To Four Thousand Years Later

—What a tragedy that is.

It is not so much a war as a massacre.

People rushed out of the woods, ran away from the thick smoke, and then fell down with arrows.

I don't know where the enemy is, how many there are, and what I should do—in that kind of panic and confusion, a large number of people were killed by the rain of arrows.

Some people were shot by arrows, and small streams of blood gushed from the wounds, and they lost their breath for a short time. But they are the lucky ones. What is more painful is the kind of people who failed to hit the vital point with the first arrow, struggled in pain, and waited in fear for when the arrow rain would take their lives away.

The torment of the unknown, especially the fear of death itself.

As the arrows of the soldiers behind Benaya gradually decreased, the sound outside the forest became more and more silent.

When all the ten arrows in the quiver of the people were shot, there was already a mountain of corpses in front of the forest.

"Cough, cough..."

An Egyptian infantryman coughed and just rushed out of it when he kicked something heavy, and his body couldn't help but staggered.

But before he could adjust, he stepped on something again. This time he finally fell and hit the ground.

"hiss…"

He looked down, cursing, gasping for air.

The moment he saw clearly what it was that tripped him up, he felt as if time had frozen.

—It's a corpse.

It was the corpse of a colleague.

Judging from the injury, it should be that an arrow hit the left neck and fell to the ground. Two more arrows were shot in the left waist and the right back, and blood soaked his back—this should be the cause of his death.

The corpse had a ferocious face, and one could feel his pain just by looking at his expression.

"How, how could..."

The soldier gasped, feeling his hair go numb and his bones instantly cold.

He panted heavily, and crawled backwards trembling all over, feeling as though the dirt picked up by his nails seemed to be covered with blood.

But before he could crawl out a few steps, the hand that stretched back touched the still warm skin.

His movements froze immediately.

"Ah... ah..."

He made a slight nasal sound like weeping or moaning. When he joined the army for the first time this year, when had he seen such a scene?

don't want to die.

don't want to die.

No matter what, I don't want to die...even if I beg for mercy...

He didn't even dare to look back. See if the man is dead or alive.

"-you."

At this moment, he felt the cold metal pressing against his throat, and a low and slightly awkward voice sounded from behind: "Throw away the weapon, take off the clothes, and lie on the ground with your head in your hands."

…is the language of Egypt!

The recruit immediately held his breath and didn't dare to move. After a long time, he threw the weapon on his body far away with trembling hands. It was like throwing something that would explode.

"very good."

Satisfied, the voice withdrew the sword from his throat. The soldier gasped for breath and collapsed to the ground.

"You kid, haven't you ever killed anyone?"

The voice taunted: "Sure enough, it's just what Wang said, it's just a pretense...but the horse is real."

But this time the recruits couldn't understand what he said.

He just shook his head desperately, pointing to his ear and gesticulating something. He was kicked aside with a gentle kick.

While taking off his clothes, he carefully looked up. Only then did he realize that it didn't match the thick voice—it was a short and strong young man who was threatening him with a sword.

But just before he finished taking off his clothes, behind the man suddenly there was a strong brown-skinned man shouting angrily and ejected from the ground.

He had been shot twice in the back by arrows, but neither was serious. At least they avoided the critical point.

But at this moment when he tensed his muscles, the wooden arrow was broken by him, leaving only the arrow embedded in the flesh, twisted and deformed by the muscles. The black lines embroidered on his face also instantly lit up at this moment!

That's...the deputy commander of the Seth Legion? !

The recruit was taken aback and fell to the ground trembling.

The deputy army commander who jumped up from him shouted angrily, pulled out the dagger from his waist as if he had forgotten the pain, and attacked the short and strong man in front of him.

The whole sneak attack process was like lightning, not even a second. But the unattractive man seemed to have eyes behind him, and easily dodged sideways, reaching out to hold the sword of the army commander.

There was only a creaking sound, and the sword was directly snapped off by his iron-like left hand!

