Shadow of the Evil God

This cursed relationship seemed to be much more complicated than he had imagined. It seemed that Milava was the victim, and even the residual memory after death was still lingering on Alanti, Cesar thought.

"Are you looking at my sister?" Ferriers suddenly leaned over. "Do you think she's prettier too?"

Cesar thought that now she was talking about her sister Arlanda with a pretentious air, and a thousand years later she was talking about Soler with a gloomy face, just like before. He had to admit that this made him love her even more. What he remembered, what he had already seen in Fils, was what he liked most.

"I was thinking about the Emperor and the Queen," Cesar said, picking up his knife and fork to cut off a piece of meat and placing it on Ferriers's plate. "It seems that the Queen no longer has her former servants around her. They are all knights of the Empire. I think that maybe one day, I will also..."

"Don't think she and I are the same kind of people!" Ferriers cried softly, "Absolutely not. What I need is someone who can follow me and do things for me. Giving up everything I have to become someone else's property? That's too scary!"

"Your sister put

Everything?"

"Of course she's given up everything," she whispered. Even though almost all the nobles present turned their gazes towards Alante and Milava, she remained restrained, as if trapped in an invisible cage, and she didn't want to interact with outsiders. It was clear that her gaze towards Alante was complex, a mixture of admiration and disgust. "We had originally agreed to question the traditions of the school together and determine our own destinies, but after meeting Milava, she changed her mind," she added.

Ferrieres said as she looked at the meat on the plate, lost in reminiscence and contemplation of the past. Cesar didn't want her to be distracted, so he reached out and picked up a piece of meat, passed it to her slightly parted lips, and watched her take a bite, chewing slowly.

"At first, you know, as a young emperor, if a young, beautiful, and mysterious wizard actively pursued her, hoping for a romantic but, uh, brief encounter, those two words together would be really disgusting," she muttered softly. "Even if he wanted to refuse, he wouldn't be particularly firm in his refusal."

Cesar nodded, "I guess so."

"You also think these two words together are disgusting?"

Her reaction took him by surprise, as if age and education didn't make Phils more mature, but only made her more eccentric. "I thought you were saying that their love was natural," he said.

"Well... let's put it this way, this seems to be just a romantic and brief encounter that will end soon, but it may also be a seed. As long as we sow it in the soil under the emperor's feet, he will be trapped by the overgrown vines and will never be able to get out." Ferriers said to him mysteriously.

"Is it that serious?" Cesar raised his eyebrows.

"Of course!" she declared. "That's why you have to stay away and not get too close to her, you know? You'll get trapped by those overgrown vines, and how will I pull you out then? I still remember the year we met Milava. I was only eleven, and my sister was only fourteen. You know, I was just a child, and she was the kind of girl who looked quite naive. If she expressed her love with such a naive girlish heart, even if the emperor only loved his foster children as the rumors said, he wouldn't have the heart to refuse."

"It's been more than five years now," Cesar said.

"Yes," Firiel nodded. "It's been more than five years now, and she's spent every single one of them with the Emperor. She doesn't return to the academy often, but from what she says, there's no place she hasn't been, no war she hasn't fought. She was there with the Emperor at every hurdle he's overcome. Do you know what that means?"

"Allanti played a crucial role in the war on Mirava, so important that even if the emperor wanted to give up this encounter, he had to consider the war in the empire..."

"No, you bastard, don't keep talking about the Empire's war like she does! That's not what I'm talking about!"

Cesar took Ferrier's hand, kissed her fingertips, and softly soothed her, apologizing. She carried a delicate fragrance, perhaps a perfume prepared for her by the Franco-French Empire, hazy and fragrant. When he mentioned it, she couldn't resist. While looking out the window, she glanced sideways, observing the expression on his face. What was hidden in that face? It seemed to contain some obscure emotion.

"Can I be forgiven, my lord?" he asked softly. He wanted to kiss her cheek, hold her soft body in his arms, ask her where the affection in her face came from, ask her until her face flushed.

