Miss Hebe is Slaughtering Her Way Out of the Lostbelt!

Hebe thought this custom might have evolved into the Easter eggs of later generations. As for the tradition of "egg tapping," she did not think it had anything to do with Cathay's "summer solstice egg contest." The world was so vast that similar folk customs developing independently was perfectly reasonable.

On the eve of the Shemu Festival, before Hebe had gone to bed, Nitocris arrived carrying a basket filled with eggs and salted fish.

Hebe took the basket and looked inside. Every egg was plump and full, though none had been painted.

"From selecting the eggs to painting them, every step requires patience. Ready-made painted eggs simply won't do."

Nitocris naturally sat down beside the low bed, pressing close to Hebe.

She came by every day throughout the year, and Hebe had long grown used to it.

The female Pharaoh picked up an egg, her eyes curving with a smile. She dipped a finger into the paint and smeared it across the shell, tracing a circular outline.

Hebe glanced at what she was doing and imitated her, dipping her hand into the paint and smearing it onto an egg. She wanted to paint a nice pattern, but her head was full of half-formed ideas, leaving the design in her hand a complete mess. Instead, she painted it into a pitch-black lump.

"Uh..."

Hebe looked at the egg in Nitocris's hand, painted with an ankh, then at the chaotic, stupid thing in her own hand. She quietly nudged it deeper into the basket and picked up another egg.

She lifted her finger, only to hesitate again over what to paint. In that moment of indecision, another drop of paint fell onto the egg's surface.

Hebe sighed and casually painted several patches of color onto the shell. It could barely count as a painted egg.

"Th-then this will do." Hebe put the painted egg into the basket with a helpless laugh.

Nitocris shook her head, then reached out and took another egg. She leaned slightly to one side, her right arm naturally wrapping around Hebe's petite body.

The female Pharaoh took hold of Hebe's hands, which had nowhere to settle, and placed them over the egg. She carried a cool, delicate fragrance, like fruit touched by frost—not overpowering, but pleasant.

"Don't poke with your index finger. Use your ring finger and middle finger to smear it... here, and here... Mm, be careful."

Her hand rested atop Hebe's fingers, guiding the paint across the eggshell as she wished. The female Pharaoh's voice grew softer and softer, carrying a faint, secret tremble.

Hebe, meanwhile, was somewhat invigorated. She successfully painted a human figure commonly seen in murals onto the egg's surface.

The only flaw was that she had used too much force at the end and failed to stop in time, leaving the painted figure's head slightly pointed.

Hebe examined the egg, then failed to hold it in and burst out laughing.

At her movement, Nitocris could only release her somewhat unwillingly, letting Hebe slip out of her embrace.

Holding the egg, Hebe walked a few steps around the inner chamber, leaving the delicate prints of her feet upon the carpet.

She looked to be in a very good mood, but before long, that smile gradually faded.

"Tomorrow is the Shemu Festival, so we must make thorough preparations..." Hebe placed the egg into the net bag beside the bed. "Your Highness Nitocris, can you still use your 'Merits' normally?"

At first, Hebe had worried that Nitocris might consider it disrespectful, so she had always addressed her honorifically.

"No problem." Nitocris washed her hands clean in fresh water. "I can use it at any time."

"Then I'm relieved." Hebe nodded faintly. "Next, we shall simply wait and see what sort of surprise His Majesty brings us for tomorrow's festival."

Mutiny

At three in the morning, Memphis was already bustling with noise.

Though the festival proper would not arrive until evening, the excited populace could no longer contain themselves and had begun marching in groups along the main streets.

Yet the atmosphere in the Temple of Thoth was tense.

Hebe sat on the edge of the low bed, turning through the Papyrus Scroll in her hands. Nitocris stood in the shadows by the window, her presence unnoticed by anyone.

At this moment, however, Nitocris's mood was anything but good, because the situation Hebe had foretold had once again unfolded exactly as predicted.

"Rebellion?" Hebe almost laughed aloud upon hearing it. "You mean six Temu-tiger Noble houses have risen up at a time like this, intending to rid His Majesty of me, this treacherous minister who holds all power..."

What a Purge the Court across the ages. But who had ordered it?

Hebe raised her head, looked toward the patterns on the dome, and smiled meaningfully.

"What else?"