Immediately, he punched the deputy commander in the face, and just as he staggered back two steps, he was kicked to the chest, kicking him directly to the ground, coughing in pain, as if he wanted to cough up his internal organs .

"I don't know what's good or bad."

The man snorted coldly, raised his knife and wiped his neck cleanly with the dagger, understanding his pain.

Even the deputy army commander...can't defeat this man? !

The recruit trembled and didn't hesitate anymore, but immediately took off the rest of his clothes, lying on the ground trembling, holding his head in his hands.

The man ignored him, but kicked the sword on the ground a little farther, and then told the people around him: "Keep an eye on these captives. Don't kill them unless they act suspiciously. Wait for the king's order."

"Yes, Marshal."

The nearby soldiers responded one after another.

The recruit saw many people shuttle back and forth along the mouth and nose in the thick smoke, and some people were brought out by them taking off their clothes and clearing their weapons, and felt that their brains were in chaos.

How...how did they lose?

It is obvious that the number of people on one's own side is the majority. It is obvious that the two sides have not yet started a formal battle, fighting on the battlefield...

How come, lost?

"Kill me! Kill me—"

At this moment, the recruit heard the sound of howling ghosts and wolves.

He suddenly turned his head back and looked up at the source of the voice.

—That was the enemy who brought them here, Hadad the Edomite who led them here.

He watched the Israeli soldiers surround him, and desperately shouted in the crowd: "Kill me! Kill me!"

Just as a soldier raised his sword, Binaya arrived just in time and stopped him: "Wait...stun him, let the king decide."

Hearing this, the soldier behind him immediately turned the hilt of his sword, took a step forward and struck him on the back of the head with the hilt, causing Hada to faint, and then replied loudly: "Yes!"

This kid might be a talent.

Benaya glanced at him and asked, "What's your name?"

"Yes, my name is..."

"His name is Kira, and he is nineteen years old."

Solomon's gentle and peaceful voice came from behind Benaiah.

As his voice sounded, a strange gust of wind hit immediately

The reason why it is said to be a weird squall is because it has a strange stench in it. The wind was strong enough to blow away the smoke with ease, sending their hair flying without suffocating them.

Looking back, it was the three of Solomon riding on the steed.

Queen Yastaru also puffed up her face and made a cute blowing movement... It looked as if the unprovoked gust of wind was blown by her.

In less than a few seconds, the thick smoke cleared away. The trees near here are covered with speckled black crystals. Just by looking at it, it felt abnormally cold, and the thick smoke was completely absorbed by these crystals, no longer obscuring the vision.

Focusing on Solomon, the surrounding vision became clear. The smoke was driven away by him and sent back to the dense forest.

"Long live my king!"

Marshal Benaya immediately knelt down and responded.

Behind him, the generals who were one level lower than him also knelt down and said loudly: "Long live my king!"

Then all the soldiers. They knelt down at the same time, and cried out: "Long live my king—"

The shocking cry made the captured Egyptian soldiers tremble with fear.

Solomon looked over at the fainting man surrounded by the crowd, and glanced at his bright red business card.

— Hada, thirty-five years old.

"What's wrong with this man?"

Solomon questioned Benaiah, who was kneeling on the ground.

"He has been clamoring to kill him. I think there is a fraud in it, so I spared his life. Please decide..."

Benaya said in a low voice: "You said that we will not give the enemy what he wants."

"That's right, Benaya."

Solomon walked forward as if nothing had happened, and raised his hand to signal everyone to get up.

But when he passed by Hada, he paused slightly, raised his right hand and swung backwards. Benaya hurried over.

"He said he wanted to die."

Solomon said flatly: "Satisfy him, Benaiah."

There was hardly any pause, and the sound of the blade piercing into the body came from behind immediately.

"—as you wish."

Binaya's sword pierced Hada's chest, kneeling on the ground with his head bowed and said respectfully.