novel-bin Chapter 1 The Kingdom Will Eventually Fall
Chapter 1 The Kingdom Will Eventually Fall
The Trojan palace atop the Acropolis was bathed in the golden-red sunlight of the morning in Asia Minor.
When the wind, carrying the salty scent of olive wood, sweeps across the walls of the city built of plastic steel and limestone from the Dardanelles Strait, past the ancient wedge-shaped patterns and war god totems carved on the battlements, past the countless towering marble towers, and past the giant wooden statue of Athena made of olive wood that symbolizes the eternal glory of Troy.
Hector stood there quietly before the towering wooden statue of Athena, his thoughts turbulent like the waves of the Dardanelles, unable to find peace for a long time.
"The kingdom fell, brothers turned against each other, and the legion was reduced to ashes..."
In the eighteen years since he transmigrated, even when facing the alien expeditionary fleet called the Sword of Agamemnon, which claimed to be gods, he had never felt as helpless and fearful as he had in the past two weeks.
Whenever Hector closes his eyes, he dreams of a group of giants in white and gold armor passing through his transparent body, slaughtering another group of warriors in silver armor.
The soldiers either knelt on the spot, took off their helmets, placed their weapons in front of them, and waited devoutly for the bombs to explode on them.
He could either pick up a powered spear, take out a short sword and a slingshot, and stand in front of the man sitting high on the throne, whose face was indistinct, but Hector was absolutely certain that it was himself.
At the same time, he could always hear a few sharp, piercing low whistles, as if mocking his destined fate.
Why...?
Buzz————
When the ancient, somber horns sounded from the distance of Troy.
Hector composed himself, and an impeccable smile appeared on the Crown Prince's face.
Light footsteps sounded behind him, and even though the person didn't speak, Hector recognized him from the sound and called out his name with a smile:
Paris.
His brother in this life, they both share the blood of the old King Priam.
"Brother!" Paris's voice boomed, the young man's smugness carried on the wind.
He quickly bypassed the accompanying guards, ran to Hector's side, and grabbed his forearm from under his white robe.
"Do you hear that, brother? The horns have sounded! After today, you will take up your father's spear and become the monarch of the Kingdom of Troy, the undisputed king of all Ilios!"
Paris eagerly grabbed Hector's forearm, as if he himself were the one about to become the king of the realm of Ilios, which he spoke of.
"My father asked me to take you back. You must want to see his expression," Paris said with a smile.
Hector let Paris lead him, and they walked across the plains, through wheat fields and farms, avoiding the fanatical crowds and the reverent gazes of the kingdom's legitimate people.
Listening to the camel bells of the caravan, and to the relaxed laughter of every person, every servant, and every guard, they climbed step by step the towering steps of the Trojan palace.
Standing in the middle of the steps, Hector felt a sense of wonder and looked back. Above the starry sea were ships painted silver-white and decorated with the kingdom's distinctive features, their white sails dotting the beautiful starry sky.
Everyone in the realm of Ilios seemed to be celebrating the upcoming grand ceremony.
Hector stared blankly until—
—The kingdom will eventually perish!
A sharp, bird-like murmur rang out from the center of Hector's skull, and the magnificent scene before him instantly turned into a sea of fire.
The sky began to turn gray, laughter turned into mournful howls and curses, and the hawkers' cries became a series of exploding bombs.
The silver-white warship plummeted from the tracks and crashed to the ground, green smoke rising above the earth.
"Brother! What's wrong, brother!" Paris cried out in alarm as he caught Hector, who suddenly staggered and nearly fell.
He snapped at the stunned servant beside him, "Fool! Go find the High Priest now!"
"No need... Paris..." Hector leaned against Paris without reservation, closing his eyes to prevent anyone from seeing his loss of control and the terror in his eyes.
Hector rested his face on his brother Paris's shoulder until the grotesque twitching on his face subsided.
"Pa...Pa..."
Hector shut his mouth, finding that his voice did not regain its composure as quickly as his face.
His words came out as if his trachea had been cut open, broken and weak.
Nine seconds later, Hector smiled and raised his head: "I'm fine, Paris."
