Shadow of the Evil God

"So you don't remember what you did to me."

"I don't often pay attention to these insignificant little things," Sean said. "Why, do you care so much?"

"Since you brought me into this world, I have never seen the world outside of this prison." Bai Yan's voice became frantic. "Aside from those mutilated limbs, have you ever given me any living creature?"

The White Nightmare is the product of the ancient Kuna people's worship of Analik. Legend has it that they regarded this manic evil creature as a messenger of the One God, summoning it and raising it for worship in their temples. Later, with the fall of the empire, these so-called messengers became another kind of demon walking the world.

But Thane didn't care about their past. "Whatever the past, I need you to do something tonight. You can hunt as much as you want within the range I've designated," he said.

"Do you know that every broken limb you've thrown at me over the years is an insult to me?" Its voice became even more manic.

"Is that so? We actually have such a grudge against each other?" Sean frowned.

"You have insulted me in this world for eleven years."

"I haven't figured out how to use you, so I'm leaving you alone for now." Sean stroked his long beard, frowning as he expressed his difficulty. "My advisor said a few limbs and arms will be enough to sustain your existence, so I'm going to do that. Do I have to feed you freshly captured slaves regularly like the Kuna do?"

"Useful?" White Nightmare hissed. "You? You don't have any trace of a contract on you, and yet you think you can command us?"

"You're right. I never sign a contract." Sean pulled an embalmed human hand from his arms and waved it in front of him. "The contract is on this severed hand. Even though the guy who signed the contract has been dead for some time, it can still be used."

"I don't recognize a bug like you who hides behind a corpse and pretends to be important!" Its voice rose sharply, turning into a sharp emphasis. "Boundaries without dedication and sacrifice are nothing but empty words, a piece of waste paper. You are unwilling to even give up your own soul, and you still want me to serve you? No, I want you to make up for the mistakes you have made in the past eleven years and offer up your life and all the living souls you owe. If you can't, I will take you—"

"Shut up." Sean relaxed his brows and smiled at it.

The nightmare rose upward, as if floating in an invisible vacuum. Black mist gushed from its mouth, covering its entire body and continuing to spread outward. The outlines of the surrounding objects suddenly distorted, and he heard countless screams, cries, and strange laughter. "I'm going to take your—"

"I told you to shut up!" Sean took a step forward to face it. His patience had reached its limit recently, and this thing was about to make him lose control of his emotions.

As he finished speaking, it suddenly fell to the ground, like an anchor hook dropped from a ship, its entire body pressed to the ground a foot in front of his toes, and every inch of its broad wings pressed tightly against the stone bricks.

It was still gaping with that oval black hole, but it could only hiss in vain.

"You want me to make amends?" He raised his voice and asked. Along its body, four intangible red sections formed a stable triangular pyramid.

, imprisoning it inside, and then the geometric shape collapsed inward, pushing and deforming the howling evil monster, pressing it like a ball of twisted rags.

"Do you think I owe you many souls? Even my own?" he asked it again. The geometric shape expanded outward. Its entire body was pulled, stretched, and opened, like a taxidermied animal, its limbs, head, and wings hung on iron hooks for display.

"If I can't, what will you do? Take my soul?" Sean opened his right hand and gathered the pervasive black mist into his palm, almost condensing it into liquid. He stretched out his left hand and grabbed its neck, like lifting a chicken, and only let it go after forcing the unnamed substance that created exogenous fear back into its neck.

The creature was finally free. It dropped to its knees, wings folded, and emitted a low hiss. Honestly, this mad creature was much easier to get along with than Corini. At least it knew how to be practical.

"I apologize for my offense, my lord. You are the superior, and I will obey your decision," it said.

"Very good." Sean nodded and said, "I hope your mission tonight will go as smoothly as before. Also, remember to bring back all the property in the bag."

It paused. "Property...? You confuse me."

"What are you confused about?"

"Why do you stay in a place like this and hang out with worldly people? Why do you worry about some ridiculous worldly possessions all day long?"

