Queen Isis had supported her son to succeed the throne with incredible speed.
Such speed was unbelievably fast, with the Kingdom changing overnight before the Nobles and Ministers had co to terms with the King’s demise, Queen Isis had already taken Oton’s crown and placed it on her son’s head.
Before the Crown Prince ascended to the throne, there were so who doubted the Queen’s involvent in the King’s death, but once the Crown Prince had taken the throne, no one dared to speculate on the complexities involved.
Because Queen Isis had taken control of the Kingdom’s power.
It was as if she had been prepared for the death of the King, and in the blink of an eye, the Noble Ministers who were favored by the Queen filled the entire court, and after her son’s throne was secured, Queen Isis began to purge those who were different.
This included Pri Minister Yibia.
In the court, the Guard escorted Pri Minister Yibia, making him kneel before the throne.
Pri Minister Yibia looked pale as he gazed at the throne, at a naive boy under ten wearing an oversized crown, his young age contrasting sharply with the throne itself.
And beside the throne stood the stunningly beautiful Queen Isis.
Pri Minister Yibia trembled with fear, not daring to make eye contact with the woman.
In his eyes, it was Queen Isis who seed like the one on the throne, not the son of Oton.
"Pri Minister Yibia, your despicable deeds are known to all and are too nurous to record," said Queen Isis with a slight smile, effortlessly listing the cris of Pri Minister Yibia,
"First, you are guilty of bribery and perverting the justice, using the national treasury’s provisions to build Temples in your own na, if the Prophetic God witnessed this, He would surely forsake you.
Secondly, you have used power for personal gain, how many parasites in the court owe their service to the King to your patronage, bringing chaos to the governnt.
Lastly, you used bewitching words on my husband, our revered forr King, presenting him with lowly male consorts, to bewitch the forr King, thereby ensuring your position in the Kingdom!"
When she ca to the last accusation, Queen Isis’s tone beca markedly heavier, and her diction beca sharper.
Pri Minister Yibia’s corpulent body trembled within the court, he could never have imagined that the once young and healthy King Oton would suddenly die one day, turning into a stone statue.
Moreover, before he could react, Queen Isis had her son ascend to the throne and took control of the Kingdom’s power.
Everything had proceeded so smoothly, without the slightest hint of flaw.
Queen Isis’s experienced tactics were too well executed, and under such circumstances, even as the Pri Minister, Yibia could not shake her rule.
"Effective imdiately, the King will strip you of your position as Pri Minister and all your possessions, and your family and servants will all be thrown into prison, awaiting the King’s disposal."
Queen Isis passed the final decision without giving Pri Minister Yibia any chance to defend himself.
Then, she glanced at her young son.
The newly crowned King nodded and waved his hand, indicating he had no objections.
That was how the Yibia family went from the glory of a Pri Minister’s household to heinous prisoners overnight.
Pri Minister Yibia’s son Casas, including servants like Noen, were all taken to prison.
And Yibia himself could neither resist nor defend, on the day he was taken to prison, not one Noble Minister in the court dared defend Pri Minister Yibia.
Certainly, Pri Minister Yibia’s own vile actions played a role.
But more importantly,
before Pri Minister Yibia, Queen Isis had already removed Ministers who could be a threat to her with swift and decisive action.
Now, Queen Isis held all the power of the Kingdom in her hands, everything under her control.
...
In the prison,
Noen hugged his knees, staring blankly at the prison door before him.
When he was taken to prison that day, everything happened so suddenly, he didn’t know what was going on before the Guards ca, bound his hands, and threw him onto a carriage.
And it wasn’t until after arriving at the prison that he learned from the snippets of the prison guard’s conversation that it was Queen Isis who had put them there.
The Yibia Family had hundreds of servants, and the Royal Capital’s prisons could not accommodate them all, so Queen Isis had no choice but to order so to be detained in the prisons, while the rest were held in so vacant mansions.
Whether it was good luck or bad, Noen happened to be among those imprisoned.
Being locked up in jail, he was initially panic-stricken, but fortunately, he had acquaintances in prison.
The old Priest.
He was being kept alone in the cell across from him.
Noen sat in front of the cell door, watching the old Priest across from him.
"Noen... it’s you."
The old Priest, disheveled and looking extrely unkempt,
had obviously been ordered into this place by the Queen well before Noen was thrown into the jail.
Queen Isis had prohibited any Nobles or Ministers from approaching the cell on the pretext of preventing the old Priest from spreading delusion among the people.
Therefore, aside from the prison guards and prisoners, no one could hear the old Priest’s defense or understand his innocence.
In the first few days, the old Priest had frantically spoken out about the Queen’s conspiracy, but after realizing that his efforts were in vain, he had given up struggling.
Because he harbored guilt towards his brother, he had trusted his niece, which led to the King’s death.
Now, the old Priest was going to be sentenced to death.
"Old Priest... did you really kill the King?"
Noen asked incredulously while looking at the old Priest.
In his mind, the old Priest would never be such a person.
The old Priest forced a bitter smile and said,
"It wasn’t , it was the Queen."
"What, what happened?!"
Noen asked in astonishnt.
"Noen... it’s a long story, I can only tell you that the Witch was brought by the Queen, it’s all her conspiracy."
As the old Priest spoke, his voice sounded weak and powerless.
Noen was only half clear about the reasons behind it all, but he chose to believe the old Priest’s words.
"Old Priest, what should we do now? Can’t you get out of here to accuse, to accuse the Queen of her conspiracy?!"
