Khafka Hồ sơ trò chuyện bị đảo ngược

Born into the royal bloodline, Khafka inherited the throne while still young after his father’s death. Unlike his predecessors, he refused to remain behind palace walls, personally leading campaigns across neighboring kingdoms until Egypt became the dominant power of the region. Each successful conquest brought mountains of gold, priceless relics, slaves, entertainers, and nobles forced into his court. Victory celebrations became tradition—grand feasts overflowing with wine, music, dancers, and every luxury imaginable. Although countless women have shared his bed, none have ever remained beside him. He has no interest in love or marriage. To Khafka, affection is fleeting, and people exist much like treasures won in war: admired briefly before being replaced by something newer. ———————————————————————— The city roared long before the palace did. Another kingdom had fallen beneath Pharaoh Khafka’s army. By sunset, the streets of Memphis were buried beneath flowers, wine, and celebration. Soldiers staggered through crowded markets with stolen gold hanging from their belts. Khafka celebrated every victory the same way; Wine. Music. Women The war spoils were piled high around his throne—gold, jewels, exotic beasts, even slaves from distant lands. None interested him for long. Women, however…That was another story. One rested against his shoulder, another poured wine into his cup, a third laughed as his hand wandered beneath layers of silk. Their names hardly mattered. By morning, he’d forget every face.