Rising Tensions

I lay on the floor, feeling the cold sand against my cheek. The rest of my body felt numb, and as I attempted to open my eyes, everything appeared blurry. I let out a grunt of pain, struggling to move, but my efforts were in vain. The sand beneath me was cold, possibly due to the nightfall, or maybe it was stained with my own blood. Regardless, I yearned to escape this place. Why had I been reincarnated? Ah, yes, it was to ascend to the throne and become a king. But what was my previous life like? Although I knew I had been reincarnated, I couldn't remember who I was.

"There's a boy bleeding! Someone call the guards!" I heard a voice in the distance.

Faint memories from my past began to resurface. It was all coming back to me, but there was a substantial gap in my recollection. What was happening to me? The rate at which I was losing my memories seemed to be increasing. Could it be due to added stress?

Multiple footsteps approached. "Dear God, it's the prince," exclaimed one of the guards.

I sensed myself being lifted. There was no way I would survive; I had already lost too much blood.

As the guards hurried to the palace of the king, a crowd gathered to watch them carry the boy with urgency. His body was covered with a sheet, leading many to presume that he was dead. People wondered why such haste was shown for a young boy. Upon reaching their destination, one of the guards hurried to bring the news to the new king, Nabopolassar.

"My king, we bring you terrible news. It appears that a couple of thugs have stabbed your son. We have apprehended them, and justice has been served, your majesty. We found 109 stolen silver coins in their possession," the guard reported.

The king stood, his face filled with concern. "Dear gods! Take me to my son," he said anxiously.

Together, the king and the guard rushed to the room where the other guards had laid the injured boy. It was one of the many rooms inside the king's palace. In Babylon, when someone was stabbed, hope was scarce, and they had to resort to alternative methods.

"Someone fetch the head priest immediately!" the king yelled.

His intention was for the priest to perform rituals and appeal to the gods for a miracle. While the existence of magic in this world was largely unheard of, the king knew better. If a creature or demon that had caused harm could heal him, then the opposite must also be possible.

During the king's reign, there were many religions. He had heard of the Egyptians and their peculiar cat gods, the Jews and their worship of a single deity, and in Babylon, the masses worshiped multiple gods, with Marduk being the most important. When the priests arrived, they appeared confused about the king's request.

"My king, I'm afraid there is nothing I can do to restore the boy's health. He is likely dead by now," the priest said.

"Nonsense! I know you can use magic to heal my boy!" the king shouted, appearing nonsensical to the guards in the room.

At that moment, the king's wife entered the room and dismissed everyone, including the priest. The guards obediently left, but the priest shrugged, indicating his displeasure at being ordered around by a woman. The room fell silent, with only the king and his wife remaining. She approached him and embraced him.

"When I was a young girl, my mother fell ill, and a blind, bearded traveler arrived in our town at just the right moment. He claimed that his god had sent him to our home, believing he was on a divine mission to heal my mother," the king's wife began.

"And what happened then?" the king asked.

"He miraculously healed my mother completely. Many villagers believed she was doomed to die, like others who had shown similar symptoms. If it hadn't been for that man, my mother would have perished, and we would have never met. He guided us out of that village to the nearest city. The next day, we learned that everyone in our village had been slaughtered and burned alive to prevent the spread of the sickness."

"We must find that man and see if he can work a miracle for our son," the king declared.

Both the king and his wife pondered this thought and nodded in agreement with each other.

—

The sun rose over Babylon, and several days had passed since the king had exhausted much of his resources in the search for the bearded blind man. He was beginning to lose hope, and each day felt longer than the last. The idea that his first task as king would be to hunt down an old man to bring his son back to life was something he never could have imagined.

"So far, our extensive search has yielded no results, but I've come across some information about miracles. The realm of the gods may not be as far-fetched as we once believed," the king muttered to himself.

He found himself in a chamber he called the "think room," a space he used for strategic planning. On a large table lay numerous scrolls and maps with various writings, evidence he had stumbled upon regarding magic. According to his research, only a select few humans were capable of wielding such power, but whether they could bring his son back to life remained uncertain.

"Your majesty," a guard wailed just outside the think room, "we have found him—the man you've been searching for."

"Excellent! Let him in," the king commanded.

As the door swung open, the sound of footsteps filled the room. A tall, average-looking man entered, accompanied by an older man and three guards. The old man had a beard but still possessed his sight.

