He and It Chapter 138: The Serpent of Pharisee (4)

Chapter 138: The Serpent of Pharisee (4)

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: GaeaTiamat

 

“Your…painting,” the priest stammered and gestured. “Cannot, anymore, be given. Gods are angry. You…understand?” 

Xie Ning was puzzled and stared at him in bewilderment.

After the Phoenician invention and simplification of letters, 22 Semitic consonants were introduced to the ancient Greek city states. The ancient Greeks invented vowels based on them, and improved it into 24 Greek letters, and at the current time that script should already be close to the prototype of the later abc’s. Having that knowledge, Xie Ning was full of confidence, and thought it shouldn’t be difficult to learn the local language. However when he took a look at some clay tablets, he realized that he had overestimated things and was completely dumbfounded.

Circles and dots, horizontal and vertical strokes; they held the shadow of hieroglyphics, and were also like the cuneiform legacy. Bullshit abc’s! Skywriting was more like it! [In case you haven’t seen it, cuneiform, the oldest form of the written word, looks basically like chicken scratch. I would guess he’s looking at something like Linear A, the oldest written form of language in the Greek world. Also looks like chicken scratch. No one knows how to read it. [/efn_note]

Xie Ning had no choice but to recognize his current illiteracy, throw away all his previous knowledge and start learning from scratch. Fortunately, the language environment wasn’t bad, and after a few days of exposure, he could recognize the common, everyday words in a few books.

Right now, listening to the priest’s words, matched with his body language, Xie Ning could only understand “you,” “painting,” “can’t,” and “gods.” Everything else was like white noise that slipped smoothly past his ears.

Xie Ning shook his head. He still didn’t understand.

The priest was furious, and he exclaimed, “Thou heir of the Great Gods, how can you and your people’s lives be jeopardized for the sake of short-sighted love? You know that the honorable and majestic Gods are far above your father and mother!” 

He collected Xie Ning’s paintings and put them in a pile in front of him. Xie Ning finally understood. He was asking him not to give paintings away.

Why? His mouth skewed into a frown. He was very dissatisfied.

Everyone likes it. I also like to get their feedback. I don’t ask for money, it’s a free gift…

Xie Ning wasn’t happy, but under someone else’s roof, he had to bow down and put the paintings away in a huff.

Setting aside that unpleasant incident, his life there was quite good.

The townspeople treated him well and he lived with the temple priests, eating roasted meats and bread, along with cheese and milk laced with honey, at every meal. Even though the roast meat only had a few spices and salt for flavor, the bread was sour, and the cheese and milk tasted fishy. Considering the level of food production for this era, it was more extravagant than delicacies from the sea.

In terms of clothing, the clothing of the era was very strict regarding form, and designed to show the beauty of the natural human body. Wearing and taking clothes off was done very casually. Although the natural textile materials scratched and made his body itchy, he just lived with it. It wasn’t a big problem. One evening, he saw a dusk so beautiful that he drew a group portrait for the palace maids. They were so happy it was like they were drunk on wine, and they made a beautifully embroidered belt for him, overnight, as a return gift. He didn’t care if his cuffs and collars were torn, but many of the people who accompanied him insisted on repairing them for him.

Generally speaking, the climate of Ancient Greece was warm and dry, with lush forested areas and so much sunshine that it seemed as if one could spend a lifetime of summer here. Just painting, painting, painting, with a city-state of people who encouraged him to paint, and praised him for painting…He really couldn’t think of a more wonderful life, except for the fact that he missed his family and his hometown like crazy.

Time flowed like water, and three months passed in a flash. In order to maintain his persona, Xie Ning still didn’t speak, but he could understand what most people said with a little bit of guessing, which worked quite well.

Unfortunately, days of peace never last long. Just as he gradually began to adapt to life there, the city of Iolcus was visited by two messengers, which shattered the small city-state’s happy and harmonious atmosphere.

They were messengers from Cilicia, with a directive from another king, asking for tribute.

Having stayed there for a few months, Xie Ning had learned a great deal about Iolcus.

