Shadow of the Evil God

Cesar was stunned for a moment, then realized that Ajeh was silently admiring his reaction again. If he had acted more anxious, he might have received a mocking smile and a nonchalant question. He could only tut and pretend nothing had happened.

"I thought you were used to her bad temper," Sevra said, helping Aya to her feet. "I can't imagine you would actually be with her... Never mind, what happened? Did your Faceless observe anything? I saw her walk straight through the buildings of the Remnant Memory, as if the ruins and broken walls didn't exist."

"The dog can't touch the remnant, but she can see it through my senses. She said the structure of the tomb is distorting and changing with Milava's remnant."

"This shows that the Tomb of the Wise has a deep connection with Milava," Sevras pondered. "It also means that they dug quite deep, perhaps even touching the core of the tomb, and establishing a connection with it."

“But it didn’t end well for them,” Cesar said.

"Let's take it one step at a time. After all, I have Kuna blood."

Chapter 400: Battle between Teachers and Students

When Aya regained consciousness, they continued on their way. As the closer they got to Milava, the clearer her memories became, and the direction of the road became clearer. The sounds of fighting gradually intensified within the palace, and the echoes of the roars became clearer and clearer, like a tide that overwhelmed everything.

To maximize her involvement in the remnant, Sevra returned to him, replacing the Sevra in Milava's memories. However, Aya looked reluctant, her lips puffed up, as if something inviolable in her heart had been tarnished. He tried to step forward to offer comfort, but she glared at him and retreated, arms folded across her chest, fingers clasped at her shoulders, as if Cesar with Sevra's appearance was more wary than just Cesar.

He could only shrug his shoulders in frustration.

Passing by a hall, Cesar saw a large cat with the skin of a black lizard standing among the corpses, savoring the brain of a royal noble in its claws. It was hard to tell if it was a lizard or a cat, perhaps both. Before Cesar could ask, the beastman was already in front of him.

Seeing the conflict imminent, Cesar didn't want to waste time on meaningless arguments. He took on the form of a beast, his wolf mouth ripped open, and a body covered in gray and white fur. "I'm looking for the royal sister. That little thing can be used to coerce Milava. Have you found any trace of her?" he hissed.

The beastman was visibly stunned, subconsciously glancing toward the corridor to the right of the auditorium. It was an instinctive reaction, but it was enough. Ajeh eagerly leaped out of him, biting his throat. A single bite pierced through the flesh, severing the cervical vertebrae. Like a wolf, she pounced on him, tearing and devouring him. The two men he brought with him, one devouring tangible things, the other devouring intangible things, in a sense complemented each other.

The corpses of servants piled high in the palace, but soldiers were few and far between. It was clear that Mirava hadn't anticipated being attacked in such a place. Despite calling for Mirava, Cesar instinctively took steps in the direction of Ferrieres. Since the beastman had pointed out the direction, there was no reason not to go. Besides, how old was Ferrieres that year? He was curious. The thought of possessing and enjoying every moment of her life filled him with an intoxicating pleasure.

He should have been lost in worry, pondering the changes in his memories, the distortions of the grave. But the sensation of touching and kissing Firiels at every age was too wonderful to allow for any worry. This was a paranoid aspect of his character, no more beneficial than the emptiness in Sevra's heart, and he knew it all too well.

Cesar passed through a winding corridor and finally saw black-armored knights engaged in a fierce battle with beastmen. He paused. He had seen those black-armored knights in Solaire's great city and in the corridors at the entrance to the tomb; they had left a deep impression on him. The leading knight was a master of longswordsmanship, fending off two beastmen that looked like lizards or cats with a single blow of his black longsword. Somehow, his swordsmanship seemed familiar, and he was reminded of his first swordsmanship teacher.

Seeing the Beastmen cornering the Knight Commander, he took two or three steps forward and, drawing on his memories from Noyen, stabbed one of them in the back of the neck with a precise thrust of his sword, piercing through its mouth. The other Beastman immediately retreated, and in that instant, he dropped his right knee, lowered the tip of his sword, and thrust it upwards, piercing its chest, piercing through its neck, and piercing out from the back of its neck.

