Shadow of the Evil God

"I won't," Sevra said sternly. "And, Cesar, I hate how you always attach so much significance to trivial things."

Seeing her turn and leave, Cesar could only shrug at her back, but she turned back immediately as if she had eyes on her back. "Don't touch the inscription here," she said. "Hurry and get into position. Jirallo wants to use you as a medium."

He felt she was far more excited than he was when touching the inscription, and he simply expressed the meaning of their actions. Of course, it's undeniable that he fulfilled some of his promises of love and companionship through these stories, especially since Diana had spent more than a decade with him on the journey, gradually changing her attitude. Initially, she harbored thoughts of escape and arduous journeys, but later, she leaned in his arms and gazed at the scenery.

Many things only become meaningful when people give them meaning.

He had to admit that he still often thought back to how he had longed for Diana during the time he had known her, and his memory was so perfect and vivid that even a memory crystal could not match it.

He remembered the first time he met her. The chaotic battlefield was awash in blood and despair, the raging flames of magic intertwined with the roar of artillery fire, shaking his eardrums. Suddenly, like a phantom, she appeared before him, transforming the flames into a dazzling display of colors. That scene made her appear radiant. As someone who witnessed this scene firsthand, he had to etch it deep in his memory, and he would involuntarily transform it into an intense longing.

"Your memory is more vivid than a memory crystal because you constantly embellish your past memories," Sevra said suddenly. "Your embellished memories are like the historical records fabricated by the Templars. Everything you recount becomes poetry. I've had enough."

"If I embellish my memories, I am discarding them, watching things that were once worth remembering fade and decay, and then saying that my soul is empty.

None,” Cesar retorted.

"This is my own business," said Sephora.

Cesar joined her at the campfire.

"We influence each other, so this isn't all about you," he pondered. "You know what's so interesting? You've been wandering in this hopeless darkness, feeling like a dying ember, reduced to nothing but ash. But since I called you over, your memory has been filled with the things I took away from you—poetry, travel, love, longing. Without being too modest, for every feeling worth remembering that decays into ash in your memory, I can pile ten on top of your embers for you to keep burning."

"And political struggles, court intrigues, wars and plagues, hatred and insults," Sevra pointed out bluntly.

"You're really good at picking and choosing."

"You're the one picking and choosing." She remained unmoved.

"In order to survive better, we should find some beautiful things among many desperate things." Cesar said while warming himself by the fire. "Of course, I admit that, overall, everything in this world is very hopeless, but precisely because of this, we must find something worth feeling in the gaps of despair and feel it carefully. When I was fleeing on the edge of the abyss, I regarded Soyin as all the hope of this journey. Yes, I love her, precisely because—"

"Because you like younger girls," said Sevra.

Cesar's mouth twitched. "You've become quite adept at using words to hurt people lately." He sat down by the campfire, his arm around Ajeh's waist. She leaned against him naturally and yawned, clearly not caring where she was or who was watching.

He stroked Ajeh's furry ears and listened to Jiralo chanting spells by the campfire. Soon, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He glanced down and saw Ajeh's white face reappear, her lips stained with blood. He knew what this guy was up to.

Perhaps this was the price of taming a she-wolf. Indeed, she could now lazily lean in his arms, letting him stroke her ears and tail, kiss her lips, and enjoy her beautiful body, but she had also become content to treat him as a reserve food, even a staple food, biting him to satisfy her hunger whenever she had the chance.

"You're the only one who could indulge her like this." Sevra took the baked cake from Aya. "At first, I thought I was saving you from her, but now I see that standing away from you is actually saving myself."

Jirallo suddenly spoke in a loud voice, "Please hold my hand, Cesar, and you, Firstborn, lean against him and don't move. Of course, please allow her teeth to remain in your flesh a little longer, sir. This kind of contact is deeper than a handshake, and it is just right now. Princess, please hold the right hand of your other self and the left hand of your servant. Very well, now that your souls are connected, I can complete this spell."

"You're making such a fuss," Sevra said, "because you think this spell will cause a major stir?"

"It's a storm," Giralo said. "The past of every era coexists within this tomb. Although most eras have decayed with the passage of time, they can only influence future visitors through dreams and illusions. However, if we hold the key closely related to certain eras, it will suddenly open and surround us with the phantoms of the dead. At this moment, please be sure to maintain your connection with each other."