Three years ago, the mighty king of Cilicia, Kostas, launched an expedition against this city-state. [Cilicia was located in southern Anatolian in Turkey. The eastern part sits at the base of the Tarsus Mountains and has a large coastal plain and some major cities. Cilix was the mythological founder – Poseidon as his father is the author’s addition. Poseidon is the God of the Seas. Grumpy god. Prone to drowning ships and people. [/efn_note] As he had “the blood of Poseidon,” he defeated Iolcus’ army, killed five of Aeson’s sons with his own hands, plundered a lot of gold and jewels, and at the same time, also made a contract with this small country near the sea: every three years, the King would send three noble royal relatives to Cilicia as “an offering to Echidna.” After the war, the plague took the lives of five other princes.

As for the eight heroes, none of them were nationals of the city-state. They were close friends of the princes who died in the war, and all of them had sworn to defend the unfortunate city in the place of their brothers before their deaths.

After he inquired about the situation, Xie Ning’s first thought was, Was the fertility rate in ancient times really so exaggerated? 

He’d watched the movie “Troy.” ¹ The backstory said that the king of Troy had 50 sons, and he’d thought that was just unrealistic. However, when he came here, he found out that this king had 15 children! Even if you had one child a year, it would take you fifteen years. Even if you had three children at a time, it would still take you five years!

The second thought was that the ancients were really pompous.

Poseidon’s bloodline…what kind of superstition was that? Then to ask the defeated country for hostages, and make up some bullshit about sacrificing them to a monster. Did those guys have a Minotaur and the Labyrinth too? ²

In the main hall of the palace, the king received the messengers. His face was pale, and the queen pressed her hands to her chest to keep the tears from her eyes. At that moment, the two messengers stood under the throne and swore that the king would fulfill his promise to uphold his honor.

“I had fifteen sons, fierce and strong, young and beautiful,” the old man murmured. “I loved them more than my life. But five of them died on the field of battle against your country’s invasion, five from the ensuing epidemic, and four chose to go on a great expedition to appease the gods’ anger against Iolcus. That leaves me only my youngest son, always obedient and as precious as the golden crown on my head. I also have a daughter, whose fame has spread far and wide among the neighboring nations, and how many kings, and how many sons of kings, and how many heroes who have outshone the king, would be honored to take her for their mistress. She is so fair and beautiful, so pleasing to Apollo, that the God gave her the power of prophecy, and she is precious as a gemstone in a golden crown.” 

The old king burst into tears and said, “As king, I should keep my word, as did my mighty forefathers. But as a father, and an old man with gray hair, I beg your king’s merciful forgiveness, for I cannot afford to lose my son and daughter. I am willing to go into exile, to live in dishonor, even if the world scorns me for my treachery. Convey my words, I pray you, convey them!” 

How heart-breaking were his words, and a cry of grief arose from within and without the palace, but the hearts of the messengers were hard as iron. They laughed loudly at the old king’s emotional speech, and insisted that he must fulfill his promise.

“Do not cover the cowardice of your heart with flowery words, descendant of Telemachus!” they cried. “Why should the lion pity the frailty of lambs, who give their flesh and blood to the lion, because they have neither fangs or claws? Give us the people, and let us take them away!” 

Xie Ning and the priest stood in the shadows behind the stone pillars, watching the scene in silence.

They were temple dwellers, who, in the words of the priest, “could not participate in earthly affairs.” They could only hide there. However, Xie Ning was still worried about the king.

To be honest, when he came to this strange place, he was illiterate, with no knowledge of the language, and had no certificate of origin to identify his home country. The most probable outcome should have been that he would be treated by the locals as a runaway slave from somewhere, and would be put on a leash and sold in the marketplace. Even if he showed his skills, that would only make him a “talented slave.” Xie Ning’s current life was only possible because of good old Aeson. Since the king treated him as a savior, the people of the country treated him well.

If only I really were a God’s messenger, Xie Ning thought to himself. Then, when the time came, he would ask for a thunderbolt to strike the roof of the king’s house, so that those men wouldn’t be able to bully him.

He sighed again.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that. Heavenly Thunder wasn’t not a dog kept in anyone’s house to bite whoever it wanted. The priest had said that Princess Antheia was favored by Apollo, the Sun God, ³ but since a war in her homeland had nearly wiped out her country, which was followed by a plague, could she really ask for help from that fictional God? Plus she was still without nine of her ten brothers.