While he borrowed some of Sephora's talent, the swordplay Cesar employed truly came from Cecia, a memory that suddenly resurfaced after witnessing the black-armored knight wield a sword. As he sheathed his longsword, he gripped the hilt tightly, his arm extended, the tip still pointed at the Knight Commander's throat, adhering to Cecia's admonition: regardless of friend or foe, never slack off in your prepared stance.

"You are Firiel's servant..." the black-armored knight hissed, "I never thought you'd secretly learned our martial arts training. But, never mind, thank you for saving me."

Seeing the black-armored knight nod slightly, Cesar grasped something. Although Cecia came from a small, local noble family, the swordsmanship passed down through her family actually originated in the Frank Empire, where its earliest practitioners were executioners raised and trained for war. These knights had been training in martial arts for as long as they could remember, battling monsters before they reached adulthood, their lives etched in blood on the battlefields of beasts. They were executioners forged for the war of races, and the swordsmanship they wielded was also forged for genocide.

With this in mind, it makes sense that Sevra was repelled by Cecia with a sword on the walls of Noien.

You have to remember, this was Sevra, a prodigy. Back in Noyen, she'd taken down an entire city tower with a single dagger. For a descendant of a minor local noble, even one with a few years of experience as a mercenary, to have her defeated was absurd to the extreme.

So, is there any trace of Sethia's family? In peacetime, this would be a difficult matter, but now that Olidan is at war, with the forces at his disposal, tracing a local noble family by following clues is no problem. If the demise of Sethia's family occurred near the territory he controls, it would be even easier to track down.

This decision was not because he was too suspicious, but because he did not want to miss any clues related to the past. Although he was now in the memory of Milava, and all he saw were the black-armored knights of the Frank Empire, when he walked out of the tomb and returned to Olidan, where would he go?

Looking for someone connected to the Fran Empire? Where can I find the surviving Black Knights? How can I use the Fran Knights to uncover more about the Fran Empire's past, or even explore and excavate the ancient cities they left behind?

You know, he had been able to successfully enter the ancient city on the edge of the Sheltering Abyss thanks to Soyin. Now that she was gone, he would have to find other ways and different evidence. If he wanted to take the risk alone, deviate from the path Soyin pointed out, explore the city, and search for the treasures left there, the temple monks who died at the hands of the sword of the black-armored knight statue would serve as a warning to him.

Like Cesar, Sefera is a foreign soul, even two faces of the same person. However, she not only possesses Kuna blood, but is also considered the last princess by the Kuna people's remnants. Given her situation, it's not impossible for Seshia, who has been trained in the martial arts of the Fran Empire since childhood, to become a knight of the Fran Empire.

Although it was not a pleasant thing to say, his beloved swordsmanship teacher could be a credential. Using her identity as a credential to explore the ancient ruins of the Fran Empire would be like using Sefera as a credential to explore the Tomb of the Wise. Their journey would be extremely smooth, and the dangers along the way would be greatly reduced.

Cesar had no prejudice against pragmatism. Ultimately, that ancient, terrifying city lay there, so there was no reason not to utilize it. Would all those black-armored knight statues guarding it be buried with the dead? It still functioned, still awaiting the return of its master, but its master was trapped deep within the Age of Gods, unable to escape. This meant he had to seize it first, allowing it to aid him in his quest to retrieve the master.

As for whether Cecia would, like the others around him, abandon everything and accompany him to the Jedi, that was... hard to say. Their relationship wasn't that close, and her personal defenses were no less cautious than Aya's. Her departure from him and return to the battlefield in the north further demonstrated that she had her own path to follow and her own life to live.

Although they were teacher and student, they had only been together for more than a month. In other words, this relationship was not enough to convince her to take the risk.

Then, he would need to defeat her on the battlefield, capture her, and slowly negotiate with her. Given Cecia's status, she would most likely accept Garcia's offer to fight in the Kingdom of Olidan, and would eventually meet him on the battlefield. Although Altinya's many subtle ideas gave him a headache, she had one valid idea: to convince her teacher, she had to defeat him in some area first.