Thane leaned forward. "Because you don't understand how the world works, wretch. The last fool who thought he could shake up the order of things has been rotting for two hundred years, and every poor peasant in the backwoods tells their children the story of that poor wretch's trial. Nothing could be more suitable for me than to be a hereditary noble with a penchant for amassing wealth."

......

At this point, Cesar's fictitious hereditary aristocratic status had already laid the foundation for much of the situation. Regardless of Earl Thane's private existence, as long as he still wanted to reside in human society and embezzle Noien's tax revenue to meet the needs of his true god rituals, Cesar could leverage the temple's momentum to sit down with him at the same table and negotiate.

However, in order to strengthen the relationship between the Hier Temple and himself and make things more stable, he still had to complete this matter with the Temple Knight Granli.

What is certain is that two blue guards have been killed, but the priest has escaped the encirclement with other loyalists and most of the property, heading towards the mine.

The mine is located at the lowest point of Dogkeng. (Group 6#999/Four:9Three6One!999) Locals say that before Count Thane's ancestors arrived in Neuen, this area was a mine that had been mined out in the early years. Years of mining caused the ground to sink, and the name Dogkeng stems from its resemblance to a wild dog. Therefore, the name Dogkeng actually has a longer history than Neuen Fortress itself.

Later, Sean's ancestors found someone to explore the remaining iron ore at the end of the mine, and also discovered the associated coal mines during mining, which made the poor and remote area of ​​Noien prosperous.

Because the ore vein lies deeper at the bottom of the mine, miners spend a long time descending, and the conditions at the bottom are precarious. Aside from a landslide a few years ago, it's known that sulfurous gases from deep within the mine constantly surge into the tunnels through fissures. The depths of these fissures are unfathomable, and superstitious miners believe there lies a bottomless abyss below, leading to a terrifying place where evil dwells.

In order to catch up with the fleeing priests as quickly as possible, the Temple Knight Granly, who had just waited for the first group of mercenaries to come up on the roof, ordered them to follow him. The mercenaries were small, only about twenty people, but they were well-armed, agile, and had participated in the battlefields of the north. Granly believed that they would have no problem dealing with a group of fleeing criminals.

Arriving at the mine entrance, they unsurprisingly discovered a devastating slaughterhouse. The blueguards, having neglected to search for a key, had violently demolished the gate, leaving its hinges twisted and the ground strewn with corpses. Some of the bodies were overseers resting, but most were guards overseeing the mines, dressed in ordinary clothing. All had been killed by clean beheadings or slit throats. Several bodies were missing their eyeballs, a puzzling sight.

Is it necessary for those people to gouge out their eyes before killing people?

The mine was pitch black, steep as a shaft, but thankfully the circular staircase was well-maintained and had a protective railing. The Temple Knight walked ahead, lamp in hand, with Libio and the mercenary captain close behind. Cesar could only pull Fils along as he walked in the center of the group.

As he walked, he fell into deep thought: Is there a way to escape from Noien at the bottom of this mine? If not, why would the local priest come here?

The mines grew deeper and deeper. They had already descended about three hundred steps, but they still had to continue descending. Occasionally, abandoned tunnel entrances were visible along the way, but these were untouched by footprints—presumably, the priest and his men had fled deeper. Cesar could sense a dampness gradually rising from below. This place was close to the Yoshua River, and some areas were not as dry as in other mines.

He paused for a moment, tapping the cave wall with the handle of his dagger, listening to the sound of rock and earth. He also felt the damp water clinging to the rock surface.

At this moment, Phils suddenly tightened his arm and motioned him to bend down towards her.

"I feel the scars," she whispered.

"What injury..."

"Lower your voice!" she almost

She bit his ear and said, "Come closer! Speak in a voice that only the two of us can hear!"

Cesar glanced at the mercenaries in front and behind them, thinking that they still had to go down the stairs, and it would be awkward to talk while bending over. However, since they were already bent over, there was nothing wrong with going with the flow.

