162

[Plato's Passing]

"He's a god?" The disciples were stunned upon hearing these words, turning their gaze towards Forseti.

Forseti remained silent.

After a moment, he responded not directly to the question of his divinity, but with respect: "I admire the integrity and courage of the Brotherhood of the Shield, and I share your anger towards the atrocities of Apocalypse."

"But honestly, I'm not suited for leadership, and I have other obligations... I cannot accept."

Plato struggled with his breathing, whispering, "The people of this world truly need your aid. I implore you once more..."

Forseti raised his hand gently, "Though I cannot lead the Brotherhood of the Shield, if circumstances permit, I will gladly assist you in confronting Apocalypse."

Plato moved his lips, then sighed softly, ceasing his persuasion: "The world will owe you a debt of gratitude."

"Aristotle."

Aristotle responded promptly, "Yes, Teacher."

Plato gasped, "From this day forth, you are the ninety-seventh prophet of the Brotherhood of the Shield, and also the second dean of Akademi College."

"Yes."

Plato continued, "Menehmos, you shall assume the role of deputy dean of Akademi College, overseeing its affairs."

"Yes, Teacher." Menehmos nodded somberly, his voice choked with emotion.

"Agamotto..." Plato fixed his gaze on Agamotto, speaking after a moment of silence, "I know your passion for magic, but I also ask that you assist Aristotle and Menehmos with magical studies and manage some fraternity and college matters."

"I understand, Teacher." Agamotto nodded solemnly.

Plato then organized and gave instructions to several disciples, his complexion growing paler by the moment. Eventually, he fell silent, his gaze vacant, his vitality slipping away.

"Teacher!" The disciples gathered around.

Forseti stepped forward, his hands emanating a holy light, placing them upon Plato, but to no avail. Plato had reached the end of his life, beyond the reach of healing spells.

moments passed,

Plato closed his eyes, never to awaken again.

Thus passed Plato, deciple of Socrates, leader of the Brotherhood, prophet, and founder of Akademi Academy, into eternity.

That night, within a chamber, core disciples of Plato—Aristotle, Menehmos, Agamotto, and others—sat with solemn expressions.

Aristotle spoke solemnly, "I will oversee the funeral arrangements for Teacher. Additionally, we must swiftly inform the Brotherhood's branches of his passing."

"Shall I go and deliver the news?" Agamotto offered.

"Yes," Aristotle affirmed.

After a brief discussion, Aristotle broached another matter, "There is something else I wish to discuss—regarding the northern kingdom, Macedonia."

"Macedonia?"

"Yes, the monarch of Macedonia, King Philip II, is highly capable, and his realm flourishes. From what I gather, King Philip II harbors deep discontent towards Apocalypse," Aristotle explained thoughtfully. "Therefore, I believe the Brotherhood of shield should forge close ties with Macedonia and jointly oppose Apocalypse Egypt."

Someone interjected skeptically, "Macedonia is just another vassal kingdom under Apocalypse Egypt. I fail to see how aligning with them would serve any meaningful purpose. Exposing the Brotherhood to Apocalypse's scrutiny would only invite trouble."

Aristotle countered, "Remaining underground indefinitely will never lead to Apocalypse's downfall. Aligning with a kingdom could greatly bolster our efforts."

Menehmos added, "Ideas hold great power. A person of insight would never believe in false gods. Spreading truth will inevitably undermine Apocalypse's rule."

Aristotle dismissed this notion with evident frustration, "Menehmos, your ideas are perennially impractical."

"Akademi Academy exists to recruit new Brotherhood members. However, defeating Apocalypse through ideological warfare could take millennia."

"But with our current strength, even with Macedonia's alliance, what can we realistically achieve?"

"This is an opportunity of a lifetime. Apocalypse in Egypt is weakening, while Macedonia is ascendant. We must seize this moment."

After prolonged debate, they reached no consensus and reluctantly deferred the matter of Macedonia for the time being.

Suddenly, someone interjected, "By the way, is Forseti truly a god?"

Agamotto, typically reticent, spoke up, "I believe so. His power is formidable—I can sense it. Moreover, he possesses the Allspeak, a rare ability across the universe."

"The Allspeak? But didn't he speak Greek?"

Agamotto clarified, "That's the magic of Allspeak. It enables universal understanding as though it were a native tongue."

"If he truly is a god and offered aid, why don't we reach out to him?" another suggested.

Aristotle waved a hand dismissively, "He departs for Sparta tomorrow. His offer to assist is vague. Let us not harbor unrealistic expectations—he may be merely passing through."

"Moreover, even if gods exist, their power may not surpass those of false gods like Apocalypse. Thus, divine assistance alone may not suffice to overthrow Apocalypse."

...

The following day,

Having concluded his brief stay at Akademi Academy, Forseti prepared to depart for Sparta with all due haste.

The ever-watchful eye of Apocalypse likely lingered overhead, making Athens feel confining.

Before departing, Aristotle bid him a formal farewell.

Since Plato had revealed Forseti's true identity, Aristotle's demeanor was notably more respectful yet also more distant.

After exchanging pleasantries, Forseti suddenly asked, "Aristotle, do you know what transpired in Cybenetus before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War? Specifically, what weakened Apocalypse in recent years?"

"I'm not privy to the specifics. However, it's said that during the Rebirth Ceremony that year, Apocalypse's High Priest betrayed him. This act triggered death, famine, war, and pestilence—the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse—alongside a grave error during the ceremony, which left En sbar Nur gravely weakened."

Forseti pondered deeply.

Such events... Then again, the Four Horsemen truly displayed unwavering loyalty, perishing in battle to protect their master.

"Why did the High Priest betray Apocalypse?"

Aristotle mused, "I cannot say for certain. Perhaps he could no longer stomach Apocalypse's increasingly tyrannical ways."

"And do you know the High Priest's name?"

Aristotle thought for a moment, "It was... Khonshu."