If There Is No Fire in This World, We Are the Last Light! 2/4

The Nine Realms, Midgard.

A battered Sun Ship was docked in the southern region. The frigid climate made the Egyptians, accustomed to basking in sunlight, shiver uncontrollably.

Even if they had somewhere to stay, how could their hearts find peace?

They had long since lost their homes and their country. Their parents and siblings had also been buried in that Sea of Nothingness.

A desolate atmosphere filled the makeshift camp. Faint sobs drifted from the haphazardly erected tents, and everywhere they looked was a scene of gloom and misery.

"Praise to you, Ra, for your wondrous rising! You rise and shine, making the heavens roll aside. You are the King of Gods, the lord of all things. We came from you, and through you became sacred. Your priests greet the dawn, cleansing their hearts with laughter; the holy wind carries music over the strings of your golden harp."

Just then, a familiar and solemn hymn rose from the battered Sun Ship. The warmth born from the soul gradually drove away the chill in their hearts, and the Egyptians, like walking corpses, instinctively gathered and moved toward its source.

As rainbow-like beams of attention descended, what came into view were steaming Honey Wine, meals, meat, and fur cloaks that were not particularly attractive, but warm enough.

A graceful woman with long brown-black hair and a red flower pin in her hair stood before the supplies. A heartwarming smile appeared on her pale face. What drew even more attention from the Egyptians was the gold-and-blue interwoven scepter in her hand. Sunlight spilled outward with the rippling divine patterns upon it.

Princess Nefertari, and the King's scepter!

At the same time, a radiant hawk-headed humanoid deity descended gracefully from the sky on the right, holding a scepter. The seven- or eight-meter-tall being of