Chapter 51 First place? I have no idea, I just took a nap and woke up to find I was first

White Scar vibrated with a low, thunder-like rumble. The rippling of the muscles on its neck was clearly visible, and the bristling fur around it genuinely crackled with electrical currents.

Yet Aaron, fast asleep and half-conscious, remained entirely oblivious to all of this.

He only felt as though the donkey he was riding had transformed into an indescribably roiling thundercloud, placing him high in the firmament as if he were mastering the sky itself.

Was this one of the domains of divine authority that his father could experience when acting as Zeus?

Yet, why was there the sound of a child throwing a tantrum and sobbing lingering in his ears? It sounded just like the crying when the favorite wooden toy of the neighbor's child in Thebes was snatched away.

Meanwhile, inside the arena, the panicked crowd had largely dropped to their knees in trembling awe, invoking the names of Ra and Mahes.

Without a doubt, this was the manifestation of Mahes descending in person, taking the form of a terrifying, ferocious wild horse to join the competition!

In this era, those seemingly impossible mythological stories could be passed down through generations not merely because of oral traditions or occasional exaggerations that gradually evolved over time.

It was because, in this era, people still had the opportunity to witness wonders that defied reason with their own eyes.

(Annda: Don't look at me, this was caused by my rebellious son. Once I finish dealing with these matters, I'm going to find a quiet place to hole up.)

The visual impact of this shock was so profound that even the flag-bearer responsible for signaling the start of the race forgot to wave his banner.

It was only at the prompt of a servant from the rear temple that he snapped back to reality.

Now that the gods had descended, they had to grant Mahes a path to victory.

Otherwise, this god of wind, thunder, and darkness would bring the darkness of daytime while accompanying Ra as he sailed the solar chariot across the sky.

Whoosh—

The flag signaling the start of the race swept through the air. White Scar's intelligence allowed it to comprehend the actions of these mortals; it disdained even to gallop, merely taking a slow, leisurely step forward.

Only then did the so-called fine steeds behind it dare to follow, cringing submissively, not daring to advance another step.

The local temple servants were exceedingly polite, immediately beginning to recite prayers celebrating the god Mahes while laying it on thick with flattery.

There was good reason why temple servants were considered the most devout; religious people generally had a screw loose.

And so, after puttering around sluggishly for a few minutes, White Scar strolled in a circle as if inspecting its own domain, before finally swishing its tail and heading back toward the tunnel.

The curtain behind dropped once more.

By this time, the horses of the other riders could no longer maintain their footing, collapsing onto the ground with foam dripping from their mouths.

At that moment, no masters came to comfort them, because most of the masters had fainted themselves, while many others had already bolted straight toward the temple to offer sacrifices to Mahes.

Even the main event of the chariot races—the four-horse chariot competition—was completely ignored by everyone.

Backstage at the arena, Aaron walked out slowly, riding his donkey and yawning. He dismounted, shed his garments, and washed his face.

"Hah—I think I fell asleep, but I successfully finished the lap, haha. By the way, why are you all looking at me like that?"

Aaron splashed clear water onto his face, noticing the very strange looks the people around him were casting his way.

It felt very similar to the gaze people directed at his father, yet with a subtle difference, devoid of those extraneous emotions.

It was pure, unadulterated awe.

Jordwen stared at the snorting, aging donkey, his eyes still filled with utter disbelief.

Where was that ferocious, violent beast from a moment ago, one that dwarfed an elephant in size!

How had it suddenly reverted to an old donkey with unkempt fur!

Yet Jordwen no longer dared to show any disrespect toward the old donkey, for this was a creature truly possessed by the genuine god Mahes.

He could only endure as Old Fifth brushed its muzzle against his clothing, leaving behind a few yellowish fragments of grass.

"Aaron, you... you won first place, and though I failed to make enough profit, we merchants must still honor our word—provided we don't deal with those fanatical Hebrew merchants, that is."

"Sigh, I cannot disgrace the honor of Horus."

"That donkey of yours suddenly transformed into a towering, magnificent steed, marked by a natural lightning-shaped scar on its neck. When it entered the arena, it damn near scared the other horses into pissing themselves."

Jordwen retrieved the remaining twenty debens of copper coins and placed them into Aaron's bewildered hands.

"First place? I—I just took a nap, and now I'm first!"

"Old Fifth, did you see that? We won first place! I never expected you to outrun those young, fine steeds!"

Excitedly, Aaron threw his arms around Old Fifth's neck and rubbed his cheek against it.

Strange, why was there a familiar scent? It smelled like fresh grass mixed with damp earth, tinged with a hint of horse manure.

The fur on Old Fifth's flank was compressed, as if something heavy had leaned against it.

Could it truly be that a god had descended?

Aaron pocketed the coins and grew vigilant. Taking advantage of the crowd's preoccupation with mass prayer, and too rushed to converse further with Jordwen, he hurriedly tugged Old Fifth back toward home.

He had already changed out of his clothes, and Old Fifth no longer looked anything like the magnificent steed Jordwen had described; the lightning mark on its neck was still just something he had painted on.

Leaving now while muddying the waters was the best course of action.

Aaron hurriedly led Old Fifth away, blending seamlessly into the throngs of people.

He was beginning to understand why his father was so slovenly and preferred to remain inconspicuous.

Pulling on Old Fifth's reins, he marched swiftly toward his dwelling, his mind still mulling over Jordwen's words.

"A towering steed with white scars."

"Oh no, could it be that after falling asleep just now, I was swapped over to Chagatai's side, trading places with that Chogorian wild horse named White Scar?!"

Aaron stopped abruptly in his tracks, dropping into a horse stance right there on the road to test the expansion of his leg muscles.

Soon, a familiar sensation surfaced—he found it!

For a period of time just now, after falling asleep, he had been engaged in that very strange riding posture!

So much so that his muscles still retained the memory of that state.

"Old Fifth, oh Old Fifth," Aaron muttered as he blankly led the donkey home, "I think I know where that crying child's voice came from earlier."

"Pray it wasn't Chagatai taking White Scar back to his tribe and accidentally dragging you along instead, because if so, we're doomed!"

Old Fifth stretched out its tongue and licked Aaron's face, unsure whether it was trying to comfort him or if the donkey simply enjoyed amusing itself that way.

Regardless, rather than worrying about the commotion outside caused by the so-called "God Mahes" miracle, Aaron was now far more anxious about how he would face Chagatai the next time they met in a dream.

An older brother snatching away his younger brother's beloved toy?

That sounded so inappropriate! Especially since the first time he met Chagatai, he had put on a mystic act and failed to clearly explain his identity.

It's over, completely over. He needed to prepare a special guide on how to appease a younger brother, lest he leave psychological scars on the four-year-old Chagatai.

Children don't really remember things that happened when they were toddlers—do they?