron was in a bad mood, dug a pit just enough to hold the clay tablet, about one arm's length long, and put the clay tablet inside.
After all, it's not for a coffin; there's no need to dig a big one.
Burying the soil, Aaron wiped away his sweat:
"Sigh——I don't know if Geryon can find this thing. Damn it, I don't feel the least bit sleepy tonight. I can't even tell him the location of the clay tablet in my dreams."
Aaron shook his head and turned to leave.
42,600 years later, the Glare of Makura was leaving the port of Mars as the Mechanical God Cult had completed the repairs on this Glory Queen-class warship.
The protomatter had to first reach the satellite Luna and then proceed to meet up with the Mars base, embarking on a journey to the front lines thousands of light years away.
It was infested with bugs, infested everywhere, damned bugs——
And there are traces of a large-scale activity of the Wordkeepers, whose purpose may be to replace the bound Primarchs who have been held captive for so long with their descent into reality.
Loar——
Geryon thought in his heart, the intelligence department of the Empire was convinced that Loar had been trapped by something.
That's why the Wordkeepers have become so active.
When Geryon donned the Armor of Destiny, he saw Cal recently somewhat quiet down and took the opportunity to tease him:
"It seems our actions have had some effect. The Emperor has played a joke on you."
"I thought you would spend years in the Holy Place without coming out, but I didn't expect you to come and bid me farewell yourself."
Cal snapped his fingers, "I'm here to keep you company on this trip."
"There's something new to be discovered. You are busy with your official duties, and there's only time to talk when you put on the armor before a campaign."
The servant's skull made a few ticking sounds, and several servants pulled a metal box closer, making a harsh hissing sound on the ground.
"The family of one of those unlucky kids sent me some ancient artifacts from the civilization of Terra as a token of their regret. As you know, possessing these ancient relics due to the national religion is considered a serious crime. We are unable to open this box without damaging its contents, but I think it may be useful to you."
"Perhaps it is the guidance of Omnissiah; you will find a way to open the box, which might be beneficial to your war."
The protomatter remained silent, waiting for Geryon to finish putting on the armor.
