DATSOTBT Chapter 1: Your Sword Faints at the Sight of Blood

 | Table of Contents | Next | 

A magnificent and grand palace, towering and majestic temples, a bridge spanning the Euphrates River, and merchant ships crossing the seas.

The vast empire of Ancient Babylon dominated the world map, stretching north to the Taurus Mountains, east to the Zagros Mountains, south to the Persian Gulf, and west to the Mediterranean Sea.

It was like a mighty adult lion, intimidating all around, unstoppable, and devouring its prey!

Yet, more than the strength of Babylon’s army, what struck terror into neighboring nations—what made them tremble and speak his name in fear—was the madman who sat upon its throne.

His body was sinking.

Bit by bit, as if submerged in water, the sounds and lights around him blurred, fading into darkness.

Luo Lai floated in a daze, his entire body feeling soft and powerless, with no place to land.

His body was being reassembled—it was an odd sensation.

A beam of light shone down upon him, yet his body remained stiff and rigid, like a frozen ribbonfish.

What’s happening to me?

Is this… a dream?

Dazed and struggling to wake, Luo Lai suddenly felt someone touching him.

A slow, casual touch, but… it felt strangely pleasant.

However, it wasn’t just a part of his body being touched—his entire body was as hard as a rock.

It was as if a hand was brushing against a wall, except he was the wall.

Hmm, that actually feels kind of nice…

But even though it felt nice, he knew the hand stroking his shoulder and waist didn’t belong to a girl.

He could clearly feel the calluses, scars, and scorching heat of the other person’s palm, the sheer strength and broadness that only a man possessed.

As the man continued to run his fingers along his surface, the light above intensified, and the floating sensation gradually faded.

Luo Lai heard voices speaking loudly. With effort, he forced his eyes open!

"O King! I beg you to revoke your order to continue the war against Assyria! Do not take more slaves!"

"The south is plagued with famine and disease. The slaves have revolted multiple times. Heavy taxes and forced conscription have driven the common people to despair. If we do not stabilize our internal affairs, Babylon will soon face destruction! O King—"

The moment Luo Lai opened his eyes, he realized he was high up—atop a grand staircase, within a palace adorned with towering stone pillars.

Below him, a man dressed in a white, single-shoulder robe knelt on the floor, his voice trembling with desperate sorrow.

Behind him stood several other men in similar attire, their expressions tense with fear—many of them taking a few cautious steps away from the speaker.

Luo Lai was shocked.

Where… is this?

White-pillared palace? Babylon? And these people look like ministers…

Why is he speaking to me like this? Could it be—

Luo Lai’s eyes widened.

Did I transmigrate into some kind of ancient emperor?!

No way, seriously?!

A surge of excitement, like winning the lottery, rushed to his head. Just as he was about to say something, he heard a cold laugh above him—and felt someone stroking his body again.

Luo Lai’s smile froze.

…Wait a minute?

How dare they! I’m the emperor now—who has the audacity to rub my head like this?!

He turned his head indignantly—

And found himself staring directly at a man’s nostrils.

Luo Lai: ???

He blinked.

The man’s jawline was incredibly sharp.

And from this angle…

Luo Lai suddenly realized—he was lying on the man's lap.

Wait… does this mean I didn’t transmigrate into the king?

Did I… end up as some imperial concubine instead?!

No, no, no, no—

In a panic, Luo Lai hurriedly reached down to check on his little brother. But the moment he tried to lift his hand, his blood seemed to surge backward, freezing him in shock.

… What the hell?!

Where the f* are my hands?!**

He couldn't feel his hands. His legs? Oh, sh*t, my legs are gone too. And his face—

HOLY SHT HOLY SHT HOLY SH*T—WHERE IS MY FACE—

Wait. His face wasn't gone.

It was just… harder than before?

Haha, great! No, wait— NO!

That’s not the point! The point is—how am I supposed to live without hands or feet?!

Luo Lai sniffled sadly. Just as he was about to break down completely, the man who had been stroking his head suddenly paused and looked down at him.

