Chapter 1230
Old Ibn’s Past
Only after Eivass’s group entered the city gate did Eivass, inside the carriage, put down “Anxi,” the book he was holding. He looked at Old Ibn with some doubt, “Is this really effective?”
This was something Old Ibn had given him when they were just approaching the oasis.
Old Ibn had asked Eivass to recite the lines from the first chapter of the book. Eivass felt somewhat ashamed and modified the lines slightly to make them sound more natural.
He certainly knew what this thing was. It was like a religious classic, but in the desert, there was no religion that believed in the Savior of “Anxi”…
However, Eivass thought, this was normal. After all, this World truly had gods. Compared to a Savior in some illusory future, gods that were tangible and could grant power were more worthy of worship.
“It looks quite effective to me.”
Haina grumbled, “They’re all writhing on the ground like maggots, practically begging to kowtow.”
After Haina learned that the “Cake Maker” who had caused her immense shock was a Ritualist kept by the Lord of Clear Spring City, she felt a profound disgust for his colleagues.
Even though she didn’t hate them due to unfamiliarity, her heart had already fully understood what kind of twisted scumbags they were. There would never be a shred of compassion or leniency.
“You don’t know how much we value ‘Anxi’.”
Old Ibn chuckled, speaking with a mix of melancholy and reminiscence. “For families who could teach their children to read, the characters their children learned were definitely from ‘Anxi’; for all families, including slaves, the first phrase they learned, besides ‘Father,’ ‘Mother,’ and ‘Master,’ was generally, ‘The sky splits, the Indigo King breathes fire and descends from the sandstorm.’
“Every true Anxi person harbored complex emotions for this desert. It nurtured us, imprisoned us, and tormented us. Even though everyone believed in an afterlife to some extent, no one wouldn’t yearn for the arrival of the Savior who would lead us out of the desert. Because of those twelve absurd prophecies that had already come true, and were almost impossible to fulfill, many firmly believed that the first and thirteenth prophecy would also eventually descend.
“Perhaps only those esoteric cult followers who, like the Horus people, sought ‘Mith’… would not believe in the coming of the Savior.”
The old man sighed softly, exhaling a breath.
His somewhat cloudy, somewhat jaundiced pupils gazed at the kneeling crowd outside.
Like a wind-blown wheat field, people fell and kowtowed before them.
This was a place Old Ibn had walked before.
He had worked here, studied in the library.
He had almost become one of the “Water Crow Guards.” If not for a senior fellow student secretly advising him and making him take a Purified Faction oath… he would have also become one of those who created the Thirst Stones.
Haina looked a little pained and said softly, “Is this… is this not a bit wrong?”
“You don’t know, Master Dane, we Anxi people are just such stubborn souls.”
Old Ibn liked to address Haina by her surname.
Although Haina was of commoner origin, she was already a member of the Arbitration. Even though the Avalon Kingdom no longer existed, Old Ibn still treated Eivass and Haina with the same attitude he had when serving the Old Queen—the attitude of a former servant towards the little princess’s lover and the knight of the Arbitration.
The corners of the old man’s mouth curved slightly, as if in a bitter smile, a cold laugh, or perhaps sarcasm. “The kinder you are to us, the more greedily we crave for more, and the more dissatisfaction breeds; the more strictly you discipline us, the more loyal and obedient we become.”
“This…”
Haina frowned, speechless.
Old Ibn looked out the window, his pupils seemingly reflecting the sight of his own betrayal in the past.
His words became increasingly detached, as if he was indifferent to everything, as if this was how the world was supposed to be. Yet, just listening to him made Eivass’s heart ache:
“Slaves are just like that. If they aren’t trained like dogs, how can the masters feel at ease?
