Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 144

Chapter 144

“Please, avoid anything that might offend him.” The servant spoke softly as he led the way. He was an Ur man working in the mansion. The closer they got to Lagab’s quarters, the more his fear seemed to seep into Nataek.

“Yes. I will.”

Nataek rubbed his lips as he answered.

He had asked for a blessing, yes—but not to be left in such a state. In that short time Medeus had kissed so fiercely that Nataek’s lips still gleamed with undried saliva, and faint teeth marks lingered. He pressed and parted his reddened lips repeatedly as if trying on gloss.

Meanwhile, the servant halted before an imposing set of doors.

“I’ve brought the damgar.”

“Let him in.”

At the gravelly order, the servant carefully opened the door. With a subtle nod, Nataek stepped inside.

In Sununki, the Guti were savages who couldn’t adapt to city life—unsettled, with rough tastes unlike townsfolk.

So Nataek couldn’t help being startled upon entering Lagab’s quarters. From the censer at the entrance drifted smoke of herbs and frankincense; the fragrance pervaded the rooms. The bed, the woolen carpets, the display cabinets—every bit as luxurious as Delam’s.

In short, the interior taste matched that of wealthy city folk. There were animal pelts thrown over chairs as decoration, but that alone didn’t justify calling it barbaric.

“Come here.”

Lagab stood near a table, examining a blade. When the metal flashed under the light, Nataek’s heart dropped.

Why is he staring at a knife…

He approached slowly. Sensing the hesitation, Lagab looked over, then slid the knife into its sheath as if realizing something.

“Ah. I was clearing the table.”

On a chair pulled out from the table lay a sword and a few odds and ends, as if he had swept clutter off the tabletop and set it there. Relieved, Nataek came nearer. Lagab pulled out a fresh chair and sat at the table.

“Delam’s goods have been disappointing lately. Can I expect something better from you?”

Setting the bundle on the tabletop, Nataek answered, “I hope you’ll find something to your liking.”

Lagab shot him a sidelong look and gave a greasy smile.

Why is he looking at me like that?

Nataek forced his face to hold, then returned a stiff, crescent smile.

Up close the pressure was immense. Lagab’s forearm alone was nearly twice the width of Nataek’s thigh. Taller than Medeus, he looked to top 2 meters; his charcoal‑dark skin bore long scars everywhere, and a wild beard made his already fierce face look harsher.

Don’t tense. Slow and steady. This is what a spy faces. You expected as much—be calm.

Nataek had always, by choice or by circumstance, stayed beside Medeus. Without him now, and with Lagab so close, waves stirred in his chest. He forced himself steady. As his hands worked, the cloth bindings came loose and glittering treasures lined up across the surface.

“Please look at your ease, and ask if anything interests you.”

“Hm…”

Lagab’s thick fingers wandered, then tapped a ring set with a red stone.

“Try it on.”

Nataek lifted the ring slowly.

His fingers are too thick; it won’t go on the index. The little finger?

He was reaching toward Lagab’s hand when—

“Not me. You.”

Startled, Nataek drew back and offered another stiff smile.

“Jewels look different on each wearer. To judge fit, it would be best if you tried it yourself…”

“I said you try it.”

Lagab fixed his oily yellow eyes on Nataek.

“Even if you peel off the outer shell, you should still wear a few trinkets for the eyes.”

Nataek froze.

What does that mean? It’s odd enough to ask me to try my own wares—‘peel the outer shell’? ‘Eye candy’?

“I said try it.”

His face twitched into a scowl. With no choice, Nataek turned the ring toward himself. The words clattered around in his head, but instinct flashed a warning.

This is going off. Keep sharp.

In the muddle, the ring drifted toward the ring finger. As the metal touched that fingertip, Medeus flashed in his mind—the reddened rims of his eyes. Reflex kicked in; he slid the ring past the ring finger and onto the middle finger. Even if only for show, it felt wrong to slide a ring onto the ring finger.

His hands were not thick, and the ring was generously sized; it slid on smoothly.

“Hm. Suits you.”

The fish‑eye stare raised gooseflesh.

“He’s famous for his ravenous appetite for sex, taking men and women alike.”