"Some time ago, you instructed us to seek out newly emerged associations, sects, and temples. We now have leads on the matter," Seno replied.

Heliopolis was a city where faiths in countless gods gathered, and only a few months ago, several new temples had been established there.

The faith worshipped in those temples was called Thrice Great Hermes, or Hermes for short.

In the legends of later ages, he was a sage who understood alchemy and countless hidden forms of wisdom, and was also regarded as an intersection and overlap of several divinities.

His divinity came from three gods. The first was the Hermes of ancient Greece; the second, the Mercury of ancient Rome; and the third, the Thoth of ancient Egypt... or rather, the King of Ibis.

This was a god who had not originally appeared in this era.

This Hermes was undoubtedly closely connected to the March Archon.

"I understand." Hebe nodded noncommittally. "Go outside first. I have an important task for you shortly."

Only after Seno had left did Hebe turn her gaze toward Nitocris, who emerged from beside the window, and reveal an expression that said, "Just as expected."

"A rare festival..." Nitocris frowned, her gaze falling upon the painted eggs already completed, her heart filled with indescribable disappointment.

Ever since she had met Hebe, the girl before her had never attended any activity aside from necessary public appearances, much less a festival parade.

She had finally managed to persuade her, yet one thing after another had cropped up... The thought filled Nitocris with an inexplicable resentment.

The moment Hebe saw Nitocris's expression, she knew her heart was far from calm. But Hebe had no time to soothe her now. She rose, walked before Nitocris, lowered her voice, and spoke rapidly.

"Princess Nitocris, please proceed to Abydos immediately, as quickly as possible and without exposing yourself."

"Once there, use your Great Work, the Mirror of the Underworld, to draw the entire city of Abydos into the mirror. After that, follow Pepe's route east without stopping."

Hebe smiled somewhat regretfully. "I had wanted to enjoy the festival atmosphere with you, but His Majesty has ruined the mood."

She reached out, picked up the painted egg that had taken quite some time to make, held it in her hand, and shook it at Nitocris.

Nitocris silently picked up her own painted egg. Hebe walked over and gently tapped hers against it.

Crack.

Hebe looked at the cracks appearing on the egg in her palm. She was startled at first, then fell silent.

The egg in Nitocris's hand, however, remained completely intact.

Just as she was about to say something, the female Pharaoh suddenly stepped forward.

Hebe was pulled into her embrace.

"Must it be this way?" Nitocris asked softly.

"Yes," Hebe replied. "I hope you will not be angry with me."

How could I be angry with you? There is still so much I have yet to say to you, so many things we have yet to do... Nitocris thought.

The female Pharaoh felt so wronged that she nearly cried.

Yet in the end, she could not say anything. She merely sighed softly before her form dissolved into the shadows. The shadows abruptly raised their heads, spread four hooves, and roamed through the inner chamber like a vast dark cloud.

The dark cloud rolled through the air, and a jackal's head broke free from it. Anubis gazed at Hebe with moist eyes, then turned away without looking back and ran toward the wilderness before dawn.

Hebe sat by the low bed and gave a self-mocking smile.

The words on the Papyrus Scroll before the desk silently twisted into characters only she could understand.

Current Progress: 65%

The moment Hebe made her decision, the Lostbelt's progress surged by a full 20%, proving that this was a crucial turning point. The true game began now.

—The Red King had ordered the military nobles to launch a mutiny against Hebe, while Hebe had sent Nitocris to Abydos.

Ozymandias wanted to keep Hebe tied down in Memphis, unable to leave on her own.

Hebe, meanwhile, intended to go to Heliopolis and pay a visit to the temple devoted to Thrice Great Hermes.

She had sent Nitocris to Abydos to divert the Red King's attention, and had her use her Great Work so that Abydos would not truly be destroyed by the Red King.

At around four in the morning, a commotion rose outside the Temple of Thoth. Hebe slowly walked out and saw warriors clad in armor and carrying weapons glaring angrily at her.

They held shields, spears, and swords. Their weapons were inscribed with Sacred Script designed to resist mental influence. As they marched shoulder to shoulder, a heavy pressure came howling through the predawn wind, making Hebe's fingertips ache faintly.

"You treacherous minister!" someone cursed from behind the ranks. "Your soul should be ripped out and stuffed into a scarab! You have received His Majesty the Red King's grace, yet you turned around and usurped power that was never yours!"