Cesar realized that they might witness what happened that year in a more personal way.

"What about you, priest?" he asked.

"I'm just a remnant of memory." Jirallo shook his head and said, "Just like the world won't see through your little Ferrieres, they won't see through the existence of remnants of memory. After that, you need to appease the heads of the Frankish Emperor and Queen as much as possible. I know you're the best person for this, Cesar. Appease the key, and we can experience that era under the key's guidance. We will witness the secrets they revealed, observe the disasters they experienced, and understand why they were killed and injured, with only a few escaping the Tomb of the Wise."

Cesar felt Ajeh hugging his neck, and the slightly disordered breathing sound was extremely obvious in his ears.

Chapter 392 I Want to Try Something Different

"besides."

Jiralo's voice suddenly boomed, startlingly loud, like thunder exploding in his ears, a terrifying jolt. Cesar looked around and saw no one had noticed. Only Sevra, with an unspeakable expression, stared at him. It seemed the priest hoped only they would hear his words.

He looked up at the priest.

"Although the firstborn believes they can escape fate by giving birth to an empty shell," the priest said solemnly, "towards a predetermined fate, escape is ultimately only temporary. Only by conforming to fate, to a certain extent, can one deceive it. Later, when I lead the Faceless Agent, I intend to open the window to the present world a little, so that I can infiltrate your soul. As long as she continues to absorb your flesh and blood, you will nourish the fetus in her womb just like the outside world does, preventing her from giving birth to an empty shell."

"What will I feel?" Cesar stared at Giralo.

"You will feel your broken consciousness gradually taking shape within you, becoming the empty shell of a seed injected into her belly. This is like intercourse and reproduction on the level of souls. Some ancient species would enlighten their unborn offspring in this way, allowing them to have bloodline memories as soon as they are born. If you accept, I will guide you to complete this matter." The priest responded.

"How can you deceive her about her fate as the queen ant?" Cesar continued to think.

"Of course, I will cheat fate in my own way to prevent the birth of a new group of beastmen. This means that the child will be closer to humans than beasts, and even trace back to the origin of the First Born, that is, my Kuna people. This is not selfish of me, but an unavoidable path."

Cesar felt he had no reason to refuse. If Ajeh could give birth to an intelligent human child, while also avoiding the inevitable fate of the First Born, who would be sacrificed as the Ant Queen, this would naturally be the best outcome. A new tribe of beastmen was more important than herself, of course.

After he nodded in agreement, the priest began to complete the spell. Cesar felt Ajeh's embrace tighten, her bites deeper. When she raised her head, an inexplicable emotion filled her eyes, like melancholy and weariness, as if she were in a dream, unable to wake. Cesar lowered his head to kiss her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally, against her slightly parted lips, capturing her softness and the taste of her blood in his mouth, and he wouldn't let go.

"Everyone, hold the hands of those around you tightly," Jirallo said. "I've seen your faceless spy, Cesar. The Emperor and Queen of the Franks are indeed here. The traces of their residual memories are very obvious, locked in this stitched head. The Queen's residual memories also include someone I don't recognize. It looks... It's okay, I get it. This must be the origin of the Yestelen School, my ancient clan. The ancient will resides in their blood, neither alive nor dead, both existing and non-existent, affecting all their descendants in the future..."

Cesar felt his mind drifting off, as if strands of his mind were seeping into his soul from Giralo. Perhaps this was how Fils had felt when he'd searched the wasteland for souls to feed them. The world around him gradually changed. The once limited hall now seemed vast, like a shimmering black earth stretching to the horizon, filled with countless absurd structures.

Countless broken corridors hung crookedly in the air, countless windows leading to darkness were scattered on the ground like gravel, and countless portals engraved with magnificent stone carvings were slowly rotating in the sky. Every time they rotated a short distance, the stairs under the portal would be twisted and deformed. Sometimes they twisted like a spiral, becoming like the sharp needle of a curved dagger, and sometimes they spread out, as wide as a city square.

Cesar couldn't say exactly what he saw, but it was as bizarre as a nightmare, even the most bizarre dreams of a person in a serious illness. He felt that the horror of this place was that its existence would pollute the structure of the world, not only the past and future, but in a sense, the present order as well.

The Kuna people naturally worshipped the White Nightmare and naturally made the tombs of their wise men into places of pilgrimage and buried themselves there. These things just foreshadowed the madness in their souls.