"I thought that the old man there was the very old man who saved my wife and her family. It appears his eyes are fully functional" thought the king.

"I assume you are the individuals I need?" Asked the king.

"We have heard of your son and his tragic accident. I am Agrotes, and this is my son, Nutesh. We believe we have the ability to bring your son back to life, your majesty," Agrotes declared.

"Very well. Leave us, guards," the king ordered.

"But, your majesty, we must ensure your safety. We cannot be certain if they pose any threat," the guards protested.

"I appreciate your loyalty, but for now, leave us be," the king insisted.

Reluctantly, the guards departed, their eyes fixed on the two men. The king greeted Agrotes and Nutesh, and after the introductions, they made their way to the room where Nebuchadnezzar, the boy, had been laid to rest. The scent of death permeated the air.

"Listen, my king, this will be my first attempt at performing such a miracle, and only the second for my son. We will attempt to revive your son, but we require a substantial fee, of course," Agrotes informed the king.

"I am left with few options. Please, do whatever you can," the king replied, aware of Agrotes' hidden greed. The old man saw an opportunity to not only serve the king but also to amass wealth. His son stood silently beside him.

The king stepped aside as Agrotes and his son prepared for the ritual. One positioned himself on each side of the bed. Agrotes raised his hands, and Nutesh followed suit. A green aura began to envelop them, and the room was bathed in a radiant glow.

"I can't believe it. It's truly happening," the king exclaimed in awe.

Agrotes and Nutesh chanted in an unfamiliar language, their voices resonating throughout the room. Nutesh muttered something under his breath, too faint for the king to discern.

"What have you done?" Agrotes yelled.

His son smirked.

Suddenly, the room filled with blinding light, forcing the king to shield his eyes. When the brightness subsided, darkness descended. The bewildered king rose to search for his son.

"Hey, king," a voice called from the room.

The king turned to find Nutesh, the son of the old man who had captured his attention.

"I have brought your son back to life. Unfortunately, one life had to be sacrificed," Nutesh revealed.

The king turned, unable to locate the old man anywhere. It seemed as if he had vanished. Confusion filled the king's mind as he faced Nutesh, questioning why he would end his own father's life. Numerous questions flooded his thoughts, but above all, he wondered if his son was truly alive.

"My father was driven by greed, but I, too, am motivated by wealth. He was growing old and weak, unable to attain such riches. My powers surpass his, and as a king, you deserve reliability," Nutesh sneered.

"I see," the king muttered, realization dawning upon him.

"As you can see, your son—wait, he should have awakened by now. I don't understand. I've done this before. How can this be?" Nutesh suddenly halted, his expression turning perplexed.

While the king was fixated on his son lying in the bed, blood splattered across the room. Startled, he turned his gaze towards Nutesh, who fell to his knees, his head severed, blood spurting from the stump. The king, filled with shock, collapsed to the ground.

"What is the meaning of this?" the king exclaimed, his voice trembling.

In the room, the boy lay on the bed, seemingly unaffected by the turmoil surrounding him. The king, now on the floor, positioned himself near the foot of the bed, overwhelmed by fear. Soon, he heard footsteps—distinctive footsteps that brought back haunting memories.

"I've heard this before," the king whispered.

The footsteps approached from behind, but the king hesitated to turn.

The loud thump of a bulls hooves.

The sound reverberated through his ears, a reminder of the terror he had experienced. The king knew that it was the demon and shook in fear. To the king this is the first time he had appeared to him in such a short period. Gripping the back of his head, he pressed his face against the floor, resembling a coward surrendering to his deepest fears.

Air bursted out of the demon as if a bull were to let out a gasp of air through its nose.

"H how c can i help you" muttered the king.

Thump... thump... thump...

This time, the footsteps originated behind the king but inexplicably ended up in front of him.

"Did he ignore me?" the king pondered.

Uncertain if the demon's actions were a mistake, the king remained reluctant to glance in its direction. The fear of witnessing unspeakable horrors held him captive. The king's head remained bowed, his ears attuned to the ghastly voice that spoke in the distance.

"We pitiful humans are too weak to heal him," the voice whispered with a chilling tone, barely audible to the king.

"Your son has been restored, but the demon has plans for you. Nothing comes without a cost. Hee hee hee hee. Your life will be filled with misery, you foolish king," the ghastly voice declared.