Cesar was not a hesitant person. He would not feel sad about meeting his old friend on the battlefield. As long as he handled it properly, he would just do a few more things besides winning.

"Are you going to look for your master?" asked the black-armored knight.

"Indeed, my Lord," he said.

"Firiels is in the northern palace," the knight hissed. "I've cleared the way to the northern palace... If you think you can rescue her, could you go there on your own? I want to go east first to support His Majesty."

Cesar thought for a moment, then decided to ask a few questions. "That's why I came here," he said, "but I don't have anything handy, and I wouldn't know what to say if I met anyone along the way... Could you tell me something?"

The knight took out a longsword and handed it to him. "Take this sword, and if you meet others on the road, tell them that you are the Sword of the Realm, approved by Knight Commander Slok, and ordered to rescue the Queen's sister in the north. Although you often seem shaky and feared by others, that is simply you fighting the evil within yourself. It is the fault of your school, not yours."

Cesar paused for a moment as Knight Commander Slok had already hurried off. He pondered the Black Knight's words for a moment, realizing that at this moment, the ancient Sevra was already cursed and practically terminally ill. She struggled to maintain consciousness; to call her mentally unstable was an understatement. No wonder Slok had reacted so strongly when he first saw him. On the other hand, he had the Knight Commander's words, giving him a way to preemptively scare Cecia. If she reacted to his words, it would be clear that she inherited more than just swordsmanship.

Of course, if this is true, when he meets Ceshia on the battlefield in the future, he will have a battle to fight.

Chapter 401 No One Knows Better Than Me

......

Cesar, carrying the longsword handed to him by the black-armored knight, advanced, ascending a series of winding stairs to a terrace overlooking the distant palace. Corpses lay scattered on both sides of the corridor, a tangled mass of rags, broken bones, and shapeless chunks of flesh. Broken limbs and shattered organs pooled in a pool of blood at his feet, trickling down the steps and making a sticky, dripping sound.

Even though it was a fleeting memory, the scene was still startling. He watched as dark red blood, mingled with human waste, flowed through the corridor and into the canal. Even in a brutal inter-clan war, culminating in a massacre, such a scene would be nearly impossible. After all, human soldiers lacked sharp teeth and claws. Disemboweling a human with a longsword was already a dramatic act, while further slicing and shredding flesh was a pointless venting of energy, a waste of energy, and a wear and tear on the blade.

Clearly, both sides in this racial war viewed the other as a monster—in other words, an entity beyond reason and communication, equated with evil and filth. Killing was an exercise of racial power, and sadism was a venting of righteous anger. No distinction was made between men, women, young, old, or individuals. Simply annihilating every alien race in their path would fulfill their mission.

"That's so exaggerated, it's heartbreaking," Ajiehe sighed. She climbed up from behind him. She looked smaller, like a slender girl.

Cesar searched for a foothold in the filthy pool of blood. "Do you feel sorry for it, too?" He stepped onto the slippery steps and motioned for Aya to follow.

"You spilled your own rice all over the floor. Don't you feel bad?" Ajiehe asked him. Before he could say anything, she bit his neck. "That's great," she said. "I've always wanted to drink blood mixed with the taste of both of you."

Cesar breathed in a pleasurable mixture of pain and numbness. Compared to his own form, the combined form of his and Sevra's seemed more sensitive. Ajeh's fangs chafed against his wound, but the tingling sensation of her tongue licking it was intoxicating. Finally, both of her slender arms reached out from behind him, draped over his shoulders, and hugged his neck, completely clinging to him.

Sevra complained again about his overindulgence of the she-wolf, and they both took a step back. Cesar declared that he would not turn his head and kiss Ajeh's bloody lips in a fit of passion, forcing Sevra to kiss Ajeh, and Sevra would not cut the man off his back with a sword, so they managed to maintain the status quo.

Ajiehe savored the rich, fragrant scent of blood, even licking his wounds amidst the corpses. Aya was already retching. Clearly, this pool of blood filled with corpses presented two completely different sensory experiences for humans and beasts. If the former were unrestrained, they would probably hug him and demand intercourse there, while the latter would faint if they stayed there even a second longer.