Hebe merely smiled noncommittally. Not far away, Sekhenkhet saw that smile and felt his scalp tingle.

"These are governors who have only recently arrived in Memphis from various regions to report for duty..." Sekhenkhet hurried over and quietly explained the identities of the nobles involved in the mutiny.

But Hebe stopped him.

"I have no interest in knowing that." Hebe shrugged. "King of Sheep, you have been watching, haven't you?"

Two burning points of fire suddenly rose in the biting predawn wind. Then the King of Sheep, clad in black robes, emerged from the wind.

The instant he appeared, the crowd attempting to revolt before the Temple of Thoth erupted into even greater turmoil.

After all, compared to the newly appointed King of Ibis, the King of Sheep—whose savage reputation had endured for centuries—was naturally far more terrifying.

"King of Sheep!" one of the nobles shouted. "We have come by His Majesty the Red King's order to execute the treacherous minister who has stolen the positions of Thoth and Hermanubis. Please lend us your aid!"

"Utterly absurd."

The tall sheep's head uttered cold words, shattering the deathly silence.

"If His Majesty wished to strip the King of Ibis of his authority, a single word would suffice. Why would he need you to 'do it for him'?"

The King of Sheep raised a hand. Light flickered across his sharp claws like drifting fireflies, but the people gathered before the Temple of Thoth felt their hearts pound in terror, as though something were about to burst from their chests.

Thump, thump! Thump, thump!

Their heartbeats grew louder and louder. Their eyeballs gradually stiffened as though they had never been oiled, taking on a metallic sheen, while furry, membrane-covered things began poking out from their throats.

Amid stifled retching, they all vomited up their own hearts. The hearts rolled across the ground, sprouted four pairs of tiny limbs, and gradually developed patterns like scorch marks from flames.

The hearts, transformed into scarabs, suddenly scuttled away. One after another, the mutinous nobles collapsed to the ground.

Honestly, Hebe was quite surprised.

Because in her expectations, the King of Sheep should not have acted.

In the previous simulations, he had stood firmly and unwaveringly on the Red King's side.

Hebe had even prepared more than one complete plan for killing and burying him, all so she could eliminate him at the first opportunity if necessary.

Yet the King of Sheep's actions at this moment were far removed from what Hebe had imagined.

Because the truth of the matter was not, as he had claimed, that these nobles had acted on their own.

Hebe knew that the Red King had truly issued some veiled command to these nobles by some means, demanding that they keep her in Memphis by any means necessary.

In the morning wind, the King of Sheep's black robes fluttered lightly. His towering body leaned forward slightly as he asked in a muffled voice, "With the festival so near, you seem to be in quite a hurry. Where is the King of Ibis heading?"

He did not mention a single word about the nobles who had died for the Red King.

Hebe chuckled softly. "I truly have no mind to enjoy the festive atmosphere. The Calamity of the Ennead is growing ever more severe. All this time, I have been searching for a refuge capable of withstanding the disaster. Now, I have finally found a lead, and I am about to inspect the place in person."

"Oh!"

The King of Sheep exclaimed in surprise. "Where is it?"

"Abydos," Hebe explained. "It is where the Temple of Kings stands, under the greatest protection of God Horus. The Calamity of the Ennead has never disturbed Abydos."

"That is wonderful." The King of Sheep sighed, though it was impossible to tell whether he meant it. "Please set out quickly, then."

He bowed slightly. "May your journey be smooth."

At that moment, Hebe was certain that the King of Sheep was truly helping her, rather than being another trap laid by the Red King.

Hebe silently returned the bow, then gathered her people as quickly as possible.

Ten minutes later, Seno had assembled everyone outside the city.

"Head toward Abydos at top speed. To remain hidden, I will follow behind you. When you are five settlements away from Abydos, make camp and wait for me to join you," Hebe ordered Seno. "Understood?"

The order was somewhat strange, but Seno did not hesitate in the slightest.

They swiftly boarded wooden boats and sailed upstream along the Nile River, heading for Abydos in Upper Egypt.

Hebe, meanwhile, concealed her tracks with illusions and rushed in the opposite direction, toward Heliopolis!

That was right—both Seno's party and her earlier words had been decoys meant to divert the Red King's attention.

Hebe raced through the desert at full speed, avoiding the raging winds as she thought in silence. *