"You're so... so much like a handsome man. Put your skirt back on later," Ferriers said, shaking her head. "Anyway, what I'm saying is, my sister has forgotten everything we agreed on. Not only that, she's also thrown away all the blueprints we'd sketched out in the same bed together since we were little, and used all the materials we'd used to build them on our emperor," she said, glancing at Mirava. "There's really nothing left. That's all..."

"So she's completely wasted the treasures you both shared," Cesar pondered. "If these things had been used for what they were meant to be, both you and she could have made further progress and gained greater knowledge. But now, they've become consumables of war."

"What did she gain? Was it just Milava?" Ferriers was indignant.

"After accepting such affection, the emperor will no longer be able to easily drive her away. Not only that, he will even find that the situation he could handle before will become impossible without her. It's like a healthy person who has been leaning on crutches and realizes that he has become lame when he wants to throw them away..."

"That really makes me happy." Ferriers suddenly became happy. "Yes, that's the way to put it. It's really cruel, so cruel. Why didn't I think of that?"

Chapter 395: Ferriers and Alanti

Even so, Ferrieres could only express her opinions to him, in other words, to the servant she had lived with since childhood. Once the nobles took their seats, she suddenly dared not speak. She had to follow her sister's dining etiquette, but unfortunately, most of it was inaccurate and could only be described as imitating others.

"Why are you better at etiquette than me?" Ferriers asked him, "You know, the school has always been bad to you..."

"I learned a few things myself." Cesar concentrated on cutting the meat. "So that I can accompany you in various occasions in the future, my master."

"Miss Allandi has assisted His Majesty in achieving great achievements, and the world regards her as a role model. I believe your servants also regard her as a role model." A nobleman of the Frank Empire said loudly.

The man spoke with a solemn demeanor, and everyone around him nodded in agreement. Cesar couldn't tell whether this was an attempt to win over the Yesterlen School or to curry favor with the Queen's relatives. However, in this era, the Yesterlen School was the most powerful school of magic, so any attempt to win it over was not surprising. It declined only after the fall of the Fran Empire. Despite this, it remained unyielding, feared by all the schools of the Istres Origin Society.

"No other school of magic supports our people like she does," said another noble. "I wish all wizards were like her."

Ferriers remained silent. From what Cesar knew of her, she was the mage these nobles most wanted to accuse, and a model of her own. As for Ferriers's subsequent support for the Casar Empire, Cesar had no idea what the hidden reason was. He pondered it, believing it was likely connected to the Templar's scheme and the dragon blood of the Casar Empire's royal family.

"I've heard the environment west of the abyss is quite harsh," the nobleman said. "The grasslands are endless, dotted with swamps and wetlands, and the human populations there are primitive and uneducated. Even if a group of Kuna escaped there, the emperor would have no intention of conquering them. I heard your servant came from the west. Do you have any experience of that place?"

"I took her out while dissecting the body of a hydra," Ferriers said nonchalantly. She raised her glass and pretended to take a sip. She felt like closing her eyes and sticking out her tongue, but she held back. The wine seemed strong. "The hydra devoured a small tribe wandering the edge of the grasslands, and all the bodies were huddled together in its belly. Then I discovered a girl my age was still alive, and I decided to take her with me," she said.

An entire tribe of Sasoulai had been devoured by the hydra, its undigested corpses huddled together in its belly, and yet, in the end, a single living being was found among the corpses? Cesar felt that this experience was far more legendary than waking up on old Thane's altar.

According to Sefera's memories, during the time of the Frank Empire, the Sassulei were far more primitive and barbaric than they are today, practically cannibals. Only after the careful guidance of the Kuna did they gradually develop the order and culture of a civilized society. Cesar was struck by the thought that these impoverished Kuna, deprived of human sacrifice and their own dynasty, had in fact become the ancestors and guides of the Sassulei.