He reached out his hand to Aya again, but it seemed his pity only provoked her to fight back. She dodged his arm, covering her mouth and nose as she stepped forward. Although her chest heaved, her throat lurched, and her face was grim, she persisted in walking past him and toward higher ground.

"It's too late for you to be someone else's father now." Ajiehe said with blood-stained lips.

"I knew you would mock me like this." Cesar shook his head and said, "But why did you become smaller?"

Her ears twitched slightly. "The lizard broke off its tail and escaped, that's all. Cut off the infected part and throw it away. Of course, I will shrink. I need more of your blood to grow back."

“Will our children be affected?”

"Do you have any unrealistic hopes about being a father?"

"I'm afraid if you break your tail a few more times, you'll be pregnant and have a child before you're even ten years old."

Cesar lifted the blood-soaked curtains of the terrace and stepped over the gurgling pool of blood to reach the balcony's railing. The howling evening wind brought not only a biting chill, but also the stench of burning and an even stronger smell of blood. The closer he got to the hall where Milava was, the clearer his memories became, and the denser the beastmen and black-armored knights became.

The moonlight remained blood-red, as if to say that although Analik had returned to the Outlands, his legacy still lingered. From the smoldering blue flames, dragon heads composed of inky black shadows rose from time to time, spewing deep blue will-o'-the-wisp fire at everything within their reach. These heads were ethereal and indistinct, their outlines like crude stone murals. When their jaws tore, it felt as if giant hands were forcibly prying them open.

It seems that they have some connection with the true dragon magic, but it is hard to explain. Thinking that the werewolves also worshipped the true dragon in the wilderness, perhaps many beastman tribes have some connection with the true dragon magic.

Although the knights stationed at the palace were thrown into panic by the attack, once the local fighting settled, they all began to converge on Miraval, like a colony of ants returning to their nest. The resounding alarm bells finally rang out, echoing throughout the city. Although the palace's exterior marked the border of Miraval's Remnant Memories, a pitch-black abyss, more and more soldiers poured in from the border, running along corridors littered with the corpses of servants, as if they had emerged from thin air.

Although he was witnessing history, even the decline of the Frankish Empire, the black-armored knight made him think of

Thinking of Cecia, his thoughts inevitably returned to the realities of war. With a strange rationality, he observed every brutal scene, near and far, watching people flee like black ghosts. He tried to peel back the layers of it all—the melee, the slaughter, the devouring, the burning, the screaming—like modifiers. Then, he thought about the purpose of residual memories.

"What have you thought of now?" Ajiehe had followed him for so long that it was easy for her to identify the reason for his silence - most of the time it was because of long thinking.

"There are many things I don't necessarily need to ask Milava about," Cesar said thoughtfully. "First, find Ferrieres. Then, we can slow down and visit the palace where the Fran Empire stores its precious books. Ferrieres craves knowledge and will definitely be willing to take us to rescue the books. With the dog here, she can memorize many of the books that were burned long ago. As long as we can get out, she can write them down one by one."

"What kind of books can an empire newly built from ruins have?"

"War," Cesar said. He stroked the jet-black longsword in his hand. This thing wasn't a product of the mundane world. "For example, the metal casting process that required complex spells to complete, the martial training they underwent, their observation and research of various beastman tribes, their war techniques... and of course, there are also some books that have been preserved from even more ancient times."

"It's your habit to create unnecessary trouble," said Ajiehe.

"I'm just grasping at straws," he denied. "This palace is a shared memory between Milava and Arlanti, as clear as the memory of every corridor, terrace, staircase, and room. As chosen by the god of war Helgast and chosen mages of the Yestren School, they must remember every book in the palace. Even if not all of them, those related to war, magic, and the ancestors..."