This madness ultimately led the Kuna people to their destruction.

Cesar almost didn't want to describe what he saw. He'd been able to describe it just a moment ago, but now he couldn't. More and more broken structures piled up on the black earth, tilting and twisting, becoming increasingly indescribable, like a terrifying collection of human organs—a brain full of grooves, viscera woven with blood vessels, a spine riddled with nerves, and dense, tree-like blood vessels. Each organ believed itself alive, spinning and leaping in the air, chanting incomprehensible words.

In a trance, Cesar felt that these absurd architectural parts were really human organs, just as he felt that the Tomb of the Wise Men was some kind of living thing.

At that moment, he felt something warm wrapped around his back, reminding him of the Faceless One swallowing him. Her body was warm and moist, trance-like, like falling into a lake filled with wine. Gouzi was gradually emerging from behind him, as if she was meant to be there, holding him. One moment he felt her body pressed against his back, the next he felt her breath on his cheek and ear.

Then, there was the stitched head. The moment the heads of Milava and Alanti appeared, the entire tomb was shaken. Cesar felt himself

My thoughts were suddenly thrown into darkness, suffering a severe impact.

"Stay conscious, Cesar." Giralo raised his voice. "The tomb is rejecting and resisting these two sinners, but in order to lift the fog, we must bring in the Emperor and Queen of the Franks."

Cesar finally recovered from his dizziness and disorientation and found himself in the dog's arms. His mouth was thick with saliva and blood, having bitten both his own tongue and Ajeh's. His legs were weak, his mind was hazy, and he couldn't get up from her arms.

Of course, the same thing happened to Ajiehe in him. He stroked Ajiehe's hair, hugged this equally distracted girl for a long time to comfort her, and kissed her gently. Then he turned to kiss Gouzi, asking for her spare, pure and flawless blood from her soft lips and tongue.

Cesar had barely taken a sip when Ajeh pulled his face aside and kissed him. Her smooth tongue caressed his teeth, licked the surface of his tongue, and swept away most of the blood in his mouth. This went on several times, but Ajeh still wasn't satisfied. She moved closer and closer, until all three of them kissed, their lips joined together, the sound of their moist breaths mingling in a cacophony. The two smooth tongues alternately licked his lips, then entwined in his mouth, the intense sensations further distracting him.

Soft breasts pressed and slid against him, both of them squeezing him tighter and tighter. Blood practically turned to mist, lingering on his skin, provoking the Key to the Path behind him and the fellow travelers in front of him. The dog began licking his ears, breathing into them. Ajiehe also began kissing his chest, licking up to his cheek, leaving a trail of blood with her tongue.

They kissed his left and right cheeks, then the left and right corners of his lips, their soft lips sliding against his, before finally kissing each other. Cesar watched as two pairs of bright red lips pressed together, sucking softly, their smooth tongues entwined and teasing, their breaths mingling and mingling, warmly swooping down on his face. The sight of this made him extend his tongue and press it against them from below.

He felt two soft tongue tips licking the surface of his tongue, and then two lips, one on the left and one on the right, held his tongue on both sides, kissing and sucking it full of saliva.

The long kiss, followed by the long embrace, plunged his mind into a long trance. However, it wasn't a trance brought on by the grave, but a trance brought on by the road and longing. They held him tightly, one in front and one behind, one hand caressing his chest, the other his back, their legs hooked between their four slender thighs, tightly entwined, almost impossible to move.

When the kiss ended, Cesar finally breathed a sigh of relief and helped Ajeh to sit up from the Faceless Man's embrace. Gouzi licked his lips, and Ajeh shook her head, seemingly unfazed by their presence. Given their very existence, the Key to the Path and their fellow travelers weren't worth their mutual quirkiness.

He reached out and stroked Ajiehe's slightly swollen belly, feeling a sliver of his mind seep into her from his earlier trance. He could almost feel it through her body as his fingers touched. Should he tell Ajiehe she could really be a mother? No, better to wait until later, lest this guy lose the child in a fit of rage.

Cesar gently hugged Ajiehe's waist, smiled at her even though she looked at him like an idiot, whispered his love to her, and called her name. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore and reached out to push him away. He shrugged and turned to see what was happening to the others.

"What are you crazy about?"

