Miss Hebe Is Charging Through the Lostbelts! [26]

Although the Mark of “Lord of Fiends” bore the name of a sovereign, it did not emphasize dominion over reality. Its kingship lay more in the realms of the mind, faith, and spirituality.

Broadly speaking, the effects of this Mark could be divided into two categories.

First, it established a “Precept of Silence.” Within the bounds of the precept, everyone aside from Hebe would be suppressed, but Hebe could grant a target “pardon,” allowing the pardoned person to move freely within its range.

Once someone violated it, the precept would become punishment, temporarily stripping the offender of one random ability, Marks excluded. This skill would be nullified against those of higher status.

It embodied a superior’s suppression through the Path of Authority, while also displaying the prohibitions of the Priest Path. In other words, it was a large-scale silence-and-weakening field.

Against anything below Daylight, it was practically a divine mowing skill. A proper anti-army special attack.

Second, it granted “special prerogative.”

This prerogative allowed Hebe to temporarily obtain one ability no higher than her current status.

It looked extremely simple, but in truth, it was absurdly overpowered, because “abilities” included Marks.

In other words, Hebe could use “Lord of Fiends” to forcibly simulate a third Mark, then combine all three Marks during its duration to form a Great Deed.

Was that a fantasy? No. It was entirely feasible, and the success rate was not low.

Morgan had once mortgaged the “Avalon le Fae” to forcibly borrow against the future and become a “Dusk” of the Path of Calamity ahead of time!

As expected of an Imperial Privilege-type Mark. This is just openly cheating, Hebe thought.

Setting aside the truly unbearable name “Sarkaz,” the effect of this Mark was overwhelmingly powerful, worthy of a Mark that crossed the Paths beneath the three great Principles of Lantern, Winter, and Blade.

The strength of this Mark far surpassed anything Hebe had ever seen before.

At the necessary moment, perhaps it could reverse an otherwise inevitable situation.

The gathered sand gradually scattered. The girl straightened again and gazed toward the far end of the horizon, as if she could see the god-king suspended high above the heavens, eternally ruling over all living things.

“It is time. Ozymandias should not be kept waiting any longer.”

Hebe smiled calmly, light and at ease.

As if it had sensed her “provocation,” the still clouds churned like the tide.

Scorching light spilled from the clouds and fell at the tips of her feet.

Let’s go.

…

Seven days later, Hebe saw the glorious three great pyramids on the horizon once more.

After so many simulations, no matter how breathtaking the wonder, it could no longer move her.

The eagle-feather-crowned warrior, the military noble named Sekanahat, was now kneeling on one knee beside the gates of Memphis. He had been kneeling there since the day before yesterday, awaiting the arrival of the new “Hermanubis.”

On the other side was the priest wearing a cylindrical cap. He was even more devout, even humbler, kneeling on both knees with his hands open and facing upward, his forehead pressed to the ground.

Their submission represented the withdrawal of both great factions, the military nobles and the temple priests, from the struggle for the seat of Hermanubis.

All because three days ago, the King of Rams had walked out of the pyramid bearing an oral edict.

It was a commandment fixed upon a stone tablet, like a mark burned there by lightning and raging fire.

That gaunt silhouette, clad in black robes and wearing a crown blazing like flame, lowered its ram’s head, from which spiral horns grew, and cast them an indifferent, contemptuous gaze.

“Cease this endless, tedious squabbling. His Majesty has grown weary—of all of you.”

Khnum, King of Rams and Minister of Ministers, gently lifted the stone tablet in his arms.

“By His Majesty’s decree, the new ‘Hermanubis’ has already descended. Her name is Imhotep. You may prepare the ceremony.”

Just like that, with a few casual words, he put an end to a conflict that had embroiled two great factions and dozens of families.

No matter what grievances they held, no matter how unwilling they were to accept it, all bowed before that single oral edict from the Red King.

And now, at the center of the road where the two factions of nobles and priests lay prostrate, the thin, tall figure of the King of Rams appeared in silence. In his arms, he still held the scorched stone tablet, his burning pupils staring into the distance.

At last, soft footsteps sounded from the end of the road under martial law.

