Until all the fish are cooked, Anda stands up.

    The robes of the Thebians are somewhat Greek but more rustic than the Roman pleated garments.

    The robe hung over Anda's shoulders, its front a mix of dust from work and grease from the recent cooking.

    He retrieved a small knife, neatly slicing open the fish and removing the bones.

    Even the most skilled chefs in Makulag cannot achieve such perfection without destroying the texture of the fish.

    Setting the food for his son, Anda whispered:

    “Go and fetch Aaron. I'm not in a position to say much to him.”

    Malum respectfully took the plate, puzzledly asking:

    "Lord, you may want to go personally. I'm curious, is there some strange curse involved, making it difficult for you to converse with Aaron?"

    Anda looked up, gazing at the endless sky, calmly speaking out:

    "I'm not sure either; the battle with Horus, in the future, destroyed too much of my composition."

    Malum couldn't correct Anda's strange sentence order, which seemed to be a kind of residual effect.

    "And, anyway," Anda bowed his head, letting the supreme wisdom of humanity flow through his eyes:

    "Help me find the cause, see if it's the me from the future that influenced me, or if I've always been a bastard in Earda's mouth. Tell Core that I need to explore the limit of that ritual; I have to go to Egypt to make a necklace for Kirmann."

    Malum has exhausted the final exchange limit of that animal skin skirt.

    To relay back the critical information.

    "All right, tell that bastard kid that if he doesn't get up to eat, I'll kick him all the way to the Nile tomorrow!"

    Anda shouted loudly, slapping Malum's shoulder with a palm.

    Emperor, the Emperor's physical body has touched my body!

    Malum was engulfed in the most extreme elation, steadfastly fulfilling the master's request, and ran into the room.

    "Aaron, Aaron! It's time to eat. We'll leave early in the morning tomorrow for Egypt!"

    He swore that from now until his death, he would never allow any injury to this piece of skin!

    Aaron was woken up and looked at the fish on the plate. He was not surprised by the skill; rather, he seemed to take it all in stride.

    His father knows everything, but he doesn't teach it to himself, so he's not a proper father.

    He ate large bites of fish, occasionally wiping his mouth, passing a piece to Malum's hand and broodingly asking:

    "How did you turn into this? Did he do it? So, is my father really Zeus?"

    Malum nodded and said, "That's right."

    Father, the extreme warrior never lies, forgive me.

    Aaron's expression turned fiercely vindictive as he bit into the fish:

    "Oh, then am I a demigod or a god?"

    "Was my mother Earda Hera or just a poor mortal whom this Casanova bastard took a fancy to?"

    "I really want to beat him up, but I can't beat him."

    Malum's forehead was sweating. Do Asurans sweat?

    He didn't know, but he seemed to have returned to the brief life he had as a human before, experiencing what he once had.

    He hurriedly said:

    "The Earda lady is the mother of the archetype, your mother, and Hera."

    Never mind. It was the Emperor who ordered me to call him Zeus, so it's fine for Earda lady to be known as Hera.

    Aaron finished all the fish, looking out of the window at his father who was tidying up the fire, and then at his own body which was only slightly stronger than an ordinary person, feeling downcast.

    "He should have found me a Centaur teacher to teach me how to ride horses, shoot arrows, and fight on the battlefield, and how to defeat monsters!"

    "Like Hercules!"

    Malum was silent, Core had mentioned that in the future's state religion, the Emperor was God.

    And his sons were a complete contradiction to the monotheistic classical Greek mythology deities.

    He is a god, but not perfect, even causing trouble and being as base and cunning as humans.

    This was not the original son of the Emperor.

    Oh, by the way, it seems he is immune to all aspace corruption and has a much better physique, but aside from that, he is just an ordinary human in the eyes of an Asurman.

    He sighed regretfully:

    "I can teach you how to swing a sword, shoot arrows, and fight against enemies, Aaron. If you dream of Lord Kirmann, my father, and your younger brother— well, Lord will have twenty-one more sons in the future, known as the archetype."

    "Please tell him that Malum will live up to the name of the extreme warrior."

    He added, "You can rest assured that Earda lady remains their mother."

    He couldn't say more about the future, telling Aaron that he would have many younger brothers, and that was the limit.

    Aaron jumped off the bed, picked up the plate, and shook his head:

    "That's a good thing. It means that father and mother have reconciled. So the Kirmann in my dream, is my younger brother."

    "So the future Mount Olympus was threatened by demons? He was seeking his father's return in his dreams, this old thing must have run off to someplace to hide and laugh at his son."

    "Like those nobles who all claim to be enamored with his charm, only to tell a child on the road that they're looking for him. When the noblemen with their swords come looking for him, it's truly a tragedy that could be written in the epics of Homer."

    Malum furrowed his brow; it seems both father and son are indeed talkative.

    And they're not at all like their father, the great Robert Kirmann, who was clear in his logic and fluent in his speech.

    Got it, the Emperor's communication skills are not strong, he only has one close friend, Magaadu, and his marital relationship/parent-child relationship are not harmonious.

    Such an Emperor is increasingly resembling a person.

    "Alright, I'm full. I want to rest. This bed is big, you can squeeze on it without worrying."

    Aaron didn't bother to call for his father to rest. He climbed up to the bedside, pulling the woven blanket and falling asleep.

    He's been getting more and more tired lately.

    "Uh——huh!"

    The eldest son yawned and fell asleep.

    Malum dared not disturb him. According to the known information, it was father Kirmann who communicated with the eldest son in his dreams.

    The eldest son of the Emperor fell back asleep, the peaceful and serene soul sea crossing time's limitations.

    Eight gazes surrounded from all directions, focusing on this sacred soul.

    Finally, the consciousness of the eldest son touched a planet in a timeline, descending onto a barren land.

    Looking around, in the distance, there is a looming shadow of a city, even taller than the Parthenon temple of Athena.

    And only here was a space left empty, from all directions, towering stone columns extended, above which burned fierce flames.

    Many monks and priests were making their pilgrimage towards the central altar of all the flames, kneeling with every step.

    He dreamed again, but this time, his thoughts and cognition were clearer, as if he was really here.

    Aaron looked at the center of the flames, at the front of the queue, a bald head, shining bald head was being held up by a giant, wearing a long robe similar to that of a monk or priest.

    The giant was almost as tall as Kirmann, and Malum's armor, in the presence of the giant, seemed like that of a child.

    "Holy Fire! Guide me towards the path of higher existence!"

    The giant roared, kneeling down, reciting hymns that even the gods would blush at:

    "The one true god, our father!"

    "May we return to Your embrace, kiss Your ankles, and touch——"

    【Subsequent text is too erotic, blocked by the Emperor's power...】

    Aaron shook his head, slightly affected by the intense heat of the flames, thinking that this person must also be one of his younger brothers.

    Just as the father and mother clearly have hair, and Kirmann has short hair, why do both himself and the giant in front of him have bald heads?

    He walked forward, touching his bald head, preparing to meet his brother and gathering courage to shout:

    "Hi! My brother!"

    He couldn't wait to tell his brother that his father was a bastard who didn't care about his sons.

    You should punch him instead of trying to kiss his feet.