"I want to try something different," Cesar said, glancing at Aya. He saw beams of light coursing beneath her skin. Perhaps that was the hidden knowledge of the Kuna people, hidden within her flesh and soul, driving her. However, beneath these beams of light, long, blood-red threads lingered. These weren't blood vessels, but the curse he had bestowed upon her in Noyen—a curse that could either save her life or trap her in the memories of the dead.

The creature lay beside the flickering campfire, as if asleep. Sephora gripped her shoulders, seemingly trying to keep her awake, but she herself passed out from exhaustion, collapsing beside her, unconscious. As for Jiralo, he was the strangest of all. He held the stitched skull in his right hand, his expression solemn, and he and the body, together, fell into an eerie stillness. Even his flying hair was frozen in an inexplicable way behind him, looking like a painting.

Chapter 393 From Phils to Ferriers

By now, everyone was shaken by the tremors of the grave, their souls waning and their consciousnesses fading. Only beings like the Faceless, who lacked any soul to speak of, had escaped. Furthermore, Gouzi had pulled both him and Ajiehe to their feet by awakening their paths and arousing their intense longing.

Cesar bent down and took Sevra's hand, feeling a wave of emptiness surge into him from the point where their fingers touched. If an ordinary person accepted this emotion, it would probably overwhelm all thoughts and make them want to find a place to die. Almost in an instant, she woke up with a start. It seemed that his emotions were also flowing over him.

"What's going on here..." She said as she looked at the dog and immediately understood what it meant to be soulless.

"Seeing her move freely even during the events of the Tomb of the Wise, I now understand why the Faceless Agent was able to wreak havoc on the Kuna people," Cesar said. "We were merely unconscious, but Jiralo's remnant of memory is frozen. Do you have any ideas?"

"Can you please let go of my hand?" Sevra asked him.

"I want to wait until the emptiness flowing out of your heart is less before letting go," he said. "These feelings can also greatly reduce the desire that has been rising recently. You know, some feelings keep accumulating in your heart, but will gradually disappear in my heart, while others are completely the opposite: they keep accumulating in my heart, but will gradually disappear in your heart. We are one soul in two bodies, and sometimes it is good for both of us to pour out some of the accumulated things to each other."

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Although Jirallo was still holding the stitched head motionless, the twisted and abnormal building structures surrounding them were cracking and breaking, emitting a dazzling light.

The moment the light pierced his eyes, a magnificent scene suddenly unfolded. Cesar thought he was looking into a grand auditorium palace. He saw the towering dome, its arches arranged in a crisscross pattern, and majestic columns rising between the vaults, the color of the azure sea. He also saw towering walls adorned with white silk, and carved with murals depicting ancient battles. The effect was breathtaking, almost perfect.

Strangely, he was standing at the far end of the hall. Beside him, at first, was a half-sewn head, then suddenly transformed into a tall, shadowy man, seated on the master's bench. At that moment, a bell rang outside the hall. Jiralo vanished for unknown reasons. Sephora remained silent, carrying the unconscious Aya on his shoulders. Cesar, Ajeh, and the dog could only wait patiently, still and silent.

The echo of the bell gradually faded, and a tall man stood up from the bench. It looked to be Mirava. Cesar seemed to feel heavy snow falling outside the window, but when he walked to the window reflecting the snow and opened it a little, he found that the darkness outside was like a sheltered abyss.

"Remnant memories," Sevra said. "It looks like this part of the memory is limited to this hall. We may have to follow the memories of Milava and Alanti for a while."

Cesar thought that he was still worried about death and despair in the darkness of the time maze just a moment ago, but at this moment he came to a memory of unprecedented scale, and had to participate in a ceremony with the emperor and empress of the Frankish Empire. This scene was really unreal.

However, Ajeh was very comfortable. She even started talking to Milava and asked him how he felt about ending up like this.

Milava stared at the Firstborn for a long time, and finally replied: "I need to think about something, Beastman. I have been thinking about it, and I will still be thinking about it until my last moment."

Cesar didn't understand what the Emperor of the Frankish Empire was trying to say, but Milava had already stopped talking, simply inviting them to enjoy the feast to the side. His eyes met with those of the nobles of the past who passed by, and he received a glance back. Then he realized that this remnant of memory was more than just a memory.

The thought was more unreal than the scene before him.

