Miss Hebe Is Charging Through the Lostbelts! [40]

Heliopolis.

“Brilliant! Marvelous! Unparalleled!”

After a brief speechlessness born of astonishment, Tutankhamun burst into clear laughter. He clapped his hands, sparing no praise. “How bold, and yet how clever. To realize the correct direction from only a few fragments of speech—one could say the pulse of history is now in your hands.”

“Then, for such a grand occasion, I trust you will not refuse a pharaoh’s participation?”

“It would be my honor.” Hebe dipped slightly.

“Excellent, excellent.” Tutankhamun leaned against the desk and smiled knowingly. “You need have no concerns about Heliopolis. As for now, I imagine you would not mind a little help from me?”

The pharaoh stood, patted down his white cloak, and leisurely extended a hand.

Two pure rays of light abruptly appeared above his head. They joined end to end, forming a brilliant ring behind him.

“My Third Mark is called [WINGS OF THE PHANTASTIC SUNRISE],” Tutankhamun explained. “Its greatest effect is to receive the power of the Master of Secret Arts, stabilizing this frail body of mine so that my Marks do not conflict with one another and my Great Deed can operate normally.”

“Because of that, those blessed by my Third Mark can travel without restriction along all secret roads. Your Highness Hermes, once you receive this blessing, you will be able to cross the vast lands between Upper and Lower Egypt smoothly, reaching the east of Abydos from here in a single instant.”

As Tutankhamun spoke, wing-like patterns stretched out from both sides of the halo, and dazzling sunlight fell over Hebe like a thin veil.

Hebe knew that this Mark’s effects were definitely not limited to that. But if Tutankhamun did not say so, she would not ask.

“The Third Mark’s blessing is complete.” Tutankhamun smiled. “But it is not enough.”

The halo behind his head expanded like a living thing, sharp barbs extending from its edge.

From the temple floor, a huge object made of pure gold gradually rose. Its exterior somewhat resembled a coffin used to hold a mummy, but its front was a hollow yet majestic face, exactly the same as the “golden mask of Tutankhamun” Hebe had seen on television in her previous life.

This golden mask was enormous, its interior spacious enough to hold two people.

Hebe stepped inside, and illusory sunlight gradually began to radiate from the surface of the golden mask.

The pharaoh’s face slowly turned, looking toward the distant east of Abydos, where Nitocris was.

A voice came from far away, like a dreamer’s murmur.

—[NEFER HOR IMYNETJER: THE FAIREST OF THEM ALL AMONG THE GODS].

This was Tutankhamun’s Great Deed.

[CURRENT PROGRESS]: 75%

…

The climate east of Abydos had already been completely changed by the disaster. When Hebe stepped out of the golden mask, the scorching yellow sand genuinely burned her for a moment.

Fortunately, it had not yet reached a point where it was utterly unbearable.

Not far away, there was a small oasis where wild date palms grew. Nitocris was sitting beneath the trees.

When Hebe walked over, she tugged at the corners of her mouth as if she wanted to smile, but that expression looked worse than crying.

“He really did it. How dare he…”

The female pharaoh murmured blankly to herself. In her pupils churned ceaseless hatred, grievance, and pain.

Just moments ago, Nitocris had still been thinking that she wanted to see Hebe. But now that Hebe had truly appeared before her, Nitocris did not dare speak.

She had not fulfilled her promise to Hebe and traveled east all the way; nor had she been able to stop the disaster. Even when the Breath of Set swept over, her heart had been seized by terror for an instant.

In truth, this was only human nature.

What truly tormented Nitocris was that delicate and sensitive heart of her own.

Hebe keenly sensed that.

“Please help me,” the flaxen-haired girl said, lowering her eyes. “Your Majesty Nitocris.”

“All right.” The female pharaoh’s voice trembled. At last, she lifted her face and bloomed into a radiant smile like a sunflower. “If it’s you…”

If it was for you, then everything I have done was not meaningless.

Five minutes later, Hebe and Nitocris returned to the vicinity of Abydos, avoiding the rampaging venomous serpents and fierce beasts, and reunited with Cyno and the others.

“Ibis King.” Seeing Hebe arrive, everyone’s anxious hearts finally managed to settle.

“Cyno, have your subordinates prepare.” Hebe calmly issued her orders, as though she had rehearsed them ten million times. “Once we return to the White City, immediately mobilize all the people of Memphis to head for the city gates. Tell them not to bring anything with them, so as not to cause panic.”

The taciturn young man froze. Then his body trembled slightly with excitement.

He bowed in silence. “As you command.”

Nitocris appeared beside Hebe, the obsidian mirror in her arms aimed at Cyno and his subordinates, drawing them into the mirror as well.

The golden mask descended from the clouds. Illusory sunlight once again enveloped that majestic face. It slowly turned, this time aiming toward Memphis.

…

Hebe realized there had still been some flaws in her estimate. When she first flew inside the golden mask, she had thought it could comfortably carry two people.

Yet after Nitocris entered, what had originally been a fairly spacious area for Hebe instantly became extremely cramped, forcing her to curl her legs up while being held in Nitocris’s arms.

It was certainly a posture that could easily lead to misunderstandings, but at this moment, they no longer had the time to feel anything about it.

The golden mask descended silently into Memphis. At this hour, the residents of the city had not yet dispersed from the lingering excitement of the festival, utterly unaware that, in a distant stretch of their country, one city had already been destroyed.

Nitocris carried Hebe and leapt out of the golden mask. The instant their feet touched solid ground, the golden mask gradually faded, scattered, and returned to formlessness.

Tutankhamun’s blessing had a time limit.

Hebe patted Nitocris on the arm, indicating that she should put her down.

The female pharaoh turned the mirror around, and Cyno and the others began running through the streets and alleys of Memphis. They summoned their colleagues and subordinates, beginning to mobilize the people of Memphis.

Throughout this process, Hebe paid attention to the movements around them. Yet the King of Rams never appeared.

Seizing this chance, Nitocris went outside the city and turned the mirror over once again, and the people being guided there walked, unknowingly and unaware, into [ANPU NEB TA DJESER: NETHER MIRROR THESAURUS].

Thunder rumbled in the sky, anger hidden within it. The Red King had noticed Hebe’s actions, but he could not do anything—the ritual of ascension had already reached its critical moment, and Ozymandias could spare no more energy.

But that did not mean he would let these people go.

The earth began to shake, and the houses on the outer edge of Memphis started collapsing in whole swaths.

“Ima, go!”

Standing outside the city gate and avoiding the cracks opening across the ground, Nitocris shouted loudly to Hebe.

But Hebe only smiled. She waved to Nitocris.

This is a fan translation of 赫柏小姐正在杀出异闻带！ by 青散人 Rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!