The priest commented sadly, “When strangers go to Cilicia, even if they were Herakles, they would not be able to escape from that perilous place. For they do not go for pleasure, nor for war, nor for honor, but for the cruel and deceitful Echidna. They will be buried in the belly of the serpent!” ⁴

Xie Ning heard but only half-understood what he said, but the gist of it seemed to be that that country, Cilicia, was just like Gotham. It also came with an Echidna, which resulted in outsiders having to go as sacrifice. Basically, it was dangerous.

Echidna, Xie Ning thought. It sounds familiar. When I took the sculpture class, didn’t I see that name somewhere? 

The situation didn’t allow him time to ponder any further. Inside the hall, the arrogant words and reckless attitude of the messengers had deeply angered the hero standing beside the king. Palaemon jumped up and his shout was as deafening as a lion’s roar.

“You insolent guests, how damned you are!” he cried. “By the name of my father, the river-god Achelous, I must hang you upside down from the gates of the city, and let the wild dogs and birds gnaw your corpses clean!” 

Xie Ning was shocked and held onto a stone column. He felt like the column was vibrating from the sound, not to mention the two messengers who were facing Palaemon directly.

As if a portent that a scene of bloodshed was about to take place in the palace, there was a clamor outside as two ragged and wounded heroes came running wildly into the hall.

They cried out and threw themselves at Aeson’s feet while they sobbed in grief, “O King, what sad tidings we bring thee! Your sons sailed to Thebes in a great ship, intending to revive the glory of the Seven Heroes’ expedition to Thebes, ⁵ but it was forbidden by Poseidon! We encountered a raging storm at sea, and the ship which carried the two princes was instantly crushed by a great flash of lightning. When the storm subsided, the two remaining ships, too, had disappeared into a fog, where they could not see the light of day.” 

With that, they took out their respective tokens of proof, one a broken purple and gold scabbard, the other a tattered jeweled belt.

The court fell silent, while the queen, with a mournful wail, clasped her daughter’s cold hand and fainted on the golden throne.

The aged king stood motionless. The blood boiled violently in his veins, his teeth chattered, the crown fell from his head, and his white hair fluttered fearfully. His eyes became distant. The old man didn’t say a word, not a single word, but as he fell backward, his sword collided with the ground, and made a great noise.

Xie Ning was still numbly holding the column, body and mind greatly shocked.

It turned out that the fate of a person, a family or a country could be reversed so easily, just like a boat cast in a storm. These messengers had entered the palace in only two moments, but the people of the city-state were completely overwhelmed by a flood of grief.

The messengers from Cilicia were temporarily imprisoned. The women of the palace dressed in the black veils of death, and the people ceased to drink and sing, as they mourned with all their hearts the unfortunate death of the princes, and perhaps of their beloved king. Aeson was bedridden and his breathing was feeble, a result of the blows he had received one after another. 

Only this time, there was no fruit of Pan to save his life.

For a time, the outside of the temple was surrounded by people who came to plead with Xie Ning, the boy Aeson called Dorus. They saw him as a child of a God, and hoped that he would go back to his father and ask him to save the troubled nation.

Xie Ning was at his wits’ end. He had no idea what to do.

I’m just a stinky painter, he thought sadly. I want to be related to the Gods you believe in so that I don’t appear to be so deceitful, but I really can’t do it.

At that critical juncture, with the king in a coma and the queen in agony over the loss of her sons, the young princess had to take on the burden of governing the country. She asked her young brother to attend to her father’s bedside, while at night she knelt down at the shrine of Apollo and prayed to him for forgiveness or a good omen.

“I cannot believe that this sudden misfortune is something we deserve.” With tears in her eyes, she pleaded with the Sun God who had always favored her, “Have you forgotten how faithfully I have served you? Apollo, the archer, the protector of noble men, have mercy on the people of this country, for I would gladly exchange the talents you have bestowed on me for the peace of my brother and my father, even if it were so precious that it was worth more than my life!” 