On the other side of the hall stood the Queen of the Frankish Empire, Arlante. She was tall, slender, and graceful, with an uncommonly beautiful figure. Surrounded by a host of nobles, she smiled sweetly and methodically addressed every question and inquiry. After a while, Cesar realized that this Arlante was only in her early eighteenth year, yet she was already perfectly adept at the political arena, completely defying the rumors that she had forgotten everything for love.

As Sevra and the others sat at the side, Cesar looked around the palace hall, trying to observe the events of the past, but saw a woman slightly shorter than Arlanti walk in. She walked hesitantly, her brow slightly gloomy, but her carefully tailored dress still highlighted her extraordinary beauty.

She was none other than the young Ferriers.

She was a few years older than Fils, who stood beside Cesar. Though she still looked under seventeen, she had already grown into a graceful and elegant woman. Under her sister Arlande's gaze, the gloom on her face faded. Though still somewhat reluctant, her eyes were as calm as water. Her small, straight nose, and her carefully embellished red lips gently pursed, made her look even more petite and charming. Her long, flaxen hair, which must have been meticulously combed by a court attendant, resembled polished silk, and with two hairpins, it looked magnificent and dazzling.

She was dragging her dress as she walked slowly along the edge of the auditorium. Cesar couldn't describe his feelings at that moment. He should have looked at the entire auditorium or said a few words to Milava, but he only

He watched her walk from one end of the auditorium to the other, unable to move his eyes away, and unable to see anyone else in the auditorium.

"If you want to intervene in the past, then use your identity in this era, the incomplete soul." Milava suddenly said, "I obscured Allandi's remaining memories so that I could continue to figure out the things that I had never figured out before. If you don't destroy my past, I will let you see everything. Otherwise..."

Although he was a little dazed, Cesar understood. He walked over to Sevra, first moved the drowsy Aya to Gouzi's lap for her to take care of, and then reached out to Sevra.

"Are you serious?" Sevra asked. "This is just a remnant of memory. You're pursuing the illusion of the past within it, and you're trying to use our lost identities?"

"I don't think he cares even if this place is just a dream," Ajeh said. "Besides, the lost identity is female. What do you have to be afraid of?"

"No, I must draw a line between us. Even if we return to the same body, we must have two consciousnesses." Sevra said, actually holding a short knife in her palm. "Press this blade against my palm," she said, "Do you understand?"

Cesar had no reason to refuse. He placed his hand against hers, interlocking their fingers across the blade. They both sighed softly, closed their eyes, and when they opened them again, he found that Sephora had vanished, and the place where he had been standing was empty. Before he could process the situation, Ferrieres appeared beside him—she practically leaped over, her skirt tugging at her.

"Why are you here?" Her eyes widened, and her composure suddenly lost, revealing the characteristics of Firth. "You are a grassland child I picked up from the edge of the abyss. What if the emperor hates grassland people?"

"The Emperor invited me here," Cesar responded calmly. "Did you notice his gaze? He's watching us."

"The Emperor invited you here! What's going on? You're clearly my servant! You've only ever listened to me!" Ferriers shouted. Cesar was stunned for a moment, trying to grasp the meaning behind her words. He turned his head and saw Ajeh with a mocking smile on her face, clearly watching his show.

"I said, 'You can only enjoy the banquet if I stay by your side,'" Cesar said thoughtfully, "and then the emperor let me in."

"Is the Emperor really as tolerant as you say?" Firiel muttered, glancing at Mirava. Seeing that Mirava was genuinely looking at them, she averted her gaze, not daring to look back. She hurriedly dragged Cesar away from Mirava. "Even if he is, let's not mention it again. My sister's mind is full of our young Emperor. Who knows what would happen if she found out you accepted the Emperor's invitation? The academy has always treated servants as expendable. If she wants to replace you, I'll have to take you and flee to a place where the academy can't find you."

Cesar felt she was exactly like Fils, exactly as he remembered her. Even though she had an aristocratic demeanor and was dressed in the splendour of ancient court techniques, she still had an erratic mindset, a dark and suspicious personality, and was particularly adept at imagining the most horrific outcomes of any event.

She held his hand as they walked along the auditorium. Halfway through, she was forced to slow down under the gazes of the passing nobles, appearing quite well-behaved. Compared to the immature Firth, the young girl Firth's every smile, gesture, and expression were not only identical, but also had an added touch of liveliness.