"We're like a bunch of thieves, stealing from our master's memories," Ajeh commented. "And we're stealing things when our master's emotions are at their most intense, when other thieves are also stealing things. How ridiculous, Cesar! I thought you were about to wake up, but you were immersed in your residual memories, talking about love with Ferrieres, and almost sacrificed your soul. I thought you were going to immerse yourself in your residual memories to seek love, but you started outlining a blueprint for reality and preparing for the upcoming war?"

"Ultimately, I brought Milava's head to the Tomb of the Wise to uncover the dark side of history," Cesar said, stepping out of the terrace and continuing towards Ferrieres. "Uncovering the dark side of history allows me to be more fully prepared," he said, stepping over the pool of blood on the ground. "But when it comes to countermeasures, these lost knowledge in the remnants of memory are the truly useful countermeasures. The scale of the upcoming war will only grow, and I rely solely on my limited foresight..."

"You are very pessimistic." said Ajiehe.

"I'd say it's impatience," Cesar replied. "Pre-made preparations and assumptions are always subject to unexpected events and deviations. I've experienced this numerous times during the siege of Fort Neuen. The larger the war, the more deviations there will be, and the overall situation will gradually transcend my control. When the war grows so large that the gains and losses of individual cities and towns no longer matter, I won't be able to rush out to put out the fire at the most critical moment. I must make more preparations, obtain more support, and seize more opportunities."

"The Fran Empire..." Ajehe shook her head. "I thought you'd already grabbed enough clues and traces. Don't you find it troublesome? Standing back to back with you is the last descendant of the Kuna royal family. Face to face with you are two generations of mages from the Yesterlen School. Beside you are beastmen, faceless spies from Analik, and a royal descendant of the Kasar Empire with true dragon blood. Now you want to catch the shadow of the Fran Empire again?"

"That's not the truth. The knowledge of the ancient Kuna people is too mysterious and unpredictable. I have no idea what's behind you. Analik's path is even higher than theirs. As for the Kasar Empire, if I want to delve deeper, I'll have to get past either Zaburon or Ferriers, both of which are even more out of reach. As for the Fran Empire, I've already obtained Solaire's ornaments and the heads of Milava and Arlandi. If I delve deeper, I'll have a much better chance of success in the upcoming war."

"What kind of victory do you envision?"

Cesar walked slowly down. "Let's not talk about the economic damage done to Clefas. First and foremost, we must accept the battle against Garcia. We can't allow the rebellious nobles to be wiped out by Garcia after losing Clefas's support. If Garcia wants to appease us first, eliminate the rebellious nobles first, and then turn against me, I'll have to find a reason. Regardless of my previous relationship with those rebellious nobles, they are now our strongest support."

"Sounds like you're going to abolish the kingship in Olidan."

"I don't care," Cesar said, "but if we really want to support them, the ideas and opinions I can offer are definitely better than those of other forces. Once I sit at their conference table, they will know that no one knows how to abolish the monarchy better than me. Then it won't be me who listens to them, it will be them who listen to me."

Ajiehe moved her ears and said, "How do you explain that you are

Do they understand this better?"

"Of course I just knew it naturally."

Chapter 402: Ferriers at Another Age

......

Halfway through the journey, Cesar gazed at the night sky, stained blood-red, and felt a sense of intoxication. Then he realized it was the influence of the path. Blood-red clouds, like shreds of blood-soaked clothing, scattered across the deep, crater-like night sky, as if a slaughter were also taking place in the night sky, echoing the fighting on earth. The blood practically flowed from the sky to the ground, making it impossible to tell whether the ground was the blood-red moonlight or a pool of blood, the same moonlight.

The moonlight became brighter and brighter, as if drops of blood could be squeezed out of the air. The palace became darker and darker. The long corridor in the distance had turned into shadows. Sometimes, scattered blue flames and white lights could be seen flickering under the dark red curtains. These were the lights of magic, and from this point of view, they looked like they were covered by a layer of gloomy and dark gauze.

Was it the remnant memory that had undergone a transformation, or was the events of that year inherently so bizarre? Cesar couldn't tell, but following Milava's remnant memory wasn't reliable; he had to rely on himself to uncover the clues. Furthermore, Milava's own mental state was difficult to determine.