At that moment, Apollo lowered his golden-haired head. With a single glance, his gaze pierced through millions of miles of clouds, from the golden palace on Olympus, to the infinitely remote earth.

Yea, I see, He thought darkly. Sweet daughter of Aeson. It is not that I do not pity thy tears, but that thy country hath taken in a strange traveler, whose feet are upon the solid earth, and whose body flows with the time of ages. One who hath thrown himself upon it, and whose presence  hath stirred up the Threads of Fate in uneasy confusion. He hath made the fate of Iolcus obscure, which I could not have foreseen. ⁶

Antheia stretched out her snow-white arms, and touched the knees of the divine statue. She, with her nectarous scent and her long hair as black as ebony, was so radiant, that she softened Apollo’s heart at once. [/efn_note] It didn’t take much for anything good looking to soften Apollo’s heart. He was a huge playboy. [/efn_note]

“Have mercy!” she said, and her mind suddenly cleared, as if a fog had lifted. A kind of curiosity filled her so strongly that Antheia couldn’t help but voice out the question buried deep in her heart, “Is the young man my father calls Dorus truly the descendant of a God or not? I know not why, but I have always been troubled by sorrow regarding him. If he were truly the offspring of a God, why would he allow such a dreadful doom to descend upon us? If he is not, he is an impudent liar and a villain. Apollo, if thou dost still love me, let me see the truth! Tell me, is that boy the son of a God?” 

After the princess said that, she took courage and bade her maid release a dove to be used for divination. Apollo cast his gaze down. As the dove flew up into the air, in an instant a great eagle flying on fast wings swooped by and crushed the poor white dove.

At the sight of this extremely evil and ominous omen, Antheia was pale and dizzy. She covered her forehead, and collapsed in despair into the arms of her maid.

“Liar!” she shouted angrily. “The most despicable, the most shameless liar is no better! How have you won the hearts of the people of the city-state by masquerading as the descendant of a noble god? What have you done? That the fruit of the God Pan may have been stolen by you. You appeared before my poor father in such a manner as to make him believe in you, and to make my people worship you like a god. How is it that there should be such a despicable, contemptible man in the world?!”

By this time Antheia had no doubt that the calamities which had followed were caused by Dorus. He had stolen the fruit of the God Pan, and had aroused the wrath of the Gods, which had led to the death of her elder brothers, and to the summoning of the vulture-like messengers from Cilicia.

Antheia rose to her feet, her heart filled with vengeful anger. The princess rushed into the inner room, drew out the shining sword that hung on the wall, which was a gift from her brother, and wielding the weapon, she immediately started for the temple to cut the head off that liar.

However, she was stopped by her aged nursemaid, a cunning old woman, loyal and devoted, who regarded Antheia as her own daughter. When she saw her mistress in such grief, she immediately felt immense hatred for Dorus, and conceived of a poisonous plan.

“Daughter,” said the old woman. “Calm yourself and listen to me carefully! You will do your country no good by killing him, and your father, when he wakes up, will probably blame you greatly. Let him follow the messengers of Cilicia instead! Since he calls himself the son of a God, he will be more desirable than three royal clansmen. We will offer him alone to the King of Cilicia, and to the fierce Echidna. No one can fault that.” 

Antheia’s anger subsided, and she hesitated only a moment before agreeing to her nursemaid’s plan.

“You’re quite right, only he won’t go away willingly, the liar,” Antheia said darkly. “Go to my trunk for that incense.  My lady friend, the daughter of the river god Sangas ⁷  gave it to me as a gift. As long as the incense is lit, it can make the greatest heroes sleep. We will do this tonight.” 

After commanding her nursemaid, Antheia put on her cloak and hastened to the abode of Palaemon, the greatest of the eight heroes. He was the most renowned of the eight, so therefore she would make him an accomplice in the deed.

Palaemon was astonished at the sight of the princess, who had come at night and alone, but before he had time to inquire the reason, Antheia had thrown herself down before him, and embracing him as she knelt, cried, “O son of Achelous, in the presence of your father, the river god, and of your noble mother, I beseech you to save this country!” 

