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    Chapter 166

    Nataek jumped up and threw the robe that was lying on the bed around his body. Since the Battle of Ur, the anxiety he had held deep in his heart gave a sign. Nataek sensed it — the time had come. As Nataek got up and fastened his belt, Medeus rose and opened the door. Standing there was a commander from the 3rd Infantry Division.

    “What’s the matter?” Medeus said, blocking the view inside the house with his body. The commander glanced inside, unconsciously checking if Nataek was there. Medeus turned further to block the view. At that, the commander bowed respectfully.

    “A report has come from the scouts. You need to come see it immediately.”

    Dressed, Nataek approached the door and grabbed Medeus’s arm.

    “Is it news from the northern border?”

    “Yes, Sir.”

    War’s misfortune strikes without warning and abruptly disrupts peaceful days. Nataek recalled what he had vaguely suspected. He gripped Medeus’s shoulder.

    “We must head straight to the meeting hall.”

    Medeus keenly sensed Nataek’s anxiety. On the way to the hall, Medeus gently squeezed Nataek’s wrist.

    “Nothing will happen.”

    Neither believed that truly. They both had reasons to watch the north carefully. But Nataek only nodded faintly and smiled dimly, silently accepting Medeus’s comfort. It was solace that could only be given just before facing reality.

    When they arrived, less than half the summoned personnel were present. Present were commanders and vice commanders of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd divisions. Medeus promptly received the report from the infantry commander.

    “Suspicious movements detected beyond the northern tributary. Scouts say two individuals, believed to be Hittite soldiers, approached the Kunga and came near the northern border.”

    The commander of the 1st Division folded his arms.

    “Egyptians or Hittites sometimes loiter near the border, but since they haven’t crossed it, there’s no cause to shoot or capture them for interrogation.”

    “But this method is clearly different from before. Since there were no such reconnaissance missions previously, we should keep close watch.”

    Nataek silently folded his arms, tapping them lightly with fingertips. The 2nd Division commander spoke.

    “Kish’s unification must have reached their ears as well. Perhaps strengthening the border is in response. Provoking the Hittites on this pretense is risky and could lead to a major war.”

    “Agreed. We’re still suffering from continuous wars. Grain reserves are depleted and casualties are high. Provoking them will only escalate conflicts unnecessarily.”

    “Furthermore, though internal affairs are unstable, Kish is now a strong nation with impressive territory and forces. The Hittite fools wouldn’t make foolish decisions. In numbers, we won’t lose.”

    They were unaware of the Hittites’ new weapon or that they might strike first.

    Nataek bit his lip as they debated leisurely. This was no time for peace; they should prepare for fierce battles soon. But suggesting that might provoke backlash. There was a limit to citing divine revelations. Nataek bit his index finger, feeling no stratagem to convince the soldiers of the Hittite threat.

    Medeus softly tugged Nataek’s wrist, mouthing silently, “Don’t bite.”

    Realizing what he was doing, Nataek quickly lowered his hand. Seeing this, Medeus offered another viewpoint.

    “They might be preparing for a full invasion. Kish’s unification would threaten them if they hadn’t yet fully consolidated. They may take action before we solidify.”

    “But we cannot show our hand first, especially with so many wounded after the Ur battle. If we kindle the sparks, dissatisfaction among Kishans will swell.”

    As civil debate heated, the meeting room door burst open. Samuagon entered with his cloak billowing. The serious meeting began, opinions flew, but the gap between Nataek and ancient views remained stubborn.

    “War damage and loss from the Guti in Ur is significant. Rebuilding the ruined city and tending the wounded require manpower. It’s best to avoid war if possible now.”

    One commander spoke; Samuagon was firm.

    “Now is the time to recover and strengthen unity. Our northern defense is strengthened well. Monitor the Hittite scouts but do not provoke. Do not give the northern fools an opportunity to encroach.”

    This meant not stirring conflict due to the burdens of internal recovery. Nataek fully understood, having seen Ur’s burning scenes and piled corpses. War inevitably brings disaster to both friend and foe. He had already exhausted his best means to overcome this crisis.

    “Ha
”

    When Nataek had blocked Samuagon’s victory celebration plan, he’d made the same excuses as the ancients now worried.

    ‘We need time to gather troops and let the wounded regain spirits. So, please postpone the celebration for now.’

    Not long after, with troops seeming ready, no call to prepare for the Hittite war could be made.

    As worries grew, Nataek sighed endlessly even after leaving the hall. A warm hand touched his shoulder.

    “Teresi.”

    Hearing Medeus’s calm voice, Nataek raised his gaze to the gray irises.

    “What are you worried about?”

    Medeus’s offer to listen eased Nataek’s anxiety. Although he hadn’t spoken a word, just that was enough to quell his unease—likely only possible from Medeus.

    But even if Nataek unloaded, Medeus could do little. Nor could Nataek ask for help. If Medeus rushed to support without knowing the full timing of the Hittite invasion, he might be caught in trouble.

    This predicament was due to inexperience. With only the Hittite invasion left, what was to come was uncharted territory for Nataek.

    He dared not open his mouth lightly. The sun was again setting. As they walked slowly, Medeus grabbed Nataek’s forearm and gently pulled.

    “Come here.”

    Medeus led the way. Nataek lagged behind, barely able to follow.

    “Where are we going?”

    “A place to ease your worries.”

    With that, Medeus pulled Nataek outside, beyond the market.

    Where was this place to hear worries, that it required coming all the way here?

    Eventually, they arrived at the gate of Kish castle. Medeus climbed the battlement stairs. The guard protecting the bastion immediately bowed upon seeing him.

    “Commander, what brings you here?”

    Still holding Nataek’s arm, Medeus motioned downwards.

    “I have something to check; wait below.”

    Without words, the guard quickly left.

    As Medeus climbed while holding Nataek’s hand, his own hand slid under to support Nataek’s palm. Ascending the stairs like this, Nataek felt strange—as if a princess escorted at a ball.

    He quickly switched his hand posture to support Medeus’s palm instead.

    “…?”

    Medeus noticed and glanced down at Nataek’s hand. Without stopping their walk, he returned his hand to the previous position. Nataek promptly lowered his hand again. Though trivial, he oddly did not want to lose the dominant hand position.

    Smiles crept to Medeus’s lips with each hand shuffle. Upon reaching the top, Medeus won the silent contest and firmly gripped Nataek to prevent him from pulling away.

    Medeus lightly pulled Nataek closer and said,

    “From here, you can see the northern landscape of Kish at a glance.”

    Nataek turned his gaze forward. The view suddenly spun around as a cutscene flooded his vision. Workers and slaves clattered as they worked on the canal, soldiers patrolled near the walls, and beyond them stretched the border and plains of Kish.

    As the cutscene ended, a glowing message appeared, and Nataek held his breath.

    [Main] ‘Final Battle’ story begins.

     

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