Cesar still remembered Giralo's words that Milava was the recognized Son of God, the Chosen One trained from birth to be the Emperor. Not only did he believe he was the Divine King, but all who knelt under the banner of the Frank Empire also recognized him as the Divine King. Furthermore, his qualifications truly supported his continued victory in war. These two considerations combined to form Cesar's judgment of Milava.

The benefit of this kind of training is that Milava can perfectly utilize his talents and remain unwavering in his choices. No matter how dark the road ahead, he will not stop, for he firmly believes he is destined for victory. However, as victory in war continues, pride will grow, leading to an unimaginably deep-rooted arrogance.

The reason Milava was so easy to talk to must be that he had encountered some unimaginable misfortune in either Allanti or the Kasar Empire. These events were like sharp knives stabbing at his heart, leaving him unable to distract himself or think about anything else. He could only think back to the past, one thing at a time, and finally to the current situation.

In Cesar's view, this kind of powerlessness and distraction is not like letting others go lightly like ordinary people, but more like not having time to care about the dust around him.

Undoubtedly, Milava himself was an unstable factor. The only possibility of his stabilization was if Queen Arranti or the Casar Empire dealt him a fatal blow in his undefeated life, causing him to begin to doubt himself and gain some insights. But for Milava, someone who had always won since birth, a crushing defeat was unimaginable. Self-doubt was difficult for ordinary people, and for someone like him...

However, looking at Milava's remnant's reaction, Cesar couldn't discern anything. He didn't know whether he was harboring extreme madness or rational reflection. After all, a person who was extremely crazy would appear calm.

Because of this, he didn't intend to follow Milava's thoughts any further. He wanted to find what he needed among the remaining memories of Milava and Allandi, rather than drifting with Milava and just grabbing the occasional fallen branches and leaves that drifted to his side.

A sudden roar erupted from the corridor's front, followed by a scattering of blue beams, cracking masonry and trembling the walls. A mighty wave of sound swept past him, like a gigantic monster descending from the sky. Cesar heard an uneasy echo, then saw more flickering blue beams. In a split second, Cesar remembered the spell Diana had cast against the corpse-eaters in the wasteland.

Was there anything about Ferriers that warranted the Beastmen's siege? Or had the Kasar Empire's investigation already reached the Queen's family? Could this be the first encounter between Ferriers and the Kasar Empire?

Cesar quickened his pace, moving closer to Ferriers with unquenchable curiosity. As soon as he stepped out of the hallway, he heard a low, suppressed howl. It was Ferriers's voice, though more mature and huskier than the Ferriers in the auditorium. The howl rolled through the corridor like thunder. As he instinctively shielded his eyes with his fingers, the boundless light transformed into daylight, obscuring the entire hall and reducing the beastmen to mere white silhouettes.

The intense light shimmered and expanded, transforming into waves of impact that surged in every direction of the hall. They shattered the delicate windows of the palace, blew away the doors of the corridors, and carried things, unidentifiable as beasts or humans, against the walls, then burst through the window and door frames like a torrent. Cesar saw the fragments of furniture and the beasts, dead or alive, mingled together, forming a white outline that rolled towards the distant sky.

Cesar groped his way along the wall as he entered the hall. Ajeh had hidden himself within him, and Sefera was supporting him. He could sense the gaps in the torrent and follow them step by step to get closer.

Halfway there, he saw Ferriers. She looked two or three years older, yet her temperament was even darker. She floated in mid-air like a pale ghost, her bare arms engraved with shimmering blue runes. As she spread her arms and screamed, the runes spread across her flesh like water, seemingly flowing through her entire body, surfacing at her ankles and neck.

Cesar had never seen Firth mention this kind of spell, nor had he seen any runes on her. Does this mean that when Firth tore herself apart, there were some spells that she didn't want to pass on to little Firth?

of?

The bright light continued to surge beneath her feet. It was a complexly patterned ring, and from this point it looked like a portal to an alien world, pouring a high-speed torrent into the mortal world. The blue runes on her body grew increasingly dazzling. Most of the Beastmen were swept away by the torrent, but some, like him, were particularly resilient and found a gap in the torrent.

