Chapter 388: Isis suspicious

“Regardless, Sekhmet, you cannot fight there,” Isis said calmly, her voice a measured blend of reason and authority. The weight of ancient oaths pressed invisibly between them. “If you unleash your wrath upon that place, you may very well reduce to ash the very city Alexander once swore us to protect when he sought our aid.”

Sekhmet’s eyes flickered with restrained fire, her clenched fists trembling by her sides.

“What do you think humans will believe of us gods,” she said, “if we so blatantly cast aside our promises? If our words are as fleeting as the wind, why should they ever trust in our divine presence again?”

A scoff rose from Isis’s throat, but it faltered halfway. She lowered her gaze, conflicted. “Since when do you care what humans think?”

Sekhmet didn’t reply. Silence fell, heavy and pensive.

“What matters now,” Isis began again, her voice quieter, more solemn, “is Alexandria—and Alexander’s legacy. The city will remain intact, so long as we keep our distance. If we intervene directly, we risk setting fire to the very foundation he built.”

She turned her gaze toward the distant horizon, as if peering through time itself. “Cleopatra will reclaim what was always meant to be hers—Alexander’s throne. She carries his blood, his will, his ambition. The boy-king on the throne now is weak, incapable. But Cleopatra… she will rise. She is destined to become a Pharaoh greater than any since Alexander himself.”

Nathan listened intently, his breath caught between disbelief and curiosity. The way Isis spoke of Cleopatra—it was almost reverent. Was it admiration? Devotion? He couldn’t help but wonder.

She speaks of her not as a ruler to be installed, but as a woman to be uplifted.

It reminded Nathan of something. Or rather, someone.

Khione.

The connection between Isis and Cleopatra seemed strangely similar to the one he shared with Khione—a bond beyond mortal comprehension, rooted in shared strength and silent understanding. Supportive. Unshakable. Perhaps even sacred.

Now that he thought of it, Cleopatra always seemed to hold Isis in a special regard. Unlike other gods, she didn’t spread her prayers thin across a pantheon. Her devotions were singular, absolute—directed only to Isis. And Isis, in turn, seemed to watch over her as a guardian more than a deity.

While Nathan pieced this together in his mind, Sekhmet’s defiance began to crumble, worn down not by the logic of the argument, but by the woman delivering it. They were, after all, the same words Nathan had once said to her—but Isis was different.

Sekhmet respected Isis.

More than that—she feared her. Not for her power, but for her unwavering presence, her ancient dignity. There were few beings in existence who could look Sekhmet in the eye and remain untouched by her ferocity. Isis was one of them.

“Do as you wish,” Sekhmet muttered at last, her voice low and grudging. She turned away, her figure beginning to shimmer, the flames in her aura dimming as she prepared to leave. But just before she vanished, she cast one last glance over her shoulder—toward Nathan.

Their eyes met, locked for a moment.

A faint smile tugged at Sekhmet’s lips. Barely noticeable, but real.

Interesting.

That was the word forming in her mind. He was… fascinating. Not in the fleeting, curious way mortals sometimes were. No—he stirred something long dormant within her. A familiarity. A challenge.

The last time she had encountered someone like this… it had been Alexander himself.

But Nathan felt even more compelling. Less a reflection of the past and more… a possibility.

“Nathan,” she whispered to herself, engraving the name into memory.

And then she was gone.

Leaving Nathan alone in the fading light with only Isis.

“Now you,” Isis said at last, turning her piercing gaze toward Nathan.

Her tone was neither warm nor welcoming—just cold, clear, and impossibly ancient, like a glacier frozen under the desert sun. Her eyes, glowing faintly with divine light, narrowed on him.

Nathan didn’t respond immediately. He stood tall, composed, his guard subtly raised—not out of hostility, but caution.

“What are you doing to my Empire?” she asked, her voice sharpened like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath. “Everywhere you step, you leave behind echoes of chaos. One conflict after another. Now tell me, plainly—what is it that you’re planning?”

Nathan’s expression didn’t flinch. His eyes remained steady as he answered, his tone calm but edged with steel. “I’m not planning anything, Goddess. The Princess of Tenebria was kidnapped, and the one responsible fled into your Empire. I’m here to retrieve her. If anything, I should be the one questioning you—what are you planning? Or… is this abduction something you had a hand in?”

A subtle shift came over Isis—her posture straightened ever so slightly, and the air around her seemed to grow heavier. Yet she remained composed, her features serene despite the underlying threat in his words.

“Such insolence,” she said softly, though her voice carried the weight of mountains. “Is that arrogance something you learned from Aphrodite? Or perhaps it’s Khione who whispers such pride into your ear… Or is it both?”

Nathan didn’t blink.

“I’m not here to start a war,” he said, his voice lower, more measured now. “The only reason I support Cleopatra is because I seek an alliance—between Tenebria and the Amun-Ra Empire. That’s all. Nothing more.”

