Chapter 21: My Father Is No Slave, Unless the Price Is Right

It appeared once again—my father’s unique charm! And this time, it was not even limited by gender!

Aaron couldn't help but gasp, though he managed to cover his mouth just in time to silence the sound. As Dalet’s tone shifted into something entirely removed from a typical man, his eyelids painted black and fluttering, his tongue nearly stretching out to lick Anda, Aaron felt a vague sense of excitement. It wasn't born of any strange penchant, but rather the feeling that his previous hypothesis had finally been confirmed.

Yet, how was he supposed to rescue his father from the clutches of this perverted, bald, sex-crazed priest? He shuffled closer to his father and whispered, "Can you control your ability at will?"

He was terrified that this wasn't merely a case of the priest being bewitched, but rather his father’s own wishful thinking—that his father was intentionally playing a dangerous game and could toggle the ability on and off. If that were the case, Aaron felt he wouldn't be able to face his mother; he would believe even more firmly that her decision to leave his father was the right one.

Anda looked at his son as if he were an idiot, feeling a pang of heartache for the future intelligence of his own lineage. "Fool. If I could control this ability, would I be reduced to the point of begging for food? Wouldn't I just ask directly who the devil inciting this war is?"

Dalet elegantly turned his fingers to touch his own lips. "Spare me the Northern tongue, spies. There were whispers of this last year. Rome—that nation built by the children of the she-wolf—is poised and ready to tear off a piece of flesh for its feast."

"It seems your spy training is subpar; you are as annoying as squawking sparrows. I will give you a chance: convert to our nation and become my slaves. Otherwise, your entrails will be removed and offered to Sekhmet."

The priest’s guards took a step forward. They wielded specially crafted skinning scimitars, refined versions of the standard Salkar blades carried by regular soldiers, designed to keep the human skin of the chest and abdomen intact.

"Sekhmet... that is the third time I have heard that name. What is it? Your god?" Aaron switched back to the Theban tongue; Thebes, in a strict sense, was part of Upper Egypt.

He intended to stall for time. His father had said they must try to lure out the 'demon of war' or gather information. They needed to understand which background identity would be most effective at igniting war and stoking conflict. If things went smoothly, they should be able to gather intel without sacrificing Anda to lie on this bald priest’s bed and whisper secrets into his ear. That was something neither father nor son could accept. Oh, and as for Malum—well, thanks to Guilliman’s upbringing, the obedient Ultramarine couldn't even fathom such a scenario.

"Outlander, before you act as spies, do you not even understand the customs of our land?" Dalet burst into laughter, his voice sounding like that of a castrated singer, preserved to maintain a beautiful vocal range after the onset of puberty.

He sat up from the couch and proclaimed loudly, "Sekhmet, the lion-headed goddess! War rises from you! Plague rises from you! Fire rises from you! Only the sweet vintage of blood can appease your wrath!"

Malum finally understood the parts that made sense. With Astartes vocal control, he could precisely adjust the frequency and direction of his voice. He whispered, "It sounds like a local deity. War brings plague, which then requires fire to cleanse the battlefield. Honestly, in all my years of campaigning, such a civilizational god is rare; usually, people don't link war and plague so directly."

Anda remarked casually, "Unless it is early civilization, where everything is still chaotic, and beliefs often bleed into one another." The old man looked at Aaron, signaling him to keep asking questions; perhaps they could find the mastermind behind the war right here.

Aaron coughed a few times, cursing inwardly. Whenever the old man hit a wall, he became completely resistant to social interaction, as if he had lost all ability to communicate. The burden of this family rested entirely on his shoulders!

He softened his tone as much as possible and continued, "So, has there been a prophecy from Sekhmet? We are not spies, but travelers from Thebes. The Roman army has already arrived there, and we are merely fleeing the chaos."

Dalet frowned, spreading his arms wide and glancing left and right. His attendants knelt on either side of him, draping him in sheer veils. "How clumsy. You cannot even invent a plausible excuse. Or is this a Roman trick, sending a few fools ahead to make us lower our guard?"

"Let me be clear: we have long known that Rome intends to move against Thebes and that they will send envoys to tell us so. Rome only needs Thebes as a commercial hub for trade with our nation, to make that place more prosperous. And so, step by step—"

Dalet slowly descended the steps, his veils grazing the floor with a sound like snake scales scraping against stone. "Step by step, they gnaw away at our borders."

He had already bypassed Aaron and arrived before the silent Anda. With a slight flick of his delicately raised finger, he could tilt Anda’s chin.

Aaron sighed helplessly, turning quickly to ask a question to draw Dalet’s attention away. "So you intend to fight back? You want to take Thebes back?"

Dalet turned, looking puzzled. "Naturally. Boy, do not try to catch my attention with such simple-minded remarks!" He adopted a tone of righteous indignation. "I am not interested in the likes of you. Compared to him," Dalet turned to point at Anda, "you truly expose every flaw of the human form!"

"Do not delude yourself into thinking you can trade on my attention for a chance to survive! Guards! Drag this insolent brat away!"

At this point, Anda could no longer remain indifferent. He hurriedly shouted, "Wait! That... that is my son."

Dalet froze instantly, his hands clasped together in front of him. A meaningful smile played on his face, and his voice was thick with complex emotions. "Oh~"

"I understand, I understand. You Romans call this relationship father and son to avoid the scrutiny of the world."

"Very well, I shall spare him. I am not a warmonger myself; I prefer to follow the will of the gods and contemplate life."

Aaron detected a sinister undertone in Dalet’s voice. This old man—once he knew they were father and son, he was clearly even more excited! He even had to adopt a disciplined, prayerful posture to keep his body from trembling. Damn it, why did his own powers of observation have to be so sharp?

"Let us do this. I do not believe Roman spies would be so naive and ill-prepared. Your name?" Dalet looked at Aaron.

"Aaron Will. What... what are you going to do?"

Dalet covered his mouth and chuckled. "Nothing much. I shall 'purchase' your father. And you two shall serve as my personal bodyguards. Another priest will arrive the day after tomorrow—the Mad Crocodile, Uster. He is a violent fellow, obsessed with war and plunder. I must settle the procedural matters before he arrives, lest you fall into his hands."

"Oh, damn it, I won't be able to spend time with you these next few days. I must focus on preparing for the ritual so I don't lose face before Uster. He is the priest of Sekhmet; every time we meet, he insists on having his attendants duel mine."

"I have no desire to see my true attendants get hurt. If you survive, consider it the blessing of Ra. If you die, it is a fitting end. At least your father will not face death."

Well, it seemed they had found their potential target.

Dalet gazed at Anda with lingering, soulful affection, his hands hovering as if longing to touch him but refraining. Aaron felt an uncontrollable urge to retch; that look was truly revolting.

"Wait... one moment!"

Dalet’s expression turned cold. "Hmm? Do you wish to refuse this only chance to live?"

Anda looked up, his eyes filled with emotion—what a good son!

"No... give me the money first. Currency that can be used throughout all of Egypt, so we don't have to exchange it."

Anda clenched his fists. *You unfilial brat!*