He put one arm around Phils, lifted her from the steps, and placed her on his right arm. Her round little bottom tensed, twisting and turning against his forearm, nervous, and her legs clamped tightly around his right hand, hurting his wrist. Her slender waist shrank like a frightened snake, her lower abdomen sagged inward, and her back arched backward, as if she were trying to find a crack in the stone to curl into.

This guy didn't seem to be afraid when there was no one around. He used him as a climbing frame to climb on his back, but now he started to panic.

After descending a few dozen more steps, Phils raised her face slightly, but her teeth were still biting her lower lip. Cesar exhaled softly and put his mouth close to her ear, almost kissing her smooth neck. He felt the hair brushing against his lips.

"Now?" he asked.

"Sure, I guess so. It should be possible."

"So what is the scar? The priest's spell?"

"No, that's not right. It's not that slight mark. If the real world were a piece of parchment, this area would have curled up and turned black. Do you understand?"

Chapter 19: Whispering

Cesar slowed his breathing, focused his senses, trying to feel the scars of the world, but he couldn't detect a single curled, blackened mark. Perhaps it was the touch of her narrow, rounded butt that was too obvious. As he carried her down the steps of the mineshaft, her tight buttocks, through the thinness of her pants, rubbed against his arm, swaying back and forth, arching subtly unconsciously. Once you noticed, it was hard to focus on anything else.

Phils was wearing the brown clothes and trousers that local children wear. Because they were too loose, you could see the inner bra straps passing around her neck and tied in a knot at the back during the bumpy ride, which set off her extremely delicate shoulder blades.

The soft hairs on her neck would occasionally brush against his cheek, making him itch even more. Her softly contoured shoulders would bump against his chin when she whispered, not only causing pain in his jaw but also making her shrink in shock, instantly capturing his view of her ivory back, smooth and white, tapering from the shoulder blades down to a shadow of inward-facing skin.

After being raised in a local wealthy family for more than a month, Phils's health has improved a lot.

"Well, I didn't feel anything," Cesar said finally, inevitably adding some of her usual phrasing.

"You need to be trained like me to feel this level of scarring." Fils kicked his knee with her toes, but it wasn't very effective. "Don't waste your time here. I'll try to teach you later." She said, resting both of her calves on his aching wrists.

"So what does this scar mean? Does it mean we're in danger?" he asked, shaking off her unruly legs.

Firth shimmied on her knees, reaching down to tug at his right hand, determined to use it to prop up her dangling calf. Uncomfortably, she whispered to him, "Either a wizard from the Origin Society cast a destructive spell here, or a demon has been here. What do you think..."

Cesar grasped her thin, bony wrist. "I don't understand what these two sides are. I'll just listen to your thoughts for now."

"Uh..." She struggled but couldn't break free. "Well, I think a demon passed by. It felt like a burning spot, can you understand? Wherever it passed, it left scars, and it takes a long time to heal. Judging from the healing, it passed by this place just a minute or two ago. The missing eyeballs of the corpse at the door were most likely gouged out by it."

"Is this demon dangerous?" he asked. "I heard you say that even ordinary people can feel the scars left by dangerous demons after they pass through. Since I can't feel any, does that mean it's not a big threat?"

Firth's eyes widened, but with the dark circles under her eyes, they didn't look intimidating at all. "Even if ordinary people can't sense it, it's dangerous enough! Haven't you considered who we are here?"

Cesar pondered for a moment. "Twenty-five mercenaries, a Knight of the Hiel Temple, a fictitious young hereditary noble, and a half-witted mage... Even if you were a mage, you'd only be a mediocre apprentice, right?" he said half-jokingly.

Fils took a deep breath. "That last sentence is superfluous."

"Do you think we are completely powerless against it?"

"I'm not sure, maybe, maybe... maybe not, but a lot of people will definitely die."

"So do you think we can still reach Itris if we just turn around and leave?"

"I feel hopeless." Her expression was extremely gloomy.

