Chapter 2 The King Will Die Within A Month

In the dim stone chamber, the candle lamp was carelessly placed aside. The blond - haired youth lay on the bed, his raised arm covering his eyes. His pursed lips revealed the turmoil in his heart. His name was Ormazd. Three days ago, when he was taken away by the guards, he was locked in a luxurious room. The room had everything, but there was no one there. Except for the guards who regularly brought him food and drinks, no one else showed up. There wasn't even anyone to talk to. One day ago, someone came to help him bathe and change into delicate, complex robes adorned with gold ornaments that he had never worn before. Still, no one told him what he was going to do. Until just now, he had completed the king's coronation ceremony. As a king, he should have been able to command the wind and rain in this land, be supported by thousands of his people, and live a life of ease where food and clothing were provided without any effort. However, the king of this country was not the traditional king in the long-standing sense. The king of this country was nominally chosen by the gods, but in reality, he was just a hapless person randomly picked. Normal people would avoid this position like the plague. This unlucky fellow was regarded as the gods' substitute on earth and was supposed to live another worldly life. So, he had to stay alone on the desolate Divine Mountain for a month. And even after that month, it wasn't the end. He would be publicly dismembered by having his limbs cut off first, and then be beheaded. And now, this year's hapless one was Ormazd, an orphan who had never been valued by his family since childhood. The youth lying on the bed suddenly sat up with a start and remained motionless, forcing a smile at the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, the youth slapped himself. "If I keep lying here, it's no different from waiting to die. I can't waste a single bit of this one - month time." Even in the pitch - black darkness, the tiny blue glimmers in his pupils couldn't be hidden. In this country, did every king die like this? After looking through the notes, Ormazd got an affirmative answer. No. Ormazd, who had grown up in a difficult environment since childhood, was not willing to die like that. There must still be hope! Ormazd opened the simple map and scribbled on it with a pen in his right hand. This map was clipped from the notebook he had just found - the king's notes. This mountain was not completely isolated. There was a city at the foot of the mountain. He had to go down the mountain. Maybe he could escape. There might be dangers on the way down the mountain. However, not going down meant waiting for death. Although they had prepared food and water for him, it would only last for a month. And after a month, it would be the death - day of him, this 'king'. Ormazd stopped writing and looked at the pile of supplies he had just moved in the corner. "Since it's death either way, being bitten to death by a wolf might be more comfortable than being sacrificed." Ormazd joked to himself and stuffed the map into the notebook. However, since he had decided to go down the mountain, he had to do more useful things. Ormazd leaped and in an instant, he was half - kneeling in front of a large pile of supplies, rummaging through the packages. The white robe got dusty on the ground due to his movements. He glanced at it indifferently. This robe was really in the way. The small knife flipped around his wrist. In the blink of an eye, the cumbersome hem of the robe separated from the rest, slipped down powerlessly, and piled up on the ground. He continued searching and suddenly pulled out a piece of clothing from the package. This piece of clothing was also spotlessly white, and its elaborate design made it look extremely holy. Ormazd suddenly thought the people were a bit odd-brained. This kind of clothing would be nice if he were in a palace, but this was a temple on a mountain covered with dust. However - fortunately, he still had a solution. He raised the small knife in his hand. There were several clattering sounds. The gold necklaces around his neck, the pure - gold bracelets on his hands, and the silver ornaments in his hair were all thrown onto the table by Ormazd in one go. He stood up to stretch his muscles. He was wearing the simplest white clothes - a white shirt and white trousers that he had modified in a bold way. His long golden hair was casually tied up. The young man was so fair that he seemed to be glowing, standing out against the gloomy and dark stone chamber. He took a few tentative steps. The sandals on his feet felt just so - so. A few thin straps bound his calves with beautiful muscle curves, which made Ormazd, who was used to modern sports shoes, feel quite uncomfortable. Ormazd tied a strap around his thigh under the shorts, where he could hide the small knife. This was his only weapon. Although it was obviously valuable, he couldn't take it