Isis tilted her head, studying him with an unreadable expression. “An alliance, you say? How… noble. But do you truly believe I will accept such a thing?”

“Whether you accept it or not,” Nathan said, his eyes narrowing, “it isn’t your decision. The future of this Empire lies in Cleopatra’s hands. She is Pharaoh. It is her will that will shape the course of history—not yours.”

There was a long pause.

Then, Isis stepped forward. Slowly. Deliberately.

“I am the divine protector of this Empire,” she said, her voice now filled with a regal authority that echoed through the air like the peal of temple bells. “I raised Cleopatra. I sheltered her. I guided her steps from the moment she first drew breath. If I ask her to obey, she will.”

Nathan felt that truth settle deep in his chest like a stone. He couldn’t deny it.

A single night of passion with Cleopatra… that wasn’t enough to challenge the sacred bond between her and Isis. No matter what personal closeness he might believe they shared, it could not compare to the unwavering devotion Cleopatra had for the goddess who had watched over her since childhood.

To Cleopatra, Isis wasn’t just a deity—she was a maternal figure. A source of strength. A beacon of guidance.

Nathan knew then, clearly and without illusion—if he wanted to secure the alliance, he would have to convince Isis first. The path to Cleopatra’s heart and throne still passed through the goddess’s judgment.

“So then,” Nathan said carefully, “was it also you who gave Ptolemy permission to form an alliance with the Light Empire?”

At that, Isis froze.

The silence that followed was telling.

No denial. No defense. Just the stillness of withheld truth.

Nathan’s lips curled into a faint smirk. He had struck the mark.

“You didn’t,” he said, his voice cool with revelation. “I thought so.”

It all made sense now.

Isis’s silence wasn’t mere evasion—it was admission. She hadn’t authorized Ptolemy’s alliance, perhaps because she couldn’t reach him the same way she reached Cleopatra. Or perhaps, more likely, she simply didn’t like him.

That alone said volumes.

Isis’s favoritism wasn’t just about love for Cleopatra—it was about control. Influence. Stability. She saw in Cleopatra not just a rightful heir, but a vessel through which the Empire could return to divine alignment. Through her, Isis could exert the will of the gods and preserve the ancient balance.

This wasn’t just a matter of lineage or birthright. It was strategy.

Control of the Empire through Cleopatra’s rule.

Nathan finally understood.

This wasn’t just a political game.

It was divine war through mortal vessels.

And Isis, calm and quiet as she seemed, had no intention of letting her Empire fall into the hands of a weak boy-king… or the influence of a foreign power like the Light Empire.

Cleopatra wasn’t just a Pharaoh to her.

She was the last safeguard.

“So let me ask you now,” Nathan said, voice low but firm, “what do you really think of the Light Empire?”

Isis paused before answering. When she finally did, her tone was different—measured, thoughtful, but cool.

“I still think better of them than I do of Tenebria.”

Nathan frowned. “Why? Because of the Demon King?” he asked with quiet disdain. “He was corrupted—twisted by a corrupted god. And now you lay the sins of one man on an entire kingdom? That would be a shallow judgment coming from a Goddess. Immature, even.”

Isis didn’t flinch.

“The Demon King is gone,” Nathan continued. “Azariah sits on the throne now, and under her reign, Tenebria has done nothing but extend a hand in peace to its neighbors. The old era is over.”

“Perhaps,” Isis said. “Even if I accept that… I still don’t trust you.”

Nathan arched an eyebrow. “You don’t trust me?”

Isis nodded once. Her eyes, silver and ancient, studied him with divine scrutiny.

“It’s Hera,” she said. “She vanished. But before she did, the last time I spoke with her… she told me she was preparing something. Something against you.”

Nathan was silent for a moment, then chuckled softly—though there was no amusement in the sound.

“You think I did something to Hera?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I don’t believe you have the strength to defeat a Goddess,” Isis admitted. “Not alone. But the timing of her disappearance is… suspicious. Perhaps Aphrodite helped you. Or Khione. But would they go so far for a human?”

Her tone was calm, but Nathan could hear the blade beneath it. She was circling the truth.

She didn’t know about Amaterasu’s involvement. That, at least, was something Nathan could be thankful for. The less Isis knew, the better.

Nathan’s expression hardened.

“I don’t care what you think I did,” he said coldly. “But if the Amun-Ra Empire intends to stand against me… then I might as well change sides right now.”

There was a pause.

Nathan’s next words struck like a dagger.

“I could kill Cleopatra.”

Isis’s eyes widened. For the first time, her composure cracked.

“You—”

“I’ll ally myself with Caesar,” Nathan cut her off sharply, voice ice-cold. “The Roman Empire would gladly welcome my help. Together, we’ll conquer the Amun-Ra Empire. And when that happens, you’ll have no influence left. Not over Cleopatra. Not over the throne. Not over anything.”

The air around Isis shimmered with divine pressure. Her silver eyes darkened with fury—glimpses of storms flashing behind them. Murderous intent radiated off her like desert heat.