The Sahara Desert, a temporary encampment somewhere.
Whoosh.
The desert wind was somewhat scorching. Facing into it, the gold-and-blue scarab floated up from a palm and pointed toward a certain direction in the distance.
"It really is Hamunaptra, that legendary city that suddenly appeared."
Holding a crocodile cane, dressed in a red shirt, Arthur Harrow withdrew his gaze from the direction the scarab was pointing and looked at Steven Grant beside him.
Pinned firmly by the shoulders by two bearded men with guns, Steven's face was full of what-the-fuck. Even now, he still could not figure out what exactly had happened.
"Mate, is there some kind of misunderstanding between us?"
"Misunderstanding?"
Arthur Harrow turned around, his smile a little playful.
"As the previous knight of Khonshu, I think... I wouldn't mistake the person."
"Uh, I don't understand what you're talking about?"
Steven shook his head, trying his best not to look at Khonshu, who had suddenly appeared in the distance.
He was a guy with a huge white-boned bird head. He had no neck, and his body was extremely tall, his head hovering above it. His whole body was wrapped in bandages like a mummy, and he held a crescent-shaped staff. The moment he opened his mouth, he was filled with a lofty, condescending air.
[Kill him, Steven!]
Steven silently shook his head. How could he possibly do something like that? Besides, the other side had guns.
"He's here... isn't he?"
As a former doctor, Arthur Harrow merely swept his gaze casually over Steven's face and noticed something off.
"Uh..."
Watching Khonshu roar over there, Steven did not quite know what to say.
"He must hate me very much, right? Let me guess, he wants you to kill me?"
As expected of a man who had once worked with Khonshu,