“If humans can think, they become humans. But the Lords don’t need so many humans. Most people are chickens, cattle, sheep, livestock, ants. They are the hot soup in the pot, the filth on the street, the blood stones on the altar, the burning embers at the bottom of the pit…”
Old Ibn, nearing the end of his lifespan and frail with age, narrowed his eyes slightly, appearing as if he had fallen asleep or drifted into a dream.
After a long while, he suddenly opened his eyes as if startled, mumbled two meaningless sentences, and his voice rose again. “Only when they know how to bite can they be trusted. Only when they are not too clever will the masters be willing to throw them a couple of bones.
“There are clever people… too. Anxi has the best craftsmen in the World, capable of writing five thousand eight hundred characters on a single knuckle bone—that’s the word count of ‘Anxi’; but if he fails to do so, or if he carves the knuckle bone incorrectly, his entire family will be buried with him.
“Anxi has peerless singers—forgive my bluntness, but even the great vocalists of the Iris Flower, alone, cannot produce such a magnificent and sacred sound. And such a performer, if the Lord wills it, can have her tongue severed at will as a memento. Or her chest and abdomen can be cut open to see if her lungs are larger than those of ordinary people.
“No one finds this wrong. Or perhaps some do, but they are dead.
“My Lord… you once said that the Lords initially only sought to protect the Remains of the Predecessors. They also had a sacred mission, like night watchmen holding torches.”
The old man said softly, “But do the night watchmen… truly wish for the sun to rise again? If the sun is not bright, they are the only light. When the sun rises, the flames in their hands are like a child’s play.
“I don’t know of any sacred mission, nor do I know what the Lords grant to bring rest. I only know… if all of this is not smashed to pieces, the heavens of this world will never see the light of day.
“You don’t know how many foolish people wish for the sky to no longer be bright. Simply because they have become accustomed to this life, simply because they have already received a ridiculous amount of light and fire. Simply because they have it, and others do not… so they hate a world that is brighter.
“To smash all of this, one cannot be gentle. Without the most extreme scolding and the harshest whipping, people will not rise.
“—And the prophecy of ‘Anxi’ is the best whip. It awakens people, making them look up in a trance… to see if the sky has truly dawned.
“…To see if this sky has truly dawned.”
Old Ibn repeated the last sentence.
His gaze flickered, as if he saw some hallucination, or as if tears welled in his eyes.
He looked at the kneeling people, as if he saw himself and his companions from the past.
—His senior fellow student, the person he once admired, was betrayed by his junior, Ibn’s nephew.
“…Aziz ibn Abdul.”
Ibn said slowly, “The reason that person was able to enter the Great Library to study Ritual magic was because I recommended him. He was a slave exiled from a city whose Lord had been killed and whose people were exterminated. My sister took pity on this child and adopted him.”
And in order to climb higher, he reported Old Ibn and his senior fellow student one after another—because their secret act of helping slaves escape was considered “stealing the Lord’s property.”
“At the time, I had no idea that the person reporting them was my nephew, my sister’s adopted son…”
Old Ibn said mockingly, “After we were expelled from the Academy, we lived in my sister’s house with our companions. We were planning how to secretly rescue those innocent people and righteous individuals chosen as Thirst Stone material and replace them with those sinners.
“At that time, we weren’t even planning to rebel against the Lords.”
Because they all knew what would happen to Clear Spring City if it lost its Lords.
“But perhaps to climb higher, or out of jealousy of my senior’s and my talent… Aziz ibn Abdul, who was still an apprentice, secretly collected evidence and, with the Water Crow Guards, caught us on the spot.
“They fought desperately to let me escape.
“And they were hanged on this road. Because they would rather die than reveal my whereabouts.
“My sister, Aziz’s adoptive mother… also died tormented by the Lord for harboring us.”
Hearing this, Zhu Tang fell silent, much like Mu.
His brow furrowed slightly, and only his tightly pressed lips and clenched fists indicated his boiling emotions at this moment.
Eivass slowly opened his eyes.
“If that is the case,” Eivass said, “then let this prophecy be fulfilled.”