"I was just too excited."
Paris looked up at Hector, his sky-blue eyes, like the Trojan sky, filled with worry.
He spent fourteen years with his brother, and his martial arts skills and artistic tastes were taught to him by Hector.
How could he not notice his brother's incredibly forced smile?
"Brother..."
Hector waved his hand: "It's alright, Paris, it's alright."
The mocking murmurs in his head had long since vanished. Hector stood on the steps, reaching out to stop the guards who were trying to run down.
Looking at the worried and vigilant servants who had drawn their weapons, he raised his hand high.
"I'm fine!"
"Hail to the future ruler of Troy!"
"Long live!"
Paris was the first to respond, raising his arms in a shout.
At his call, the servants instantly cast aside their worries; some knelt on one knee, some placed one hand on their chest, and some raised their arms fervently, shouting at Hector:
"Long live!"
"Long live!"
Amid cheers, Hector gazed at the faces that looked up to him. Even though the cloud of sorrow in his heart had not yet dissipated, Hector found the courage and confidence to face the future.
There's nothing to be afraid of, Hector told himself.
Stepping onto the steps, one arrives at the gates of the Trojan Palace.
The marble floor was polished to a mirror shine, and stone statues of the first kings of Troy stood on either side.
His face was dignified, his eyes were downcast, one hand held a magnificent laurel wreath, while the other held a long sword hanging low, the sword only slightly taller than the wreath.
It symbolizes a well-known story from the planet Troy: the Sword of Damocles.
"High Priestess Cassandra." Hector crossed his arms and bowed politely to the young woman in front of him, who was wearing a dark robe.
The combination of clothes soaked in olive oil and the unique scent of a young girl is enough to calm a restless heart.
Paris was reluctant to speak to her, but he and his brother still performed a standard curtsy to the woman before them.
Cassandra remained calm, her hands folded in front of her beneath her robes, and bowed in return: "Crown Prince Hector, the King has been waiting for you for a long time."
As she spoke, she stepped aside, gesturing for Hector to go first.
From the moment they entered the palace, even Paris, who was closest to Hector, strictly adhered to the rules of etiquette. His smile vanished, replaced by solemnity, as he followed closely behind Hector and Cassandra, trailing them by at least two steps.
Cassandra held up a round lampshade made of olive wood, which, when the flame was not lit, looked like a crudely made birdcage.
But according to Cassandra herself, this was a sacred object given to her by an all-knowing and all-powerful god whom she had invoked.
"I have heard that every Trojan king who ascends the throne is required to receive a prophecy from the high priest during the celebration. Is this true?" Hector asked.
Cassandra did not respond immediately. She remained silent for a moment, then finally nodded and said, "Yes, Crown Prince Hector."
There was no joy in his voice at the prospect of gaining power, nor any fear in the face of the underlying discontent in Hector's words.
Her voice was ordinary, yet tinged with a sigh.
"The Church of Athena contains the edicts of every Trojan king at the time of his coronation. These are the most confidential archives, preserved intact in the deepest part of the church."
Hector became somewhat interested and casually asked, "May I know what the prophecy my father received was, and whether it came true?"
Cassandra stopped in her tracks, her eyes filled with complex emotions.
Hearing the footsteps behind him stop, Hector turned his head and asked, "What's wrong?"
"If this involves secrets and taboos, High Priest, I will not force you to answer my questions."
"No." Kassandra endured Paris's unfriendly gaze and murmured softly, "The Church of Athena will never hide anything from the royal family. To the royal family, the Church of Athena is like a lamb stripped of its wool; there are no secrets."
"King Priam's prophecy has been fulfilled."
As she spoke, her gaze became increasingly complex and devout.
She lowered her head, her robe covering the top of her head.
"The Son of God has come to his side."
"The kingdom of Troy also prospered because of the arrival of the Son of God."
but······
In the book, the last line appeared in Cassandra's memory.
The above contains a quote from twenty years ago:
The Son of God was destined to depart when he was at his most glorious and the Trojan people loved him most, and the kingdom would also face its inevitable destruction because of the departure of the Son of God.