Upon hearing this, the old Priest couldn’t help but laugh.
This young man was truly naïve.
"It’s no use, Noen, no one will believe . They all saw bring the Witch to the King, they all saw the Queen weeping sorrowfully in front of the stone statue.
Moreover, I’ve heard from the prison guards that the Crown Prince has already ascended the throne, Queen Isis has taken command of the powers of the Kingdom, and with my cri so firmly established, death is not far from ."
As the old Priest spoke, his voice grew fainter, clearly having lost all hope of clearing his na.
Noen listened dumbfounded to the old Priest’s words.
This simplehearted young man had never imagined that things could be so complicated.
Seeing Noen’s expression, the old Priest gave a bitter smile.
In this prison, the old Priest had more than once tried to tell his story to the prison guards.
But most of the guards did not believe his claims.
And even the few who did dare not release the old Priest from the jail— for that was a capital offense.
Gradually, the old Priest had stopped trying to tell the truth and had beco silent.
Now, the reason for divulging so much inside information was solely due to seeing Noen.
"How did you get caught and brought here?"
The old Priest glanced at the cell opposite him and, besides Noen, saw many familiar faces.
This surprised him.
"We... we were all thrown into the great prison by the Queen,"
Noen lowered his head and spoke softly,
"The Queen judged the cris of the Yibia, the master of Yibia."
The old Priest suddenly understood.
The Esia whom the King adored had been presented by the Yibia Pri Minister.
Now that Queen Isis was acting as Regent, she naturally wanted to cut Yibia out of the court.
"It seems our luck isn’t very good,"
the old Priest said, managing a bitter smile.
Noen didn’t know what to say.
At this mont, he felt a sincere panic.
"Old Priest... what will happen to you? What... what will happen to ?"
Noen asked, frightened.
The old Priest fixed his gaze on the youth before him and spoke softly,
"I... I will be executed, no one can save .
As for you, child, you may still have a glimr of hope.
You are but a slave, not a noble, and once the Yibia Pri Minister is sentenced, you may be sold to soone else as a slave without a master."
Upon hearing this, Noen felt a slight peace of mind.
But a mont later, he suddenly felt uneasy.
What about Casas; he still wanted to live his life alongside his master, who was like a brother to him.
The old Priest seed to notice what was on Noen’s mind and after a mont of thought, he sighed helplessly.
"Noen... that you could survive at all is already the best outco,"
the old Priest said, unwilling to lie to the young man and offering what comfort he could.
Noen simply nodded, his spirit deflated as he sat in front of the cell door.
"I can do nothing."
He murmured.
A feeling of profound helplessness filled his limbs.
Perhaps it was the presence of familiar faces that lent the otherwise resigned old Priest a touch of vitality in the following days.
With his execution not yet upon him, the old Priest began telling all the slaves who believed in the Supre God legends, just as he had in past days.
"The very first Prophet and his eldest son, Yarlessto, boarded a canoe, and in the blink of an eye, God carried them out to sea,"
the slaves, including Noen, listened, enchanted.
Even those slaves who had never been exposed to the Lord were drawn to the tales told by the old Priest, gathering close to the cells.
"At that ti, no one had seen the ocean, and Yarlessto was stunned; he marvelled that there could be such a large lake in the world!"
The old Priest’s voice was filled with passion as he poured his emotions into every word.
"And then...
God ca walking.
He walked over the water."
Noen listened in astonishnt to this narrative and couldn’t help asking,
"Wouldn’t God fall into the water?"
"No,"
the old Priest chuckled a little,
"Only people fall into the water, God walks upon it."
For several days in a row, the old Priest had been telling the slaves in prison stories from the "Book of Kings and Prophets."
His vivid language added a splash of color to the gloomy cell, gradually bringing the slaves back from their terror.
Even a number of slaves who had originally been believers of Kagawus were moved by the old Priest’s voice, converting to the Lord he spoke of, or believing in both deities simultaneously.
Listening to the old Priest recount myths and legends daily beca a shared joy for the slaves.
And the old Priest was devoting his greatest enthusiasm to this.
However, Noen, the young man by the na, heard a sense of urgency in the fervent voice.
Late at night, when most were asleep, Noen tiptoed to the front of the cell door.
The old Priest hadn’t fallen asleep yet, and he noticed Noen.
"What is it?"
"Old Priest... you seem very eager... eager to tell us that history."
Noen asked sowhat hesitantly.
The old Priest hadn’t expected Noen to be so perceptive. After a bitter smile, he slowly nodded.
"That’s right, Noen, I am eager."
He paused for a mont and then continued,
"I am about to be executed, and the ’Book of Kings and Prophets’ will fall back into the Queen’s hands, to be sealed away once again."
"Noen, I can foresee such an outco."
"But I can’t just let it end like this; I must continue the legacy of that history. I have to tell it to you, have you keep it in your heart, forever and ever."
Noen was stunned.
The old Priest looked intently at Noen and said softly,
"Only this way, our faith will not be forgotten,
Only this way, even if the historical records are sealed again, that history will not be sealed by people!
And this is the last thing I can do for the Lord."
For a mont, Noen didn’t know what to say; he had never imagined the old Priest’s daily narration carried such a great mission.
The old Priest’s aged eyes, at this mont, were vivid with spirit.
"Noen, I don’t know, I don’t know if you are willing to commit to this faith at this mont,"
his voice was clearly weak, but Noen heard the determination,
"but I beg you, please rember the history I tell,
after my death,
I implore you to carry on the stories of the Logos."
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