"Look," Cesar said, squeezing her hand. "If I go forward, I might die. But if I

If I retreat, I will lose the temple's guarantee and all hope, and I will have no choice but to go back and be a sacrifice. The choice before me is actually very simple. However, you still have a choice. If you go back, you can still be Corini's assistant as before and help Earl Thane continue his career. When in the castle garden

You fled on impulse, but now you can use your rationality to ask yourself, is there any point in staying here?"

A red-haired female mercenary glanced back at them. Her pale blue eyes were cold and indifferent, like ice. Cesar felt that they were also incredibly sharp, reminding him of a time when he was arrested and interrogated at the border. The local guards had simply found him suspicious and questioned his purpose for wandering around. When he looked away, he heard Phils let out a long sigh; she had subconsciously held her breath.

"What do you think?" Cesar let go of her wrist.

"That guy must have killed a lot of people," she muttered.

"I didn't ask you that."

"I don't know..." Firth buried her face completely in his loose hair, her voice lowering. "Do you think I can always calculate my own gains and losses? Or is it that the place you came from has answers to all questions? Of course I don't want to move forward, but what else can I do? I don't want to go back even more... Sometimes I really want to dig a hole and bury myself in it, so that I don't have to worry about anything."

The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. Her lips, already very close to his ear, now opened their mouths and bit it, and his heart skipped a beat. Her upper canine teeth bit and rubbed against his earlobe, and her soft, moist lips held most of his ear, as if she always had to find something to bite when she was nervous, whether it was her nails or her ear, it was an option.

Saliva gradually oozed from the earlobe she'd bitten, soaking his unconscious ear like snake venom, infusing it with the paralyzing poison she'd brewed. Waves of low, whispered words, mixed with her warm breath, drifted into his ear canal, their words fragmented and intoxicating, like drinking wine. Five slender fingers grasped his collar and pulled it down, their nails scraping across his shoulder blades, their fingertips resting on his chest, twitching slightly like feathers.

"Does this allow you to make a judgment?" Cesar asked her in a low voice.

"I don't know, I'm not sure, but I can hold my emotions in," Firth muttered in response. "If you were trained, you'd know what I feel. This place is worse than the center of a fire."

"Can't you just let go of this feeling?"

"We've only gained the ability to empathize with the world's wounds, but after that, we can only adapt and endure forever. There's no way to alleviate or resist..." Her voice became increasingly gloomy and low, and if she hadn't bitten his ear, he would have hardly been able to hear her.

Is it like human pain? Cesar thought that the mechanism of pain nerves is actually the body's way of reminding people that certain things should not be done, otherwise it will endanger their survival. Hearing her say this, this feeling seems to be another level of pain nerves, the soul reminding people that certain places should not be approached, otherwise it will endanger their lives.

When mages stimulate this feeling, they are actually stimulating a sense of pain that belongs to the soul. Although it brings pain and discomfort, it can make them keenly aware of scars that are invisible in the real world.

"In that case, let's go tell them there's a demon here," Cesar said after a moment's thought. Phils didn't respond. He shook her shoulder and pinched her restless calf. Only then did she bite his ear reflexively, though gently, more like a numbing kiss.

"Hasn't it occurred to you that only earls in this city keep those things?" she asked.

"We don't have to reveal all the facts. Just say you're a wizard and you sense a demon here. As for where the demon came from, who knows? If the temple wants to investigate, the count will become even more nervous. If we promise him to help cover it up, our situation might be more secure."

"I hope you're right," Fils muttered, grinding her knees again and clamping her calves around his wrists, squeezing harder and harder. She was clearly uneasy, but her expression was so grim that it was hidden from view.

"Actually, I still hope you can refute me a few more times," Cesar said, "so that I can have more insights into the world and the things in it."

"Let's talk about it later."

"How long after this do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just want to leave Noyen and everything here behind and go to Itris. But if you really become a hereditary noble, you can actually go to the Domini Court. There's no need for you to, uh, follow me, you know? I can pass on my knowledge to you before I leave."