"It's truly a legendary experience," the noble said. "To have suffered such a trauma at such a young age, it's best not to talk about it."

Cesar smiled at him. "Thank you for your understanding, sir."

"That's right, but I say this because your school treats servants too lightly, just like the cursed ancestors treated our compatriots. At least in this respect, your master is more worthy of admiration than her sister. Although our future queen changed the terrain in the recent war and guided the course of the war, but..."

Cesar heard a clang and saw that the knife in Ferrieres's hand had fallen onto the plate. He calmly picked up the knife and placed it between her fingers, which suddenly became unstable.

"Are you okay, miss?" asked the nobleman in his residual memory.

"The master must be too worried about his sister's safety." He said softly, grabbing Ferrier's hand and helping her hold the knife tightly.

For the rest of the time, everyone began to discuss the course of the war. Cesar helped Firiel to a corner and handed her Firiel's favorite sweet in Gural Fortress. "What is this?" She poked it with her finger and licked it. "So sweet! So sweet! Feed me."

It seemed a careless remark, but Cesar didn't care. He looked at her with infinite affection, put his finger between her slightly parted lips, and fed her a small bite of the snack. Halfway through her meal, she had already lowered her gaze, and by the time Cesar reached out to wipe the crumbs from the corner of her mouth, she no longer dared to look up. However, when he took a few steps to get the plate, she tugged at his clothes again, as if she would feel lost without him.

Cesar felt that Ferrieres didn't understand some of the subtle emotions and thoughts in her heart, whether towards her sister or her personal servant. Although with his ability, he could easily see and draw them out, but if it was Sevra who was dissected from the corpse of the hydra, the situation would be difficult to say.

Unlike the skillful Diana, Ferriers is the kind of person who puts all her thoughts on magic and true knowledge. It is difficult for her to see other things, and even if she sees them, it is difficult for her to figure out what she should do.

How would she react? Just looking at the fact that this ancient Sevra didn't live long after being cursed, when the inevitable happened, Ferrieres would—how should I put it?—experience the feeling of loss?

In reality, she had already experienced loss once: the sister who had accompanied her and made an agreement with her about the future was gone. This was a loss. Not only had Alanti chosen someone else, but she had also reprimanded her as the queen, which meant that their past was over, and their childhood relationship naturally became fragmented like an illusion.

This incident stirred a huge wave in Firiels' soul. On the surface, she was just indignant, but after the nobleman mentioned that Alanti had used magic to change the terrain and guide the direction of the war, this indignation turned into panic.

Cesar knew that spells that changed the terrain and dominated the war came at a huge cost. If the situation was urgent and there was no time to prepare, it would not only consume materials, but also souls and lives.

He looked at Alante, perceptively noticing her pale face and a frailty that even the most meticulous makeup couldn't conceal. Phirius must have noticed her sister's pallor and weakness, and considering the war between them and Milava, she'd have concluded that Milava was far more important than she was, important enough to make her sister sacrifice something she would never give for herself.

This was a complete loss, and it was completely irreversible. The moment she realized this, if she was willing to face it, to confront it, she would change. However, if she was unwilling to face it, and just silently pulled the last person beside her for hope like now, unable to say what she should do, she would easily face the next more complete loss.

César knew the horror of this loss. The longer he immersed himself in that idyllic love, the more it warmed the icy reality, the more he could not afford the price of loss. If you counted the wasteland, he had spent more than a decade with Ajeh, Diana, and Firth. Compared to that, the bitter war years had only lasted a little over two years.

Even though the past decade seemed like a fleeting moment, and they often spent their time simply walking from one side of the wasteland to the other, or even curled up in a stone cave, waiting for the Eye of the Furnace to fade away, he was certain that the times he had with them were the most fulfilling in his life. He could do so much for these moments, because he knew that without their support, his life would be miserable beyond imagination, and his soul would be dejected beyond imagination.

