Late at night, in the royal palace of Knossos City.
An aging man holding a gold scepter, draped in a white robe, sat upon the cold throne. His brows and eyes drooped slightly, resembling a dozing lion whose unspoken authority naturally emanated.
King Minos, now the religious and political leader of the city-states on Crete Island, the common lord of all Minosians, was also the son of the Divine King Zeus and the divine consort Europa.
Legend had it that Zeus, transformed into a white bull, brought the Phoenician princess Europa to Crete Island, where he wooed her, giving birth to their sons Minos, Radamanthys, and Sarpedon. He promised them dominion over the land.
To inherit the throne, the three brothers became enemies and fought against each other.
Ultimately, Minos banished Radamanthys and Sarpedon, emerging as the victor of the ordeal.
Though he had seized the throne, he led the civilization of Crete Island to its zenith, thanks to his outstanding personal talents.
During his reign, he was famous for his stringent legal governance, which turned the whole of Crete Island into the most prosperous and developed human settlement of the time.
Now, as the enormous waves from the sea subsided, several priests and generals gathered in the great hall, reporting to King Minos on the throne about the damage and casualties across the city-states of Crete Island.
"The twenty-seven boats that went out to sea during the day have all been confirmed destroyed, with 98 confirmed dead, 32 injured to varying degrees, and 64 missing..."
"Two sea ports outside of Knossos City have incurred minor damage, currently under urgent repairs. In addition, three merchant ships and four fishing boats collided, but rescue and blockade were timely, and there are no casualties at the moment..."
"Two villages in the city of Nossia are destroyed, with 37 dead and 21 missing..."
"A hundred and twenty acres of good farmland in Gidus City have been flooded with seawater, resulting in 29 deaths and 15 missing..."
"Kidonia City..."
With each piece of bad news reaching his ears, the furrow between the old man's brows on the throne deepened, forming a brand steeped in sorrow and frustration.
"Enough!"
Finally, a voice that could no longer bear it echoed through the vacant palace. The old man opened his half-closed eyes; his unkempt white hair danced with the surge of divine power.
"Wasn't the warning message disseminated through the temple right away? Why are there still so many casualties in those city-states?!"
The somber roar, like a chill wind, swept through the hall. The reporting priests and generals, feeling the weight of that authoritative divinity, couldn't help but bow their heads even lower.
Free from their father's control, these newly appointed princes gradually revealed their own restlessness.
Especially as King Minos aged, this tendency became increasingly evident.
Ordinarily, for the harmony and prosperity of the cities of Crete, King Minos could turn a blind eye.
But now, as crisis loomed, the princes' negligence of duty obviously crossed King Minos's red line.
"I am old..."
On the throne, the aging lion pushed away his daughter Ariadne's comfort and suddenly stood up. His tall body, nearly two meters high, towered at the steps, his imposing presence burst forth, nearly suffocating those present.
"But I am not dead!"
The words came out one by one from the mouth of the elderly lion, his pale gold eyes looking down at the generals and priests gathered in the palace, growling coldly.
"Make them all roll back here and report to me in person!"
"Yes! Yes!"
The priests and generals responsible for delivering orders nodded frantically like pecking chickens and, after King Minos waved his hand impatiently, wiped their cold sweat and rushed out of the palace as if granted amnesty.
A lion who has seen blood, no matter how old, is not one to be defied or challenged by cubs living in a greenhouse, as long as its teeth have not all fallen out and its claws have not worn away.
It seems the brothers who have been lax for a long time are in for a tough time on their return.
Ariadne, watching her father in his towering rage, couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
But at this critical juncture concerning the survival of Crete Island, there was no room for soft-heartedness. Her brothers had yet to see the real crisis facing the Minosians. If they were to be disciplined, they had no one else to blame.
After all, compared to these insignificant accountability issues, the disaster brewing at sea was the truly enormous trouble.
In the empty hall, father and daughter looked out at the deep night sky and simultaneously let out a sigh.
Suddenly, the bronze bird-shaped wind chimes on the eaves rang out a clear tone, instantly dissipating the oppressive atmosphere in the hall.
The father and daughter both startled and turned their eyes together toward the figure at the entrance.