Along both sides of the roads of Memphis, everyone raised their eyes and silently watched that figure, one that could even be called “petite.” No one spoke a word of opposition, but none of them bothered hiding the hostility settled in their eyes, either.

Only when they saw those calm green eyes did everyone fall into a momentary daze.

And in that daze, Hebe passed through the royal road lined by their ranks, stopping before the King of Rams and lifting her head to meet his gaze.

She neither spoke nor bowed. She simply looked at him, neither servile nor overbearing.

The ram’s head with its burning eyes slowly lowered, carrying the hint of a mocking smile.

“—Imhotep?”

“Khnum.” Hebe gripped her staff and raised her eyes. “I do not have much time.”

Dead silence.

Absolute dead silence descended.

Whether warriors or priests, all cast horrified looks toward the center of the royal road.

Ever since the King of Rams had become the Red King’s hand more than two hundred years ago, no one had dared speak loudly before him, let alone show even the slightest disrespect…

Not only because he was a [DUSK], but because he was “the one who stands at the Red King’s side,” the Red King’s hand in the mortal world, and the mouth through which the Red King conveyed his decrees.

After only one of the three kings remained, the authority of the King of Rams had become even more impossible to look upon directly. Even one of his fellow Nine Sage Gods had once been judged by the King of Rams.

The King of Rams had personally extracted his soul, sealed it within tens of thousands of scarabs, then reshaped his mind with curses, turning him into the colossal statue that would guard Memphis forever.

And once everyone realized what was about to happen, countless gazes laden with expectation, ambition, and anger fell upon Hebe.

They were waiting for the moment this young little girl would be subjected to the King of Rams’ cruelest punishment!

After that brief silence, the King of Rams’ smile grew stranger, sharper.

He slowly straightened. Endless shadows spread from beneath that black robe with bared teeth and claws, slowly climbing onto the robe’s shoulders and forming a sinister ring behind that ram’s head.

In that expanse of eerie darkness, only two fierce points of fire leapt and burned.

“Then. Prove it to me—”

The King of Rams’ long, sharp claws clenched, then slowly pointed toward the top of Hebe’s head.

Those pointed claws glowed with a smoldering fire. As the King of Rams’ hand drew closer and closer, the air turned viscous, the earth seemed to soften instead, and the light around them became almost solid.

This was because he presided over the wisdom of forging and transformation. What manifested from it was a power sufficient to alter the very properties of things.

Yet what answered him was only an unremarkable staff.

That staff had accompanied Hebe back from Thebes and was already covered in gray dust.

But the King of Rams’ finger did not advance another inch.

Hebe raised her eyes wearily. “Is this enough?”

“You…”

The shadows boiled as if enraged, yet those burning pupils grew brighter and brighter, like… sparks struck from flint in the boundless night.

Of course the King of Rams recognized the staff’s true nature. It was a weapon for war, forged by a master of the Ram school after gathering the secret transmissions of the four great schools: Phoenix, Jackal, Lion, and Snake.

This weapon did not truly exist. It was an illusion, drawn from memory through Illusion.

It had returned from Thebes, which should have become a land of death, and brought back scars that defied the kingship of the Red King Ozymandias.

The traces of every school could be found upon it.

If no rebel had emerged from the schools, then the girl before him was a born all-round genius.

“The requirement for Hermanubis is to master at least the first sequence of secret transmission,” Hebe said softly. “I believe there is no one in Memphis now more qualified than I am to inherit this seat, Minister of Ministers. But if you think ‘Hermanubis’ is not enough to make you look at me properly…”

She let go, and that staff broke apart inch by inch, forcing the King of Rams’ hand back.

In the next instant, Hebe once again drew a new staff out of thin air beside her.

Thud.

The staff struck the ground.

“—Then how about ‘Scarlet Ibis King’?”

In the long silence, the King of Rams indifferently brushed the ash from his palm, about to answer the madwoman before him.

Yet an answer came before he could.

The stone tablet rose from the King of Rams’ arms and grew scorching hot.

It trembled through the air, letting out a bold, heroic laugh.

[HEH HEH HEH HEH, HAHAHAHAHA!]

[YOU DEFIANT WRETCH. YOU ARE RATHER AMUSING INDEED. NO MATTER. I PERMIT IT!]

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!