“我希望跟着你，因为我本来也没什么想去的地方。群:6#999:四:9三:6壹!999”塞萨尔捏了捏她的手表达意见。

......

"Are you finally willing to share some different information?" Seeing the two of them approaching the front of the group, the red-haired mercenary captain suddenly raised his voice. "Considering we're going to kill someone, if you two keep whispering to each other, I'll start to suspect you're trying to seduce my people from Gajeel to Xiel."

从战

Fighting for the God to Xiyeer? This is really obscure. Of course, it may be that it is only obscure to him, an outsider. Although Xiyeer has a wide range of functions, involving carnivals, city lord celebrations, and even nobles and artists gathering together to discuss elegant things will also display her statue

, but in the eyes of people who don’t know Xier, her only meaning is to seek pleasure in the love field.

After all, the only form of entertainment for most people is to plow the fields in bed at night.

"We're not talking about love," Cesar explained.

"Of course I know," the captain's voice turned gentle and calm again, as if he didn't care about their feelings at all. "No normal person would talk about love with a dark expression and nervous movements. My Lord Knight, if the information I inquired beforehand is correct, these two are most likely the illegitimate children of the city lord and a witch hired by the city lord. I heard that these mysterious creatures have the ability to perceive evil things. Perhaps they can help us better prepare for our actions."

Cesar found that the initiative of the conversation had completely shifted. He had never encountered such an outrageous thing before.

The woman, with flaming red hair and a relaxed, easygoing manner, was clad in solid black leather armor that reached all the way up to her neck. Her forearms and upper arms, vulnerable to blade-clash attacks, were covered in sturdy metal wrist guards covered with brown fur. Her hand-wide belt held six rations of gunpowder pouches, a musket slung on one side, and a one-handed sword on the other. Her other weapons were hidden from view beneath her brown, hooded cloak.

She was tall, almost as tall as him, and after deliberately falling one step behind him, she was already looking down at him. Phils could only barely reach her full chest, and the top of her head was almost level with her chest.

Granley pondered this for a moment, then paused. "Is there such a complicated reason? I heard your father had no children, so this concealment was to protect your safety, correct?"

"Yes," Cesar said politely, "but it's hard for people to be content with a life full of restrictions." He hadn't expected his tone to be so calm. Phils kept her head down; it was too difficult to expect her to have any acting skills.

"Have you considered the problems that might arise from leaving so suddenly?" Granley asked.

The question seemed harmless, perhaps even polite, but Cesar sensed a hint of danger. If he couldn't explain himself clearly and guide the conversation in the direction he wanted, the temple officials might be more inclined to send him back to the Count than to help him.

"If I continue like this, I'll just be a bastard in the castle, accomplishing nothing and inaccessible to anyone," Cesar said. "Rather than protecting me, he's imprisoning me. Besides a few servants, the only people I can talk to are Ferrieres. She's told me a lot about the outside world and how people can take different paths. I think I can become someone who can stand on this land with my own two feet, no matter how much suffering I have to endure to achieve it."

Granli was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat and said to him, "That's true, I have no objection, but if I remember correctly, Noyen will always need a city lord."

"And we need a city lord who understands border defense and city governance." The mercenary captain interrupted the Knight Temple before he could finish. "Anyway, you don't want to take office without having experienced the battlefield and witnessed the order of the world. That's your business, but first, can you explain clearly what your little witch knows? Is there something wrong with this place? What's the reason for those mysteriously disappearing eyeballs? I've never heard of those secret cultists gouging out people's eyes."

"Indeed," said Granley, "but I think they have already committed the grave crime of organizing a secret meeting, and they may be guilty of something even more serious."

"If they've committed more serious crimes," the captain said casually, "that means they're more than just ordinary cultists who meet in secret to make money. You can't call moldy rice just rice, because that stuff can poison people."

"That's right." Granly nodded in agreement. He didn't seem to be easily angered by being denied. Or perhaps, as long as the foundation of his faith was not denied, it didn't matter?