Through tear-blurred eyes, Luo Lai glanced past the man's perfectly sculpted abs, counting the muscle lines as he traced upward to the man's face.

The man was bare-chested, reclining lazily against the throne.

His waist was wrapped in layers of white and blue fabric, held together by a belt.

His dark hair was slicked back, save for a few strands falling over his forehead. His bronzed skin stretched over a powerful, well-defined body, his muscles lean yet not overly bulky.

Luo Lai felt a stab of jealousy—how does this guy have zero excess fat?!

The sharp arch of his brows and the dangerous slant of his eyes made him look predatory.

His nose was straight and regal, and his lips, though full, were turned down in obvious displeasure.

By all standards, this man was young and strikingly handsome, his features carrying an undeniable arrogance and untamed wildness.

But what captivated Luo Lai the most wasn’t his sharp jawline or his sculpted face.

It was his eyes.

Eyes that were suppressed, restrained—yet brimming with bloodlust and madness.

The moment those eyes swept over him, Luo Lai felt a shiver of pure terror.

He had never seen a normal person with eyes like that.

Fortunately, the man soon turned his gaze away, distracted by the ministers speaking below.

Luo Lai sagged in relief.

So f*ing scary.**

This guy… Is he a lunatic? Or a straight-up killer?!

Luo Lai wisely kept his mouth shut.

“What we must do now is reduce taxes, pacify the rebellious civilians, and address the plague and famine. We must NOT launch an invasion against Assyria! Moreover, there is a troubling rumor—”

The minister, Bugafanti, kept his forehead pressed to the ground, his jaw clenched as if debating whether to continue.

The other ministers, knowing what he was about to say, turned pale with terror.

Even retreating wasn't enough to express their panic.

One by one, they fell to their knees, trembling violently.

The temple priests covered their eyes, sighing as they dared not witness what was about to unfold.

They already knew the fate awaiting Bugafanti for his reckless words.

Upon hearing this, the man on the throne let out a cold laugh—which quickly turned into booming laughter.

As his head tilted back, the golden earring on his left ear—adorned with a blood-red, diamond-shaped ruby—caught the sunlight, casting a crimson glow along his jawline and neck.

Though he appeared amused, those who knew him well understood that his laughter was nothing short of a death sentence.

To the ministers, that laughter was the omen of a devil’s wrath.

And true to form, the mad Babylonian king abruptly stopped laughing, his face turning icy cold.

Bloodshot eyes bore down upon the kneeling Bugafanti.

His voice was low and dangerous.

“Oh? And what exactly did they say?”

“Come now, let me hear it—let me hear what these filthy creatures, unworthy even of the dust at my feet, dare to say about me.”

The palace fell deathly silent.

Don’t say it!

For the love of the gods, don’t say it!

The other ministers and priests desperately shot Bugafanti warning looks.

We do NOT want to be dragged into this!

Bhagavant caught their fearful glances and let out a bitter laugh.

He was utterly disappointed in his cowardly colleagues.

Casting aside all hesitation, he lifted his head, meeting the king’s gaze head-on as he declared loudly:

“The Sword of the Wise King is a legendary sword—said to be the sacred weapon of the war goddess Ishtar. It was later bestowed upon the earth by the goddess herself and is destined to appear only beside a true Wise King.”

“Throughout history, the greatest rulers have possessed it. It was even recorded in the Epic of Gilgamesh! The great Hammurabi himself once wielded it!”

“But ever since Hammurabi’s death, the Wise King’s Sword vanished—only to reappear in Assyria.”

“Now, the people are saying that YOU are not the divinely chosen Wise King!

The TRUE Wise King will rise in Assyria—where the sword has appeared once again!”

“By stealing the Wise King’s Sword, you have committed BLASPHEMY!”

“The plagues and famines in Babylon? They are a punishment for your arrogance and vanity!”

“If you continue down this path, Babylon itself will be destroyed—

And YOU will be remembered as the most ruthless and FINAL tyrant in Babylon’s history!”

The angry voice echoed through the palace.