Then she told Palaemon the result of her divination, and the conjecture driven by her own conviction. When she saw the hero’s doubting expression, Antheia said, “Hear me, son of Achelous! On the honor of my dead brothers, as well as my own honor, I assure you of the truthfulness of the oracle. Verily, Apollo answered me thus! With these hands, instead of proffering the olive-branch of request, I touch thy knees with them. Take the liar away and let him pay for his deeds. Let him be buried in the poisoned mouth of Echidna, and save us from the scourge!” 

Palaemon was silent. Inwardly, he didn’t want to believe that it was true. He thought of the youth’s skillful painting, as if he were possessed by a spirit, and which could not be praised enough; of the strange clothes he wore, such seamless fabric that wasn’t to be found in the mortal world; and of the beauty of his misty smile, which the people loved so ardently. Was it not a result of his goodness and softness, and the kindness he showed to the people? 

But Apollo’s oracle carried more weight than a mountain of iron evidence, and Palaemon had to believe, he must believe.

He helped the princess up and whispered, “I promise you, Princess, I will do it. If it be the will of the God, so be it.” 

Antheia was satisfied, and smiled gratefully. She immediately summoned her slaves, and ordered them to organize all the goods that Dorus had received from her father to send with him to Cilicia as a burial offering for the liar.

Then she descended to the prison. The messengers, too, were open-mouthed at Antheia’s beauty, for she lit up the dim cell as she stood there.

“I have chosen a sacrifice for you!” The princess declared in a stern voice. “He is more honorable than the members of the royal family. The young man is the son of a God, willing to give his life for this country for the sake of honorable ideals, and to fulfill my father’s promise and appease your king’s wrath.” 

She presented a rich list of gifts, containing ten brocaded robes, ten oxen, ten cooking pots, five mina of gold, five carpets, and five splendid tripods. When the messengers saw the list of costly gifts, they stared in amazement.

Antheia commanded them, “Take him. His name is Dorus! Moreover, to protect this gift, the great Palaemon, son of Achelous, will sail with your ships, as a sign of our goodwill toward Cilicia.” 

The messengers bowed their heads in acquiescence, and did not argue. Earlier, they had thought they were going to die there, but now, having received an offering of semi-divine birth accompanied by rich treasures, they had nothing to complain about.

.

Smoke and incense. Deep in a senseless sleep, Xie Ning was rolled into a blanket by the old woman. Just as she was about to carry the person secretly out of the temple, the nursemaid saw the sketchbook at his bedside. The desire for beauty roused a kind of greed in her heart, and she took the liberty of stuffing the sketchbook into her clothes, then ran to the coast with wings on her feet.

The oracle couldn’t be ignored or delayed, Palaemon knew that, so he had jumped on Cilicia’s ship early, and was already waiting to escort Dorus.

Under the cover of flickering torches, he saw the old woman arrive carrying a roll of blankets, and couldn’t help but notice the deep crease in her brow.

“Leave it to me,” he said. He couldn’t criticize Antheia for what she had done. It was a very gentle punishment for a liar identified by an oracle.

The nursemaid was about to leave, when Palaemon’s eye caught sight of the sash on her chest. The hero suddenly reached out with his free hand and grabbed her firmly by the collar.

“Old maid, do not do what you will regret,” he said grimly. “That is not yours, and even if he is a liar, it does not justify you stealing it.” 

All at once, her face reddened with shame. She hastily took out the sketchbook, and, with the pen still stuck in it, handed it over to Palaemon, then ran away without looking back.

With a son of a river god there, the east wind aided them with a large, smooth breeze. The ship carrying Xie Ning to Cilicia soon set out, sails full, arrowing towards their destination. The people of Iolcus remained unaware of the event, and King Aeson was in a coma, unable to judge the outcome of Antheia’s swift and decisive action.

.

Xie Ning was awakened by the crashing waves.

What’s going on, he thought dazedly. Has the prince turned into a frog and his bed into a cradle? Or is it an earthquake, and I’m resting on my bed with a spoon in my hand? 

“You’re awake.” 

A low male voice came from his side. Xie Ning struggled to open his eyes. Immediately he had a splitting headache, and couldn’t help but suck in a breath of cold air.

However, what he saw was not his bed or the dome of the temple.

Where am I? He was immediately alert, and finally realized that Palaemon was sitting not far from him, as he spun a dagger in his hand.

