The attendants ceased attending to Ando's needs until a bottle of blood was poured into his mouth.

    These attendants are under the jurisdiction of the Daleite priests, and thus believe that blood will calm Sehemhet's mood.

    Ando drove those people away, as if to get rid of a servant who had worked diligently and faithfully for several years, showing no mercy.

    The attendants had to leave reluctantly, with tears in their eyes, looking back three times for every step.

    "Father, they are so respectful to you, and after you finish enjoying them, they treat you like this?"

    Aaron was very dissatisfied. He had just returned, tired and covered in sand.

    Ando glanced at his son and instinctively covered his hair, warning:

    "What did you bring to the future?"

    Aaron put away his tools and lay back in his chair:

    "No, I didn't. I didn't even fall asleep, how could I have dreams? I just buried a clay tablet. When I was inscribing it, you were leaning your head on some girl's lap, waiting to be fed grapes."

    "I am worried that if Marum goes out now, it might not be easy for him to communicate with others. Why don't you worry at all?"

    Ando adjusted his sleeping posture, lying on his back:

    "The people of Makurag are experts in negotiation and debate. While they may not be as exceptional as the Alfaris, they are more than capable of handling routine intelligence gathering tasks."

    Aaron scratched his head and said, "I don't understand these new words, Alfaris?"

    Ando's tone was a bit frayed: "My memories are all jumbled. Don't ask me why I know this name. You all must have caused a big mess in the future, so now I'm not even sure which memories I should use for now."

    "By the way, get out of the way, give me that lounge chair."

    Anda stood up, picked up her son, and threw him aside to the side:

    "This recliner is more comfortable. You can find your own place to rest. After midnight, Marum will return. Remember to meet him."

    "Huh—What a busy day today, I'm so tired."

    Anda stretched her lazy muscles, closed her eyes contentedly and fell asleep, even without looking at her son once.

    Aaron grew restless, whispering to his father's ear:

    "Are you not concerned about the battle I'm about to face? The enemy enjoys beheading his opponents and has even killed a crocodile independently."

    "If my head were to be twisted off and thrown in front of you, would you sneer at the bald priest's bed?"

    Anda turned her back, muttering:

    "Your brothers could kill fierce beasts with their bare hands from the moment they were born. As their brother, dealing with a mere human is no big deal. There's no need to worry. If that's not enough, there's Marum; just have him lead the way."

    "That's exactly where his abilities shine."

    Aaron gritted his teeth and repeated:

    "Put it to good use?"

    "Listen to that, how cold and calculating. You seem to treat everyone as tools just for their usefulness."

    Anda had already snored off to sleep, and no matter how much Aaron called out to her, she wouldn't respond.

    Well, in these times, with an unreliable father, one has to rely on oneself.

    Aaron stood up and spat on his father harshly.

    Then he searched through his luggage and found the wooden sword, which he had prepared as a prop for a performance in Thebes one year, only for the old man to be sick from eating something bad on that day, vomiting and diarrhea, spitting out things like "Motalian, worthless creature, Motalian".

    After he recovered, the performance was already over.

    Fortunately, the skills he had accumulated during the rehearsals were still there, and he knew how to defend against an enemy's attack.

    To distinguish between the blades of an axe and a longsword and adjust their angles to reduce wear.

    Or, how to grip the blade of a sword with bare hands and touch it in a way to disarm the opponent.

    However, these are just rehearsals where his peers demonstrate one move at a time.

    I wish I had someone to teach me how to fight.

    Thinking about it, Aaron suddenly felt sleepy.

    His eyelids began to fight, and he dropped the sword in his hand, staggering into the tent and finding a comfortable position to lie down.

    "Father, one day I'll beat you so badly that you'll be lying on the ground, just like Hercules defeated you at the Olympic Games in Olympus."

    He could no longer resist the fatigue and fell asleep completely.

    In his dream, a vast expanse of grasslands stretched infinitely, spreading out into infinity.

    In his hands, he held a wooden sword and a round shield that he had never possessed.

    The shield had a blue background with white unconnected round rings on it, likely because of Marum.

    He heard the neighing of a horse, a magnificent steed that he had never seen before, almost as large as Marum's guards in heaven, was gently pulling on the bit in its mouth to indicate its master to move forward.

    The owner of the majestic horse was a tall "child" with his upper body bare, wearing braids, who wore a broadsword at his waist and some ropes woven together.

    "Are you the legendary undead? When the grassland is misty and the adults say that the undead will appear, those are bones of people who couldn't be cremated, waiting for passersby to come and requesting a new battle to bring about death once again."

    The child's face was still youthful, but his body was already a head taller than him, speaking words with a rapid rhythm but remarkably clear.

    Finally, not a baldhead!

    When Aaron saw him for the first time, he knew it was his brother, only younger than when he met Lojar and Kiliman.

    In fact, this brother was probably not even a child, just in the stage of growing up.

    Aaron looked at the ground below, and indeed, he still had no shadow.

    Only then did he raise his head and look at the child, pretending to be mysterious:

    "Go away, let the adult warriors come here. You're still a child."

    The child shook his head, not fearing this "ghost," and continued to lead his mount forward:

    "Although I am only four years old, according to the tradition of Chakoris, when I catch a wild Chakoris war horse alone, I will be able to participate in the adult ceremony of becoming a warrior and obtaining the qualifications for looting, rather than as an ordinary person without the right to hold a sword."

    "Undead, it's time for you to retreat."

    The child tugged at his warhorse, riding it away, but he did not ride it, instead walking at a slow pace.

    It seems like he is saving his energy for the upcoming battle.

    Aaron had to turn around and follow, rarely having a younger brother he didn't have to look up to, he asked:

    "I am Aaron Wil, what is your name?"

    "Khaqtai," the young Khaqtai replied calmly, "I didn't attack you first because I didn't feel hostility from you. Otherwise, you would have been my seventeenth enemy to be decapitated on my journey. Stay away."

    Alright, apart from Kiliman, who knew his identity from the start, the other brothers are all initially cautious of me due to the environment they are in.

    That's good, it saves me from worrying about my brothers being taken advantage of by others.

    Aaron did not stand far away, but instead pretended to pray like Lojar, with hands clasped together and said:

    "Khaqtai, I am just a practicing monk," he said, his bald head glistening, "As far as I know, taming a horse is not an individual effort but requires continuous breeding and domestication to preserve the stable parts of a population."

    "Training wild beasts alone is a deed of heroes in mythology and legends."

    The horses of Chakoris are truly remarkable, and they could even match up with the full-bodied form of Marum in terms of riding, without being too out of proportion.

    It's just that my brothers will grow taller in the future, and indeed, a more suitable one will be needed.

    Khaqtai raised his eyebrows slightly, coldly saying, "The warriors of Bai Scar are all heroes. I heard— "

    "Get away!"

    His ears perked up, and he rested his arm on the shoulder of the horse next to him, as if merging with his own mount into a single entity, the muscles connected, ready to spring into action at any moment.

    DDDDDD-DDDDD!

    "That's the galloping hooves of the wild Chakoris horses."