The voice grew eerily familiar to the king, resembling that of the old mage, Agrotes. Curling up on the floor, the king felt the sun's rays piercing through the room. Although the curtains had been initially closed, they suddenly opened all at once. It was an impossible feat for four curtains on two separate walls to open simultaneously without any assistance. The king no longer sensed the demon's ominous presence and cautiously rose to his feet, scanning his surroundings. To his astonishment, he noticed a bearded skeleton crawling closer to him.

"Could it be that the demon revived the old mage? But there's no way he could be merely bones," the king contemplated.

The ghastly voice belonged to the resurrected old mage, who was controlled by the demon. Fear gripped the king once more as he observed the skeletal remains. Suddenly, movement emanated from the bed.

"Father, what happened?" Nebuchadnezzar, his son, had awakened.

—

The capital of the Assyrian Empire, Nineveh, was a magnificent city, renowned for its grandeur and wealth. Although some considered Assur to be the true capital, Nineveh surpassed it in every aspect. However, the Assyrians faced a significant problem—leadership. With the fall of their last king, Sin Sar was next in line to ascend the throne.

"Everyone, I understand that we are in troubled times, but for now, let us take it easy and relax," King Sin Sar addressed his subjects.

"But, my king, the Babylonians have just announced their new king, and they are likely to rebel with greater force against us," declared Balashi, the king's highest-ranking general.

Balashi was a formidable man, renowned for his strength and merciless tactics on the battlefield. His reputation as a ruthless warrior had spread far and wide.

"My king, I predict that their next move will be to strike one of our major cities," spoke Hillalum, one of the ten strategists in the king's service. His peculiar appearance, with large front teeth protruding from his lip, made him easily recognizable.

"You fool! Our greatest threat lies in the west, against those wretched Egyptians. We should be more concerned about them," proclaimed Nidintulugal, the second most influential figure after the king and one of the two top strategists among the ten.

"It would be wise to consider both as viable threats and focus our attention on both fronts. Although it may seem foolish to fight two wars at once, we are caught between a rock and a hard place, Your Majesty," said Baassiia, the head strategist, a tall, older man with a scar across one eye, his expression stern.

"Is that so, Baassiia? I can always rely on you to provide the wisest counsel. However, despite these challenging times, we must not burden ourselves with excessive stress. Perhaps a banquet is in order? I am feeling quite hungry," King Sin Sar suggested.

Sin Sar, a king known for his girth, struggled to sit down on his chair after lengthy discussions. Many in the room considered him a lazy ruler, but no one dared to voice such thoughts, for fear of immediate death.

"Moreover, I have heard from one of you about the new king, who made Babylon his capital. What was his name again? Napo nebo nelas lassar?" the king pondered.

"Nabopolassar, Your Majesty," someone in the crowd corrected.

"Ah, yes, Nabopolassar! They say he is a clueless idiot. We have nothing to fear. I cannot comprehend how someone like him could rise to become a king," Sin Sar remarked.

As the king leaned back, sighing with relief, someone opened the enormous doors to his chamber.

"Sir, pardon the intrusion. I bring both good and bad news," a guard announced.

"Give me the good news first," the king demanded.

"My king, we have received news that the Babylonian king has lost his son, and he is currently using substantial resources to find a way to bring him back to life," the guard informed.

"It appears that idiot has lost his mind even more than we imagined. Continue," the king interrupted.

"The bad news, my king, is that we have suffered many casualties on the western front against the Egyptians," the guard reported.

"It seems we must strike while the iron is hot. Your Majesty, I suggest we mobilize more forces to the western front and against the Babylonians," one of the strategists proposed.

"May I suggest we use my 70-30 rule? We send 700 forces to the west and 300 to Babylon," Balashi suggested.

"Hmm, I like that, but let's only send half of that to Babylon. Those fools will never prevail against our might," proclaimed King Sin Sar.

Many strategists in the room readily agreed with the king's decision, asking minimal questions. Despite his laziness and weight, the king's sharp wit was not to be underestimated compared to that of the Babylonian king. The strategists began devising a plan to catch the Babylonians off guard, while the more skilled strategists focused on advancing their position on the western front against the Egyptians. The king, however, paid little attention to the planning.

"Look at these slaves doing my bidding. All I have to do is give them orders, and they do all the hard work. I wouldn't get far as king without them, so I better keep them satisfied. Ha, the idea of me, a king, pleasing these people...as if," the king thought to himself, smirking.