The white scar vibrated with a thunderous low roar, the muscle surges on its neck visible to the naked eye, and the hair around it stood on end as if actual electricity were passing through them.

    And all of this was happening without Aaron, who was drowsily sleeping, being aware of it.

    He only felt as though the donkey he was riding had transformed into an indescribable rolling thundercloud, and he was riding atop it, soaring to the heavens as if commanding the sky.

    Is this one of the powers felt by the father when he was Zeus?

    Just, why is there still a childish wailing sound in my ear, like the sound of a favorite wooden horse toy being taken away by the neighbors' children when I lived in Thebes?

    At this moment in the arena, most of the panicking crowd had tremblingly fallen to their knees and called out the names of Ra and Makhos.

    There is no doubt that this is an manifestation of Makhos' own descent, transforming into a terrifying wild stallion beast to join the contest!

    In this era, the seemingly impossible mythological stories have been passed down through generations not only because people have been passing them on, but also because someone has performed exceptionally well, which eventually evolved into something different.

    More importantly, it's because in this era, people have the chance to witness those incredible and beyond reasonable spectacles.

    (Anda: Don't look at me; it's my rebellious son who did this. I'll just find a place to hibernate after I'm done with these things.)

    The impact of this shock was so great that the flag bearer forgot to wave the flag to signal the start of the race.

    It was only after the servants of the temple behind him signaled that he remembered.

    Now, with the gods descending, it is imperative to secure a path to victory for Makhos.

    Otherwise, this god of wind and thunder, as well as the god of darkness, will bring darkness to the day when he accompanies Ra on his solar chariot tour.

    Hoo hoo

    The flag that signals the start of the race was waved, and the scar's wisdom could understand these people's actions. It even deigned not to run, but instead casually took a step forward.

    Those behind, so-called divine steeds, only dare to follow behind, humbly bowing their heads, not daring to take another step forward.

    The servants of the local temple were indeed too polite, starting to recite prayers celebrating the god Makhos right there and then, blowing a massive kiss.

    That's why you always say that the servants of the gods are the most devout; religious people usually have a bit of crazy in them.

    So, after a few minutes of dragging their feet, the white scar walked around like it was patrolling its own territory before shaking its tail and heading back inside the tunnel.

    The curtain behind them fell back down.

    At this point, the horses of the other riders could no longer maintain their standing positions and fell to their knees, foaming at the mouth.

    At this moment, there are no owners to comfort them, as most of the owners have fainted and many people are rushing towards the temple to worship Makhos.

    Even the subsequent chariot racing, the main event of the competition, was no longer of concern.

    From the back of the arena, Aaron, riding the donkey and yawning, slowly emerged. He dismounted, removed his attire, and washed his face.

    "Hahaha - I seem to have nodded off, but I successfully completed one lap. Hahaha. Oh, right, why are you looking at me like that?"

    Aaron wiped water on his face and noticed that the people around him looked at him strangely.

    It was similar to the look people gave their fathers, but there was a distinction; it didn't contain any unnecessary emotions.

    It was just a pure sense of reverence.

    Joe Daiwen's eyes surveyed the old donkey that was snorting and groaning, still looking incredulous.

    Just now, there was that ferocious beast as large as an elephant!

    How did it become a disheveled old donkey now?

    However, Joe Daiwen now dare not disrespect the old donkey, for this is a creature that Makhos, the true deity, has possessed.

    He had to endure Old Five rubbing its mouth against his clothes, with some brownish straw fragments falling down.

    "Aaron, you got first place, but I didn't make enough money. However, as merchants, we still need to maintain our integrity. As long as we don't deal with those Jews who are particularly crazy, it will be fine."

    "Ah, I cannot tarnish the reputation of Horus."

    "Your donkey suddenly transformed into an enormous and magnificent horse, with a natural lightning scar on its neck. When it appeared on the stage, it almost scared the other horses to urinate."

    Joe Daiwen took the remaining twenty deben of copper and placed it in Aaron's hands, who was bewildered.

    "First place? I just nodded off and now I'm first?"

    "Old Five, did you see? We got first place! I didn't expect you to be able to outrun those young and handsome horses!"

    Aaron excitedly wrapped his arms around Old Five's neck and rubbed his face against it.

    It was strange, there was a familiar scent, like fresh grass mixed with moist earth, and a bit of horse manure.

    Old Five's fur on the side was even more compressed, as if something had leaned on it.

    Does that mean that a god has really descended?

    Aaron put the money away and became alert. Seizing the opportunity while most people were gathered together in prayer, he didn't dare to talk with Joe Daiwen for too long and hurriedly led Old Five back.

    Aaron had changed into his clothes, and Old Five wasn't as magnificent as Joe Daiwen described. The lightning mark on its neck was still painted on.

    It's the perfect time to leave unnoticed.

    Aaron hurriedly led Old Five back and blended into the crowd.

    Aaron began to understand why his father was so disheveled, hoping to avoid attracting attention.

    Aaron grabbed Old Five's reins and quickly headed back to his residence, still pondering over Joe Daiwen's words.

    "A tall horse with a white scar."

    "Oh no, I'm not sure if you were switched with another horse called White Scar during your nap. Could it be that you were exchanged for the other side of the Chaharqhai?"

    Aaron quickly stopped and planted his feet on the ground, feeling the stretching posture of his legs.

    Quickly, a familiar sensation emerged, and there it was!

    Just for a while after he nodded off, he had this strange riding posture!

    So much so that the muscles still remember that state.

    "Oh, Old Five, Old Five," Aaron led the donkey back home in a daze, "I think I know where the child's crying sound I just heard came from."

    "But don't let it be that Chaharqhai brought White Scar back to his tribe and took you with him. That would be disastrous!"

    Old Five licked Aaron's face with its tongue, not knowing whether it was an attempt to comfort him or just the donkey's habit of taking pleasure in such a manner.

    In any case, Aaron was more worried about how to face Chaharqhai after dreaming of him, rather than the commotion outside due to the supposed "Makhos god" miracle.

    Could it be that the older brother took away the younger brother's favorite toy?

    It sounded so unprofessional! Especially the first time he saw Chaharqhai, he pretended to be a god and didn't directly reveal his identity.

    Oh no, I'm in trouble now. I have to prepare a special strategy to pacify the younger brother, so as not to leave any psychological scars on Chaharqhai, who is only four years old.

    Children don't remember things too well during their childhood, right?