The scolding directed at the tyrant’s face was so fierce that a few people fainted on the spot.

Those who remained wished they weren’t so physically strong—why couldn’t they faint too?

Bhagavant was breathing heavily. He had said it... he really said it…

I know I will die, but so what?

Suddenly, Bugafanti felt a sense of peace. He had done everything he could for Babylon. He had lived up to his late father, the former chancellor, and to the suffering people!

His voice, filled with a disregard for life and death, was deep and resonant.

It even stunned Luo Lai, who had no idea what was happening.

Even if he were a fool, he could tell that the man radiating a chilling aura of death was the true king. And if someone dared to speak to the king like that, judging by all the historical dramas Luo Lai had seen, that person was definitely doomed.

Wait… wouldn’t this enraged king execute someone on the spot?

Luo Lai's face turned pale.

Crap, I have hemophobia!

If the king, in his wrath, actually decapitated a minister right here, Luo Lai would absolutely faint the moment the blood spurted out!

And his hemophobia was severe—covering his eyes wouldn’t help because his imagination would scare him to death anyway.

What kind of body have I transmigrated into?!

Can I sneak away before anything happens?!

Luo Lai was panicking.

But what happened next shattered him even more.

The Babylonian king actually lifted Luo Lai up!

Lifted?

LIFTED!!!

Luo Lai’s mouth hung open, his jaw nearly hitting the floor.

Wait, what the hell is going on?

Am I not even human?!

Frantically looking around, Luo Lai caught sight of his reflection on the mirror-like floor…

The ministers were still ministers, and the king was still the king. But beside the king, there was no sign of himself.

Huh?

Where am I?

Luo Lai stared for a long time, then straightened his vision and finally realized something unbelievable.

It seemed—no, it was almost certain—maybe 80% or 90% sure that he was…

That sword in the man’s hand.

…Oh hoho, forget elegance and civility! Screw everything!

While Luo Lai was spiraling into despair, the man stepped down from the throne, exuding an aura of death, making the tall and young mad king seem like the reaper himself.

He was really going to execute the minister!

“Bugafanti! How dare you disrespect your king?!” The tyrant’s face was twisted with cruelty. “I will cut off your head, have the cavalry deliver it to your home, and then slaughter all your relatives and slaves—your wife, your children, everyone!”

Bugafanti, who had been ready to die, finally panicked.

His life didn’t matter, but his mother, wife, and children were still at home. According to Babylonian law, family members should not be implicated! This tyrant!

“Your Majesty, this is my crime alone! How can you—”

“How can I? Why shouldn’t I?”

The tyrant gazed at the minister, whose face had turned deathly pale, savoring the despair and regret in his eyes. Then, with a satisfied sneer, he raised the newly acquired Sage King’s Sword high into the air.

“I am the King of Babylon! Those who defy me deserve to die! Go repent in the Underworld, Bugafanti!”

Bugafanti’s pupils contracted. “No—Your Majesty! Please spare them—no—!”

The tyrant’s cold face showed no mercy.

At the same time, someone else was wailing inside the sword.

That was our poor Luo Lai.

He could already see himself piercing someone’s neck, severing arteries and veins, with blood spraying in large clouds, drenching him in red.

Luo Lai screamed internally: Aaaaaahhh! Dammit, I have hemophobia! Nooooooo!!!

The sword slashed down!

Bugafanti shut his eyes. I’m dead.

Meanwhile, Luo Lai’s eyes rolled back, and he fainted from sheer terror.

As he lost consciousness, something strange happened to the Sage King’s Sword.

The once razor-sharp, rigid blade silently softened.

So when the tyrant, using all his might, swung the sword down—

“Smack!!”

Instead of a decapitation, it landed like a huge slap.

Bugafanti clutched his burning face.

The Babylonian king stared at the floppy sword in his hand in shock.

The surrounding ministers were utterly dumbfounded.

Where was the blood-drenched execution? The rolling head?

We were all ready to mourn—why does this feel like a noble lady slapping an unruly suitor?!

T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍑🍑🍑