Now, Cesar looked at Ferriers, who still didn't know what the future held. He felt that, he could say, she had most likely reached a life path that was tragic beyond imagination. Ferriers, the Grand Master of the Casal Empire, was not entirely the result of tragedy, but a large part of it was.

While everyone's eyes were fixed on Arlante in the auditorium, Ferrieres's eyes shone mysteriously in this secluded corner. She took the last bite of the pastry, but didn't eat it. Like a drowning person searching for hope, she reached out to him, believing him to be her hope. She kissed him, their lips touching, and the pastry, gently pushed by her tongue, entered his mouth. Cesar felt that in this kiss, she had given him her soul.

It seemed that no matter where she was, no matter what era, no matter what kind of cover-up she faced, she would find him on the verge of death and fall in love with him without hesitation.

Cesar swallowed the food mixed with Ferrieres' saliva, silently held her hand, and bent down to kiss her. Her eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushed, and finally she put both hands on his chest. He found that something was not right with the touch, and then he realized that his chest was not solid muscle. "Are there two Sevra?" She pursed her lips and said, "I feel like you are her, but not her. If it were the original Sevra, she would have been very panicked just now..."

"Take all of Sevra's love," Cesar said, "and that will be me."

"So the undivided part is a cold and empty being?" she asked, then nodded, as if trying to escape the impulse just now. "That should be the case. The curse of the path is such a mysterious thing. Then can you understand what's going on between them, love?"

Cesar realized she was referring to Milava and Alanti, and that love was a nickname she had given him. "I think," he said thoughtfully, "this may be related to the school's curse, my master."

"We were talking about curses when we were little," she gritted her teeth, "but she forgot everything about us the moment she saw Milava. Now she's scolding me like a secular queen scolding her juniors!"

"Why are you so afraid of curses?" Cesar asked. He felt that the current Yesterlen School must have knowledge that was lost by later Yesterlen Schools.

Chapter 396: The Life and Death of Ferriers

"Every generation of us knows it's a curse," Ferriers said softly, "but every generation of us has helplessly accepted it. In fact, before me, more than one person wanted to break free from their chains, but no one ever succeeded. The school would also let us struggle on our own, as if they didn't worry at all that we might break free."

"So your sister finally gave up," Cesar said.

“I don’t know if she gave up or if she never cared in the first place. But sometimes I think that as long as I practice the spells of our school, or even as long as I use the knowledge of the Kuna people, I will never be able to break free of it,” she said.

If the knowledge of the Kuna people could not break free from its chains, should they seek a completely different line of knowledge? Cesar thought of the mages in the land of the Kasar Empire, of Zavulon and the knowledge it passed down, and of the ancient texts he had seen on the cliffs next to Soin's hut at the edge of the abyss.

It seemed that Firiels had her reasons for approaching the vast, distant Kasar Empire. Even if this incident wasn't the decisive reason, it was at least the reason for her to take the first step.

At that moment, Alante walked past them. She patted Ferriers on the head. "The price of being the Chosen One is that we can't choose what kind of life we'll lead," she said. "But we can at least choose how to spend it. You've never thought about how to live your life, Finny. If you can't even do that, then forget about struggling and making choices."

Cesar had thought that as the other part of the residual memory subject, Alante also had her insight, but he did not expect it to come so soon.

"Your words are filled with admirable wisdom," he said, bowing. "May the honor of the Frank Empire and the wisdom of the Yestren School be with you forever, my lord."

From the perspective of future generations, especially considering the stitched head, the irony in these words is quite heavy.

Ferris opened her mouth to retort, but Cesar pulled her arm, silencing her. With her current perspective and experience, refuting her sister was pointless, especially considering that Alante might have experienced the same thing as Diana's mother.

Cesar had heard of the calamity of the thought plague. He felt that this ancient Kuna remnant was extremely similar to the thought plague—it had either replaced Ferrieres's sister or assimilated Ferrieres' sister through thought erosion. The former was too obvious, while the latter was much more natural, almost imperceptible.