Cesar saw a hunched beastman walking quickly, with a ghost-like barrier around him that deflected a large number of beams of light, and he was approaching Ferriers in the center of the torrent step by step; another beastman was jumping back and forth on the wreckage of furniture and broken bricks in mid-air, almost dancing.

Finally, he approached her. He saw Ferriers's wide-open eyes and gaping mouth, and heard her screams growing louder and louder. Her long, floor-length black robe seemed to rise, and her long, flaxen hair, casually tied up, fluttered in the air like a banner.

She looked more than just gloomy. Her face was filled with wild mania. One moment her brows were lowered like a dead person, but the next moment, when she saw the outline of the beastman in the strong light, her eyebrows were raised high and filled with murderous intent - a rather impure murderous intent, with impatience and mania. It seemed that she didn't care whether the person approaching was a human or a beast. She just wanted to curse everything that approached her.

An unusually sharp beam of light, cloaked in a torrent of intense light, pierced through, seemingly insignificant. However, Cesar had seen Diana use this spell on a corpse-eater's flesh puppet. He immediately dodged the beam of light and simultaneously slashed off his left arm, where it had been pierced by the light—he could have sworn that this self-inflicted blow was the work of Sevra. The next moment, the intense light carved countless zigzags and arcs through the severed arm, shattering it from the inside out into a mass of rotten flesh and shattered bone.

He saw Firiel staring at the beastman who was both a mage and an assassin, and laughing at it. It was hard to understand why Firiel was laughing, but it seemed that her mental state was not very stable. This incident seemed to mean that Sevra, the only person who could stabilize her mental state, was very, very unstable.

She raised her arms higher, and the blue runes covering her body grew brighter. Initially a single point of light suspended in her dancing hair, it suddenly expanded, forming a series of rapidly shifting, brilliant geometric shapes. As the geometric shapes twisted and distorted, they emanated an increasingly intense light, distorting the surrounding torrent and gradually spreading outward around her.

Through this huge distortion, Cesar could barely see her eyebrows rising higher and higher, her eyes gradually widening, staring at the mage assassin who was already close at hand and uttering a word he couldn't understand at all. It didn't sound like a syllable a human could pronounce.

A moment later, the beastman, whose entire body was encased in a barrier, erupted with intense light from within. Its skin cracked like porcelain, and within each crevice, a sun seemed to be hidden. In an instant, the beastman was transformed into a million fragments, swept up in the torrent of light and swept away into the boundless darkness outside the window.

But that dancer was different. It seemed that Ferris couldn't even focus her sight on it. The changing beams of light shuttled around the hall, but none of them hit its strange figure. Every mistake made her more manic.

If only this kind of movement could be taught to the cats that Altinya picked up... they're all beastmen of the feline family, aren't they?

Cesar thought for a moment before transforming into a beast. Seeing this, the beast-man, who resembled a dancer, seemed to understand something and immediately dodged Ferrier's spell, moving with him to two blind spots on Ferrier's side.

If you take care of one, you can't take care of the other.

Perhaps because Cesar was missing an arm, Ferrieres' attention was focused on the more threatening dancer. Taking advantage of her inattention, Cesar inched closer, stretching his arms as far as he could through the turbulent air around her—like traversing the eye of a hurricane. Though his skin was shattered, flesh exposed like buckled wall, he finally grasped her shoulders and, despite her inhuman screams, pulled her into his arms.

Seeing this, the dancers approached immediately. However, in a split second, the beastman collided head-on with Ajehe, who was charging towards him. The beastman's entire neck was bitten by the wolf's bloody jaws, sending it flying. His neck was broken, and his body was dragged dozens of meters on the ground.

"What are you—"

Ferris turned with her eyes wide open, gleaming blue. After a moment's gaze, perhaps a heartbeat or two, she withered, as if struck by frost. Her eyebrows drooped, her flying hair fell to the ground, forming a tangled mess. Even her mid-air posture changed. Her arms, wildly outstretched, drooped, and her straight back hunched, as if she had suddenly become half-dead.