Thinking of this, Cesar's desire for her deepened. For a moment, he felt that he wanted to occupy every memory from the young and ignorant Fils to the elegant and graceful Ferrieres, holding her in his arms and savoring every age of her, of course, this lively and lively girl was also included.

He held her hand, lifted her skirt and walked her slowly forward until they reached the dining table on the other side. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief, as if this solemn occasion had put a huge pressure on her. She was quite surprised to see Cesar still holding her hand, as if that Sevra would not do that.

"Are you ill, Sephora?" Ferriers poked his face with her finger. "You look like a different person, but you still feel like you."

Chapter 394 You Can't Get Too Close to Her

"I must have been overwhelmed by such a scene," Cesar said softly. "I offer my sincerest apologies, my lord."

Ferris touched his face with her fingers, seeming to forget the words for a moment. Whether her silence was due to his tone or his gaze, he wasn't sure, but that was his habit, no matter which body he was in.

Just like now, every thought in Cesar's mind longed for her favor. This longing was so strong that even though he was in the flesh and blood of a woman, his soul whispered that he wanted her, even wanted everything about her.

It was obvious that Ferriers wanted to appear more elegant, but her forced calmness made her young face look even more childish, and her hands, not knowing where to put them, seemed even more at a loss.

At first glance, she seemed to have more aristocratic education than Firth, and her temperament was less gloomy, but he still felt that they were the same person. She was just Firth who had been consigned to the School of Magic, changed her clothes and hair accessories, dressed up exquisitely, and then forced to walk in the palace banquet.

The idea sounded far-fetched, but Cesar felt it held an element of truth. He cared little about who others saw him as now, whether it was his gender, appearance, or identity. Who he was depended solely on who he believed himself to be. If he believed he was Cesar, the one who had awakened at Old Thane's altar, then he was Cesar, and he would do what only Cesar could do.

"No, don't worry about it." Ferrieres finally came to her senses. She coughed and withdrew her hand. Just as she was about to speak, she saw the nobles of the Frankish Empire watching nearby. She immediately stood up and extended her hand toward him, as if asking him to perform some kind of etiquette. "But you have to promise me one thing first."

Cesar knelt on one knee, took her delicate hand in his, and kissed her fingertips. It seemed as if the very fact itself was incredible enough to make her eyes widen. She almost took a step back, but only with reluctance did she stand still. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Oh, well, don't disappear suddenly again." Ferriers was stunned for a moment before saying, "Follow me closely and accompany me through this ceremony."

He naturally followed Firiels into the Fran Empire's ceremony. Perhaps because Milava was the Chosen One, and Allandi's existence was shrouded in mystery, their memories seemed more than just fragments. Everyone in this place had their own will and thoughts, and could engage in conversation with an outsider like him and respond appropriately.

Cesar was accompanying Ferrieres, serving as her servant, and couldn't actively engage in conversation with others, but he still casually inquired about a number of things while helping her. First, Sevra was Ferrieres' personal attendant, picked up at the edge of the abyss. However, as everyone knows, there are few paths for ordinary people in the school of magic. They either become ordinary laborers or slaves, or accept the curse of the path and become high-level servants exclusively for mages. Sevra was naturally the latter.

People kept the curse of the path that Sevra had endured a closely guarded secret, but Cesar's personal experience made it easy for him to see that the curse she had endured was unusual. Since Cesar was now looking back on history, it was clear that Sevra's final outcome was not a good one.

Just as a dog can only accompany its owner for a dozen years, she died halfway through from old age or a curse, causing great waves of emotion in her owner, Ferriers. This idea is Cesar's current speculation.

It seems that Ferrieres had given her the name Sevra. Due to the school's affiliation, she was not given a surname, suggesting that the Yestren School had foreseen her fate and did not intend to give her short, cursed life much meaning. However, her elegant men's clothing still revealed Ferrieres' status. Through her position, Sevra received a certain degree of preferential treatment, allowing her to dress like a minor noble or knight despite being a servant.

While helping Ferrells deal with the visiting nobles, he observed the people coming and going at the banquet. He discovered that Allandi's residual memories were indeed clouded, believing she was still in the past. During the procession, he even lectured Ferrells and made further demands on her etiquette. Compared to the Empress, Emperor Mirava's emotions were far more complex, and it took a long time for him to suppress them.