Why was he here? Why is this place so bleak? It’s shaky, it smells like the salty sea, and the wind smells like sour wood…

The sudden realization caused Xie Ning’s eyes to widen.

…I’m on a ship?

“You are not a messenger of Pan,” Palaemon said slowly. “Apollo’s oracle has revealed that you are not a descendant of any of the Gods.” 

Xie Ning was still in a state of shock when he heard those words “Apollo’s will,” “not,” “gods,” “messenger,” and so on. 

The other shoe, it seemed, had landed.

It’s true. I’m not the so-called son of a God, and I was just lucky that those berries could heal. I’ve been cheating you for three months, so let’s just say I’m an uninspired rice worm! Anyway, I don’t have the skills to survive in the wild. The truth was the truth, and it would have been exposed sooner or later.

However, Xie Ning’s heart still ached.

He couldn’t find his way home, and after three months, he had unconsciously put all his feelings in that kind and simple city. He was genuinely happy with the recognition and affection of the people, and he would never forget that it was the old king who had taken him in and given him a place to stay when he was down and out.

“The Princess Antheia has made a decision,” continued Palaemon, seeing the way his eyelids trembled. “She has resolved to banish you. To send you to Cilicia in the place of her kinsman.” 

After he struggled to translate those words in his head, Xie Ning was simply thunderstruck, his expression shocked.

Antheia is sending me to Cilicia? She’s sending me as a sacrifice? In just one night’s time she decided to send me on a ship to Cilicia? 

Why doesn’t…why doesn’t it make any sense? 

He was full of grief, but he could not utter a word to ask why he was headed to Cilicia.

Antheia was the king’s daughter, and though he hadn’t said, “I am the son of a God!” He had been a favorite for a long time. In a society with slavery, he could really have been expelled from the capital city with just a word, forced to wait for death in the wilderness.

What could he do now? The ship had sailed, and he was drifting on an endless sea, guarded by a man who could kill an ox with one punch…Xie Ning’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t lift his hands. His mind was a mess. He could barely speak as well as a 5 or 6 year old, so how could he convince Palaemon? Was it possible? 

He sat in the cabin with his head down, and lost all courage to defend himself.

His uncovered identity has disrupted all Xie Ning’s arrangements. His original idea, when he first arrived in Iolcus, was to concentrate on building his own reputation. In polytheistic areas, the religious atmosphere was very strong. No matter whether it was painting or sculpture, in the temple there was never a lack of opportunity to work. He intended to wait until he became one of the known world’s most famous painters, had saved up enough capital, then repaid the old king’s generosity, and turned to traveling around the world, as he looked for a way to get home.

However, Xie Ning was now lost in a lonely sea. The future was uncertain, and the lovely picture he had woven for himself was a fragile bubble, with only a colorful and wonderful afterglow left once it broke.

The sea was as smooth as a mirror, and the ship was escorted by a steady wind, so after only a week’s sailing the messengers’ ship arrived at its destination, the rumored powerful, arrogant and violent kingdom of Cilicia.

When they disembarked, Palaemon, who had been silent all the way, quietly unclasped the gold-embroidered himation he had been wearing, draped it over Xie Ning, and wrapped it around his hand, which was clutching his sketchbook.

“Whether you are a liar or not,” he said. “I will always be lenient with the dying. I’ll plead with Kostas to leave you alone, and to treat you in a way that befits your current status.” 

With the voice of a hero on his side, Xie Ning was really in a much better position than the others. The young boys and girls who had also arrived, and were crying and hugging each other, were all hostages of countries defeated by Cilicia. No matter how noble a prince or princess they were, they were all bound like livestock waiting to be slaughtered as they were lined up to be sent to the Arima Palace, the legendary Echidna’s residence, ⁸ which was out of the sight of heaven and earth.

In fact, after entering the land of Cilicia, they had only one identity left, that of slaves of King Kostas. He was a powerful, violent king who had swept over nations, and indeed wouldn’t be kind to his slaves.

Xie Ning walked at the head of the procession. He didn’t have his hands tied, but still had to wear a strong, heavy rope around his waist, which linked him to those behind him. As he walked, his appearance, which was very different from the others, had already attracted a lot of surprised looks from the soldiers guarding the sacrifices.