"Milavar needs me," Alante continued, smiling back at them. "If one loves another, they won't leave them alone to face a world in turmoil. Now I'm going to the center of the auditorium, and you have to learn to accept your life, don't you, Finny?"

Ferris gripped his arm tightly, "I know, sister."

"Can I ask you a question, sir?" Seeing that Allandi was about to turn and leave, Cesar said, "Of course this is a bit offensive, I think..."

"Ask," she said. "At least you've shown Finnie what it means to live her own life."

Cesar felt that Allandi's words had a Kuna philosophical flavor. He had never heard anything like it from Diana, let alone Ferriers and Fils. Moreover, her kind and gentle demeanor reminded him of Diana's mother, Bernadette. Some subtle features were more than similar; they were practically identical.

Thinking about it now, was Bernadette's temperament at that time completely herself, or was she eroded by her residual memories?

"Our God has not been at war for many years," he said, referring of course to Soleil, "but she still..."

This question combined Cesar's speculation and observation. Since Milava sought aid from the School of Magic, it proved that Solaire was no longer able to intervene in every war. Solaire was reportedly present when Milava initially traveled to the Yesterlen School, suggesting that Solaire could still walk in reality. Comparing the two, she must be in a dilemma.

Arlanti pondered for a moment, then approached, lowering her voice. "Our god has been gazing at the distance from the edge of the Sanctuary Abyss. It is said that her former home lies there, but who knows? The past will eventually be left behind. Look to tomorrow, Sevra."

Cesar watched her turn and walk away, unsure how to respond. The past will eventually be left behind? She was eroded by ancient remnants of memory, yet still spoke such words. Either she was unaware of her own erosion, or the ancient remnants didn't consider themselves ancient. However, this plague-like erosion of thought was terrifying in itself, and delving deeper wouldn't change its nature.

So what happened next? What happened to Milava at Arlanti? Who killed whom and sewed the body onto his own head? The more he looked, the more terrifying the mystery surrounding this lineage of the Yesterlen School became. He briefly considered the Thought Plague, but it was clearly a scourge of another land. Why would it lurk here?

Perhaps there was a commonality among these great disasters, Cesar thought. The so-called plague of thought, perhaps it wasn't just an accidental creation of a certain school of magic, but an inevitable outcome.

Whether it is for the existence of Fiers or for Diana's soul and consciousness, he must go to the deepest part of the mystery.

At this time, the two of them stayed at the edge of the hall, out of the way. Many nobles had gathered around Milava and Alanti to discuss the war situation. Cesar used a hunting knife hanging on the wall to cut meat, slicing the pig off the grill one by one. Ferriers ate half, and he ate the remaining half.

"Which places are they talking about?" Ferriers asked him. Cesar stared at her for a long moment. He noticed that both Ferriers from Old Thane's school and Ferriers from the Yesterlen School were as unconcerned with the mundane world as ever. Even he had caught on to something, gaining an understanding of the war situation, yet this guy remained bewildered.

"They're talking about the beastmen," Cesar told her. "There are several groups that are extremely tenacious, bringing with them some ancient monsters blessed by Analik and causing trouble everywhere. To this end, they are formulating their future plans. One of them is to expel all creatures that have any connection with the wasteland from the world and drive them back to the wasteland, especially the various elves."

"Then all that's left is just blind and ignorant beasts?"

Cesar shrugged while chewing a piece of meat: "It is better for the dynasty and the secular world if only the blind and ignorant beasts are left."

"Perhaps," muttered Firiel, "but we wizards will be in trouble. We don't need blind, mindless beasts, we need fey, hydras, all that..."

He shook his head. "Your sister doesn't seem to care what the mages think. She's not only offering suggestions, but also correcting and filling in the gaps in others' knowledge."

"She definitely doesn't care. Her head has been clouded by love. One day, when all of us mages are trapped in the cage of the secular world and can't escape, it will be too late for her to regret it!"