He doesn’t… see me that way, does he?

This was Nataek’s first face‑to‑face with Lagab. He couldn’t tell if those eyes were normal for him or reserved for Nataek.

Damn it…

Moments stretched to ages. Nataek scoured his mind for anything useful from the Soothsayer’s lessons.

“Not every client behaves as you expect—that’s normal! Not everyone moves on your cues!”

“When it happens, steer the talk back where you want—that’s part of the craft!”

The conversation points kept skewing somewhere wrong. As he gently slipped off the ring, Nataek said,

“You seem to like red. Then how about this? If it need not be a ring, this necklace would suit you well.”

He set the ring down and reached toward a necklace strung with large stones.

“Is that so? Then put it on—around your neck.”

“Perhaps you should try it, Lord Lagab.”

“Do you not understand? I said put it on your neck.”

A sudden kill‑glint lit Lagab’s gaze, cold enough to chill the spine. He was the sort who could stab a man on a whim. Best to comply—now.

“Yes. At once. Then…”

He had just lifted the necklace when—

Knock, knock—

A knock sounded at the door. Both he and Lagab turned.

“Lord Lagab. Urgent news.”

At the husky voice from outside, Lagab twisted toward the entry, annoyed.

“Come in!”

The newcomer was another Guti—just as large, hood pulled low, and the sigil on his cloak seemed familiar.

Where have I seen that—?

“I told you not to interrupt unless I called.”

“My apologies. But it concerns Mari; I thought it best to tell you at once.”

The voice, like scraped iron, rang a bell too. Then it came—the memory of Ur’s gate:

“What do you sell? If you have fine jewels, bring them to my estate.”

“Will you keep him waiting? Come.”

The Guti who had been with Sibiera.

The same cloak, the same odd voice; Nataek recognized him at once.

“Mari?” Lagab leaned on the chair back, tilting into it.

“There’s a scuffle among the Ur men, and…”

The subordinate broke off to glare at Nataek—meaning he was in the way. Catching it, Lagab glanced Nataek up and down, then at the spread jewels. Nataek was about to excuse himself when—

“Those Ur dogs… lead on!”

Lagab clicked his tongue and sprang up, then pointed at Nataek.

“You—stay here and guard the jewels. Understood?”

Nataek shifted smoothly. “Yes. Understood. Go safely.”

Lagab stomped out with his man. Thud! The door closed—and only then did Nataek let out his breath. From the finger that had worn the ring to the body Lagab had raked with his eyes, gooseflesh prickled everywhere.

What was that? What did he mean by having me wear it? He couldn’t have…

“No—don’t overreact. Think plainly. Maybe he wanted a mannequin.”

It still hurt his head to spin the scene into sense.

“In any case, like this I won’t pry out his weakness; I’ll only hand him mine.”

He swept the room with his eyes. So much for winning him over with jewels to coax a talk—before starting, the flow had broken. Risking so much to come up here would be wasted.

He drifted toward a display. There, richly worked pottery with gems and gold abounded. As he watched the gleam, a thought struck.

In Sununki, there were several ways to gather clues: obtain a keyword and use it to question NPCs—that was his usual method, in and out of the game. Another was puzzle‑solving; he’d used that often too. The last was to get hands‑on.

Sometimes the story left you alone in an enemy’s room or secret store. Like in Delam, before he was to be sunk, finding those tablets in the library.

Had this been at the start of his drop into the ancient world—or the Delam conquest’s difficulty—the system would have lit the way with a glow or prompt. But at the highest difficulty, there was no hint.

He recalled the name of the quest that had appeared before coming up.

“Lagab’s Weakness.”

Seems like it’s time for me to move.

Reading the moment, he went quickly to the door, pressed an ear to it—silence outside. Dead quiet.

He set his back to the door and drew a deep breath.

Alright… Now’s the chance. Search.

Footnotes:

1. Mari – here a central commercial district in Ur (not the Syrian city), used by merchants; disturbances there imply political friction impacting trade flows. 
2. Frankincense and herbal smoke – signals a cultivated, “civilized” aesthetic in Lagab’s quarters, undermining the stereotype of purely “savage” Guti tastes within the narrative.