Chapter 1125 - 356: True and False Sun God (Part 2)

"Legilimency!"

A silver-white light flowed from his fingertips, slowly winding around the old man’s forehead. This was not ordinary Legilimency, but Legilimency from a master, with the magic wand’s tip emitting an almost invisible silver light, like moonlit spider silk, instantly linking Ian’s temple and the old man’s forehead.

The old man’s pupils suddenly dilated, shuddering violently, his eyes became instantly unfocused, his body slightly trembling, his resistance frozen mid-motion, as if controlled by some invisible force.

The air in the alley seemed to have solidified, dust suspended motionless in the light.

Ian felt his consciousness being pulled into a spinning tunnel, the surrounding scenes twisting into distorted watercolors. Brick walls melted and reformed, the ground undulating like waves. When the dizziness finally subsided, he found himself standing in a transparent bubble, floating above the river of the old man’s memories.

"By Merlin’s beard," Ian murmured to himself, "these memories are quite twisted."

Countless memory fragments swam past him like fish in a river, some bright as pearls, others dim and tainted. Ian focused his thoughts, guiding the bubble toward the memories related to the amulet.

The bubble passed through a layer of sticky memory barrier, and the scene suddenly became clear. Ian found himself standing in the courtyard of a wealthy merchant’s residence in ancient Memphis. This wasn’t the current Memphis, but the city at least five years ago—buildings were newer, streets cleaner, the air lacking that lingering sense of despair.

Under the pomegranate tree at the courtyard’s center, a well-dressed middle-aged man was enjoying breakfast. This was clearly the old man—or rather, his appearance before madness took him. The middle-aged man’s black hair was only streaked with a few silver strands, his face full and flushed, a signet ring symbolizing the merchant status on his finger.

A young woman and two children sat around him, laughter flowing like clear springs in the morning light. Evidently, this was a snapshot of a wealthy, happy family.

"Father, did you have that dream again last night?"

The girl asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

The man—Ian now knew his name was Nakut—put down the dates, his expression becoming solemn and mysterious. "Yes, my little star. Ra appeared to me once again."

Upon hearing this, Ian raised an eyebrow. Was this the beginning of everything?

He stood in a haze of light and shadow, watching as a spectator at the old man in his memory—the younger Nakut, dressed in a neat linen robe, his face refined.

His gaze carried a hint of wisdom and confidence.

He wasn’t the disheveled figure he was now.

He was a clerk at the temple, tasked with recording daily offerings and oracles. He once had a happy family, a gentle wife, smart children.

Life was prosperous and he was respected.

Until that day—at night, Nakut sat alone in the temple courtyard, holding a papyrus scroll filled with hieroglyphs. He was preparing for the ceremony the next day.

Suddenly, a dazzling light appeared in the sky.

A figure slowly emerged from the light.

It was—Sun God Ra.

He was draped in a golden robe, crowned with an eagle-head crown, his eyes burning like the sun, his voice deep and commanding:

"You are the one I have chosen."

The young old man knelt on the ground, trembling and bowing his head.

"Great Ra, I...I am but a humble clerk."

"Yet your soul is pure, your will steadfast." Ra’s voice seemed to penetrate the soul, "I shall bless you, carrying my blessing until the era you are needed arrives."

This was the man’s first encounter with the so-called Sun God Ra. At this moment, he had not yet received that protective talisman, and the young old man was moved to tears, bowing repeatedly.

"I will serve you unto my death!"

The young old man was obviously captivated.

However.

Ian stood at the corner of the memory, his brow furrowed. He watched all this, yet felt a cold smile rise in his heart. This so-called "Ra," his acting was too poor. The other’s tone was rigid, as if reciting a script; his movements stiff, like an actor deliberately imitating the majesty of a deity.

This was not a god’s descent.

This was a carefully orchestrated hoax.

Right as Ian formed this judgment in his mind.

The memory suddenly flowed faster, the courtyard wiped away like by an invisible hand, replaced by a lavishly decorated bedroom. The night oil lamps cast swaying shadows on the wall, Nakut knelt alone before a small statue of the god Ra in prayer. He looked tired and anxious, deep dark circles under his eyes.

"Great Sun God," Nakut prayed in a low voice, "grant me your oracle once more, guide my path."

With his prayer, the air in the room suddenly grew heavy. The flame of the oil lamps turned eerily blue, then shot up, casting a giant anthropomorphic deity shadow with a falcon head on the ceiling. Ian squinted, again thinking these special effects were too fake.

A true god’s manifestation wouldn’t be so... theatrical.

"Nakut, my faithful follower." The "Ra" spoke, his voice booming like thunder throughout the room, but Ian keenly noticed a hint of unnatural tremble in the voice.

Like someone deliberately lowering their voice.

"You have been chosen to carry out a sacred mission, I will grant you a Holy Artifact to guard it."

So-called Sun God Ra spoke.