out and use it casually in front of strangers. Most of the temple building consisted of winding paths, and there were not many rooms. He had only seen this one. Ormazd lifted his legs and walked steadily towards the outside of the temple. He held a candle - lamp in his hand, dimly lighting the way ahead. The stone - slab ground was uneven, so Ormazd could only gently support himself with his right hand on the wall. The rough texture of the wall slid under his fingertips. Wait! His advancing steps suddenly stopped. Ormazd took a few steps back, raising the candle - lamp in his left hand to shine on the wall - just now, his right hand had felt something strange. The area illuminated by the candle - lamp was limited, but it was enough for Ormazd to see the distinctive marks on the wall. The wall bricks in this part were newer than those in other places, and they didn't feel as hard. Instead, they felt more... brittle. Surprised by his own thoughts, Ormazd silently criticized himself in his mind. Ormazd: Hey, this isn't a cookie. What's with the 'brittle' description? No matter what the feeling was, Ormazd looked at the wall and quietly stepped back a few paces. There must be some secrets hidden behind this. His bent leg burst out with astonishing instantaneous force, like an arrow leaving the bowstring. In an instant, his calf made contact with the wall. Boom. Ash billowed everywhere, and the wall that had been intact a moment ago turned into countless fine powders. "Ouch!" One second Ormazd was trying to look cool, but the next, he was hugging his calf, groaning softly. He remembered that he was wearing exquisitely - woven shoes. With tears still in the corners of his eyes, Ormazd pouted and peeked into the hidden room he had kicked open. No, this wasn't a hidden room. Realizing this, Ormazd's heart calmed down. Soft soil surrounded him on all sides, and water droplets dripped from the cracks. The further he went into this passage, the narrower it became, restricting Ormazd's movements. This was a secret passage, and it wasn't built by the same people who built the temple. Was this the way down the mountain? A way for some former king to escape? Ormazd had some guesses in his mind, but he didn't show them on his face. He pursed his lips and knitted his brows, his delicate features showing a solemn expression. His advancing steps stopped again. After seeing the scene in front of him, the left hand holding the lamp dropped a little. In the boundless silence of the secret passage, his blue eyes showed an expected look. The young man's lips parted slightly: "Sure enough, I knew it wasn't going to be that easy." Deep in the dark secret passage, the path ahead came to an abrupt end. Sitting cross-legged with its head hanging down, the corpse was wearing elaborate robes identical to the ones Ormazd had worn before. The long - dead person still looked almost like a living one, with its black eyes wide open in anger. It was likely that some king in a certain year tried to dig this secret passage to escape but ended up trapped and dying here. However, even a corpse could be of use. Suppressing the disgust in his heart, Ormazd pinched his nose and rummaged through the corpse. His right hand touched a piece of paper in the pocket. He quickly picked it up and stepped back far away from the corpse. [In the 327th year of the Solar Calendar, I, as the king, am going to die. There's no escape. I'm bound to this land. I can only die as a king, but I don't want to die.] In the end, he still died, didn't he? Ormazd silently clenched the note in his hand. The golden sun mark on the back of his right hand seemed to glow in the darkness. He lowered his eyes, his fine eyelashes quivering. It was as if he was talking to the corpse, or perhaps talking to himself, "You died, but I won't." "I will become the true king, the master of Aurashan who can control my own destiny." He walked forward slowly, knelt down beside the dead king. His boundless blue eyes, as vast as the sky, blinked as he stared at the wide - open eyes of the deceased. "I won't follow in your footsteps." The hand with the golden mark on the back touched the other's forehead and gently slid down, closing the eyes of the departed. Tap, tap. The sound of footsteps echoed in the secret passage. The solitary young man didn't look back. As soon as Ormazd stepped half out of the secret passage, he suddenly felt like burying himself. The words he had just spoken echoed in his mind at that moment. A shy heat rushed to his head. His steps were so chaotic that he almost got dizzy. Running around in a fluster, Ormazd bumped into the wall with a thud, and a big bump appeared on his forehead. Ormazd helplessly covered his head. Jingle The soft sound of a ringing bell came through the thick stone wall from outside the temple. Ormazd, who had been covering his head just now, instantly woke up. "Someone's coming!" With a quick turn of thought in his mind, he straightened up and ran towards the room.