Yes, yes, yes, he thought glumly. I’m just so shriveled up, skinny and meatless. Satisfied? Have you seen the diversity of the species? Can you stop staring now? 

He pursed his lips in anguish, while behind him the royal children, all of them, lamented and wept at the cruel fate they were about to suffer. They couldn’t stop cursing Kostas and that godlike monster. One of them forced his way through the soldiers’ blockade, as he swore that he would be the lowest servant of the King of Cilicia for the rest of his life, if only he would not be sent to that palace in the earth. However, even with such a humble prayer, he was still not allowed to leave.

In contrast, Xie Ning didn’t cry. He didn’t even open his mouth.

He knew in his heart that the monsters, ghosts and gods were all nonsense. If the Cilician people really just sent them to an underground palace and did nothing else, then he would be a little relieved.

In the meantime, several princes of Cilicia had come as masters to see the first “son of a God” to be sacrificed in three years. They shouted contemptuously, as they ordered their servants to come forward and harass him in order to make Xie Ning reveal his family history. Thus they could show their own superiority, since they claimed to be the descendants of Poseidon, and were the first of the Cilicians to do so. As descendants of Poseidon, only the gods on Mount Olympus could compare with their lineage.

However, Xie Ning never said a word. He pretended to be mute and deaf, even when a stone thrown at him split his forehead, and blood fell into his eyes and stained his vision red. He continued to stubbornly cling to his sketchbook like a clam with a pearl in its shell.

Fuck you, he thought. I owe it to the people of Iolcus to be sacrificed on their behalf, but what kind of evil creatures are you? I will die out there, I’ll even jump in, but I won’t show my paintings to the people of your country. You aren’t worthy of them. 

However, there were people of that age who were actually of good character. Even though the royal family behind him and around him were troublesome, many of the bystanders were willing to stand up to Kostas’s sons when they saw them insulting him, and they made a big scene. If Xie Ning hadn’t been the one who was beaten up, he would have been in a better mood.

Three days passed like that. Then, Xie Ning, wearing Palaemon’s cloak, followed the long sacrificial procession, and was escorted through the entrance of the underground palace by soldiers.

Strangely enough, at the entrance of the underground palace, the steps weren’t complete.  In the center was a straight, slippery path, with many cut marks on it, while simple stone steps flanked each side. Once a person who entered went down the steps, even if they didn’t scream miserably, if they happened to fall down, it would cause almost all the people behind them to tumble down with them.

Xie Ning’s palms were sweating. He didn’t know what was going on. Was there really something to fear, or was this a torture trap set up by the Cilician people with the stone steps, in order to give the people kicks? 

The sound of crying and complaining was endless. Xie Ning trembled with fear. He couldn’t care less about his dislike for the smell, he took deep breaths of the fishy, rotten air coming up from the ground, while his palms were still sweating as he stepped on the first step.

Then he froze.

A real, treacherous vision instantaneously unfolded before his eyes. Among many crumbling stone pillars, scattered skeletons, endless gold and mountains of treasure, Xie Ning saw a shadow, half-lying there as it stared at him.

Its exposed top half was that of a man, while its sinuous lower half was a serpent. It had long curls of smooth black hair, its brown skin was draped in jewels, and tattooed with many complex and brilliant gold patterns. Even on its ebony lips, there were little inverted gold marks.

The creature’s face was that of a god or a demon, while beneath its deep brow was a pair of eyes, brilliant like a broken sun, which held no regard for joy, anger, or sadness, but gazed upon him with a craziness that cracked the heart.

So ancient, primitive, barbaric and debauched. It was half gorgeous and half hideous, half innocent and half sinful, half perfect and radiant and half filthy and rotten.

He knew, at last, why the other people were desperate, why they were screaming. The steps were the medium, and the moment they first stepped into the realm of the dungeon, they all came face to face with the true master of the place, the creature known as Echidna.

For the first time since coming to that world, Xie Ning moved his lips in a trance, and awkwardly spoke.

“Beautiful,” he said. “Truly, you are beautiful.”