However, Alaric had no intention whatsoever of answering the Vizier's question.
In his eyes, although the man before him wielded immense power, he was no different from an ant.
Of course, this Vizier was a little different.
If other people were ants, then he was a maggot.
And the greatest difference between a maggot and an ant was that maggots… were disgusting.
Compared to ants, which at most were ignored, a writhing, pale-white maggot only made one want to crush it underfoot.
But in the end, Alaric did not do so.
Since he had promised Nitocris that he would teach her powerful magic and allow her to personally take revenge on all her enemies, he would not overstep and do it for her.
That, however, did not mean Alaric intended to let this man off lightly.
With a single Obliviate, Alaric wiped the memories of everyone present, cleansing away all recollection of what he had done.
In their memories, the Vizier had merely summoned the foreign bard favored by the female Pharaoh, issued him a warning, and then let him go.
There was no coveting of the Pharaoh, no plan of poisoning her.
Of course, Alaric had not bothered to carefully control the Memory Charm on people who were so obviously hostile.
Thus, it was easy to imagine that in the near future, these unfortunate souls would suffer from declining memory, forgetfulness, and similar troubles.
As for the Vizier himself, he had it even worse.
In his altered memories, he had developed a kind of "mania," and these female slaves were driven mad by his own frenzied abuse.
In the future, this "mania" would torment him constantly, making him volatile and prone to violent outbursts against those around him.
Such behavior would gradually strip away his subordinates' loyalty and reverence, replacing them with fear and hatred.
At the same time, this manic condition would render him incapable of rational thought.
In the past, he had been shrewd and cunning, weaving conspiracies to undermine the Pharaoh's authority.
But under the influence of mania, he would lose that intelligence entirely, becoming little more than a brute.
His allies would grow disgusted with him, and more and more flaws would be exposed.
In the end, even if Nitocris failed to master magic and enact her revenge personally, this Vizier would still, under the torment of his "mania," become increasingly isolated, abandoned by his followers, his power stripped away and divided among his peers.
For a man whose life revolved entirely around power, there could be no punishment more terrifying.
But for now, lost in the chaos of his altered memories, he knew nothing of that future.
Alaric, meanwhile, left the Vizier's residence without another glance.
When he swaggered back into the palace, the maidservants were stunned.
They had all believed that this pitiful man who had offended the Vizier would never return. Perhaps his future lay as a corpse in some slum of Memphis, or floating away down the Nile.
If he were lucky, he might have ended up in a Memphis prison, or simply been driven out of the city.
Yet here he was, back again.
Why?
Very quickly, however, they convinced themselves they had found the answer.
Since the man before them was completely unharmed, the only possibility was that he had reached some sort of agreement with the Vizier.
In other words, he had sided with those ministers who had betrayed the Pharaoh.
Such things were not without precedent.
Ever since the reign of Pharaoh Pepi, as royal authority was gradually hollowed out, the ministers' schemes had not always proceeded smoothly.
After all, aside from the Pharaoh, no one could maintain power forever.
Those lofty positions at the apex of the dynasty were constantly being climbed, and just as constantly abandoned.
Among those who reached the top were not all men aligned with the same cause.
Some of them had once been fiercely loyal to the Pharaoh.
Yet in the end, without exception, they either died, or were bought off, becoming accomplices.
Now, seeing that Alaric had not been killed, the maidservants assumed he too had been bought.
For a time, they were filled with pity for Pharaoh Nitocris.
After the death of her elderly "royal consort," she had finally found a lover, only to be betrayed almost immediately.
Unfortunately for these insignificant onlookers, Alaric paid their thoughts no attention at all.
He went straight into the Pharaoh's study and found Nitocris together with Medjed.
At the sight of Alaric's return, Nitocris sprang up as if a spring had been attached to her feet, rushing to his side and examining him from head to toe.
"Thoth, you… you're all right, aren't you?" the female Pharaoh asked anxiously.
Realizing she sounded overly concerned, she added awkwardly, "D–don't misunderstand. This is just… concern between allies."
A textbook tsundere.
Alaric immediately grasped the girl's true feelings and could not help but smile.
"Thank you for your concern. I'm perfectly fine… if anything, you should be worried about whether that Vizier offended me badly enough to get himself killed.
If that happened, you'd have one fewer target for revenge."
"W–who's worried about you?" Nitocris flushed crimson.
"This is just… proper etiquette for a Pharaoh! If… if it really were dangerous, accidentally killing the Vizier wouldn't be unacceptable either."
Despite her words, she was clearly a little disappointed.
After all, among all her enemies, the Vizier was the most important, and the one she most wanted to kill with her own hands.
Seeing this, Alaric comfortingly patted her head, along with her pair of jackal ears.
"Don't worry. How could I fail to consider the Pharaoh's wishes? I merely gave that Vizier a light punishment."
As he spoke, Alaric told Nitocris about the Vizier's disgusting actions.
Even without seeing it firsthand, hearing Alaric's account made Nitocris feel sick.
"To do something like that… to defile the Pharaoh's appearance… disrespectful… utterly disrespectful!"
Nitocris's face turned pale. Raised in royalty, her upbringing was so refined that she could not even bring herself to utter curses.
But Alaric thought that was just fine.
What was the point of verbal sparring?
This wasn't some street battle where you could shatter your opponent's mental defenses with insults and just queue up another round if you lost.
This was real power struggle, life and death, with human lives as the price.
If there was hatred, then killing the enemy was enough.
"If you find him so disrespectful," Alaric encouraged her, "then study magic properly, and take your revenge with your own hands."