Cesar wondered, weren't you the one who imprisoned the Origin Society's mages? Even so, he grinned, "Then we'll see how she regrets it."

Ferriers pursed her lips. "I'll let you live until then," she said. "No, you have to stay with me..." She lowered her head, her expression darkening.

Cesar had long guessed that the curse of the Path had not ended well for the ancient Sephora, and judging by Ferriers's expression, that was also true. If the curse of the Crimson Realm had revealed its terrifying side to him back then, Ferriers would have certainly had the same expression.

In fact, as Diana said, the curse of the path was unusually successful on him. This unusualness must have a reason, and it seems that this reason lies either in Ajeh or the final destination of ancient Sephora. What was her final fate? How was her soul torn apart, becoming two separate entities across vast eons? What role did Ferris play in this process, and what choices did she face?

Cesar wanted to solve the mystery, perhaps even reveal everything, to understand all the causal connections so far. He had always believed that only those who understood everything were free, and only by seeing all the causal connections could they make their own choices, rather than those driven by others. Whether it was Legacy's temptation or Zavulon's guidance, they were all choices driven by others, and ultimately led to the results desired by Legacy and Zavulon, not by him.

"Perhaps I will end up staying in the Imperial Court," Ferriers added. "That way, we can gain a firm foothold and overcome the most difficult hurdles for you."

"Do I really have to go through all this? Maybe the school just wants me to stay with you for a while, until you can stand on your own two feet. They've never considered anything beyond that."

"A school is a school, but I...how can I, like my sister, turn everyone around me into strange knights? Once you have overcome these difficulties and the war is over, this land will be at peace, and we can return to the school."

"Haven't you thought about going somewhere else?" Cesar asked her. He really wanted to know how far away she was from the Grand Master of the Northern Kasar Empire, Ferriers.

"I don't know. But perhaps the north and west are both good options," she said. Cesar recognized the places she mentioned, all of which were rarely visited in this era. "But there's said to be a tribe of Kuna who escaped to the west. They might be unsuitable for human mages like us... There are also too many Beastmen in the north, and further north is even more foggy."

Chapter 397: Imperial Conflict

Cesar cut a slice of meat and passed it to Phils, who ate silently. Her blue eyes stared blankly out the window. Although it seemed to him that the outside was pitch black, a place where the memories of Milava had not yet covered, she must be gazing at the sky of that era.

He leaned over to look at her, hoping to see the view outside through her reflection. Those eyes shifted and fell on him, revealing a neutral face more like Sevra's, slender, fair, and elegant. Ferrieres looked at him like she was staring at ripples on a lake.

Seeing this face, Cesar couldn't help but wonder, is the Sefora of this era also like the Sefora beside him, who has lost her memory and was born as a foreign soul in the Sasule tribe?

His idea came a little suddenly, but there were indeed traces of it.

Diana had told him more than once that the soul was a senseless being, a book without words. Personality and memory were like written records, written within the soul's book. Therefore, personality and memory were not the book itself. This theory was the basis for the Yestren School's mages' manipulation of personality and memory as if they were written text.

This, in turn, unfolds the story Bernadette had told him: she saw an infinite number of herself in an infinite mirror, and these infinite selves became an infinite number of winter nights. This rewriting of text sometimes involves tampering, sometimes overwriting, and sometimes even writing a new text without modifying the original, allowing Bernadette and that unnamed entity to coexist. Afterward, the soul remains the same soul, but the words on it are no longer the original.

"You seem to be eager to visit the most unfrequented places, my lord," Cesar said to her.

Ferriers wrapped her clothes tightly around her. "I want to go, but I can't even guarantee my own safety. Although the school gave you the path to protect me, I feel that since I found you, it's my responsibility to protect you."

"That's your home, but from the way you sound, you more than just hate it," said Cesar.

"It's just the place where I came into the world, there's nothing to worry about," she said.