Shadow of the Evil God

Milava, who had been struggling just now, was now too stunned to move. Frost slowly formed on the waves, and the broken ice either shattered or piled up and solidified. In the middle of the lake, a bright, full moon slowly emerged from the water.

Only when the white moon shone with ripples did Cesar see what it was. It was a female face composed of crystal-clear frost and countless thin layers of ice, as vast as a millstone. If she had a full body, she could have grasped it and lifted it into the air like a rag doll. Her eyes were scarlet, like the deceitful prophet, and seemed to bleed. Her lips were also a vibrant crimson, but between them were sharp teeth made of icicles.

"Remember what we said, Mile?" she said softly. "Come here, come to me."

Cesar suddenly realized that the Milava he held under his arm wasn't the Milava of later generations. His memories were still from his youth, and he hadn't yet experienced the betrayal that followed—though Alante wasn't exactly a betrayer. She was simply playing with a beautiful doll, complying with the ancient will. In a sense, they both got what they wanted.

A beautiful rag doll. Can you say that the girl who picked it up and played with it is in love with you? Can you say that the girl found it too old and found a more beautiful rag doll? Is this betraying you?

Milawa murmured, his voice hoarse, "I dreamed of you, I..."

"My will resides in that girl's soul, Mile. She was born for you. Even before you were born, she was watching over you. I'm truly sorry, my dreams were fragmented, and I was never able to show you the complete path. Back then, you felt that the Holy Father couldn't understand your beliefs, but you didn't know that you possessed a path forward that even she couldn't reach. Come and hold my hand, my dear. The people of the Empire all over the world will cheer for you with unprecedented honor."

Milava raised her voice, "Is there something you want from me? Say it!"

Cesar noticed that this man had the idea that others helped him because they wanted something in return, which was somewhat inconsistent with his recent view. Of course, it could also be said that he was proud of those of lower status and treated them casually, but because of Soler, he was wary of those of equal status and adhered to a different way of interacting with them.

"Your love—only your love!" she sighed.

The Frost Girl moved closer. The shattered ice beneath the waves had formed a half-naked human figure, enormous and shimmering with a faint blue hue. She could indeed hold him in her hands and play with him like a rag doll.

Cesar discovered that she was seriously injured by Solaire's arrow. Otherwise, she would not have just used words to persuade Milava to slow her down.

When she almost covered the merpeople, Cesar noticed that her eyes were hollow, like two fake eyes. For a moment, he thought of the mask that the White Nightmare Legatius had used to hide his own face. Her face was as fake as Legatius's, and her eyes were as empty as Legatius's blindness. Remove the mask and you'll see darkness.

"What you said is indeed very touching." Cesar suddenly spoke, and was about to exaggerate the Legotius incident and put it on her. "But I still want to ask, when you sent dreams to this child, why did you also send dreams to me? You promised to crown me, and now you say that all the people of the empire will cheer for him. Could it be that there are two worlds in your world, and you want half to be mine and the other half to be his?"

She tilted her face slightly, and Cesar felt as if a deceitful prophet was staring down at him from beneath her face, as if she wanted to question her own lies but didn't know where to begin. If they had started with matters of love, Mirava wouldn't have understood them at that moment, and any discussion would have been pointless, as she would have brushed them off with a single word. But starting with the empire's borders, the boy felt instantly vulnerable.

They both knew what had been running through Milava's life.

Moreover, it is not entirely a lie,—it is a lie now and in the past, but it will not be a lie in the future.

That is to say, in Alanti's view, it is a destined thing that has not yet happened.

Since Allandi said that she would choose Cesar in today's era, it means that what she said to Milava would be said to Cesar exactly the same, including the so-called dream, which would be sent to him again. The details of the words and dreams would be slightly different, but the core would not change at all.

As long as she allowed her vision to transcend the scale of time, using teleology instead of causality, and summarizing this matter as something that was bound to happen as long as she existed, she would be unable to deny it. Arlandi's personality was such that she didn't care about free will or choice. She simply enjoyed her predetermined fate and the process itself. She knew the outcome she would reach, then walked the path toward it, enjoying it calmly as she went, feeling neither burdened nor uneasy.

Cesar believed that this was true for all those who accepted the ancient will. In contrast, her sister, Ferrieres, was the only one who had escaped the fate of her bloodline in many eras.

To Cesar, it was a casual lie, but to Alante, it was the undeniable truth. Could she deny her own belief?

"In an age of shattered order, many self-proclaimed kings will fight and kill each other." She suddenly spoke, and it seemed that it was Alanti who was speaking. "The one who ultimately wins will be the only one to become the king. The difference between you and others is that when others fail, they will become stones under Milava's feet, crushed to pieces. But you, with my omen, will become his right-hand man, loyally assisting him..."

"What if I tell you that I never had a crown to wear?" Cesar shouted, "What if I tell you that what you see as destined is simply because your vision is limited, and you can only peer upwards from the bottom of a narrow well? After all, you don't know where the Kasar Empire came from, right? Because it was the sin of another immature true dragon. You know nothing about things on this level, you..."

Mirava suddenly reached for his chest, grasping the crystal arrow Solaire had given him. Starlight flickered, and Cesar saw him muttering to himself, emitting an even stronger light. His eyes also became extremely bright, and the shadows of stars appeared in his long black hair, a translucent deep blue. He looked very similar to Solaire, who had pierced the Eye of the Forge with an arrow, like an ethereal girl.

"That's a relic of the Holy Father, something that should have belonged to you, Mile!" Like Cesar, the Frost Daughter launched into a delirious rant. Cesar felt it wasn't Allandi who was speaking, but the deceitful prophet. Each of her ancestors possessed their own strengths; she might be the most compatible, but she certainly wasn't the best at deception. "Seize it, hold it tight, take it away!" she cried.

As she spoke, she struggled forward. Cesar saw the waves surge with her movements, already drowning the kneeling mermaid. Layers of thin ice shattered and reformed against her shell, piling up until it formed a pallid form. In a few heartbeats, she had completed the construction of her upper body, almost ten meters tall.

She had already stretched out her hand to him, but Gouzi had not yet found the direction and was hesitant to grab his wrist. At this moment, Cesar heard Milava's cry of pain, as if he had suffered some injustice.

"This isn't right..." Milava muttered as she clutched onto Solaire's arrow.

"What's wrong?"

"Why does she have a dream that no one knows about, but when it comes to the next generation, she gives me something like this?"

Cesar paused. "You saw Solaire's earliest memory? Well, I must say, at least the living environment she gave you—"

"Don't explain for her," Milawa shook his head and said, his eyes seemed a little dark, "jump into the lake, the way out is over there."

Before Cesar could even consider the subtle shift in the Flan Emperor's mood, the dog had already dragged him forward. The water surged like a tsunami, roaring and crashing against the shore. He plunged into the current, feeling like a branch caught in a torrent, but fortunately, it was held by a silken thread. He was drenched and aching, but the Faceless One's unwavering pace dragged him in a single direction.

After a long moment, Cesar suddenly stumbled and fell from the lakebed onto the carriage seat. Beside him, Alante was unconscious, seemingly still recovering from the injuries she had recently sustained. Considering the sheer force she'd exerted to raise the lake, her injuries might have worsened, but there was no need to worry for the time being.

Besides, this place is still a remnant of Milava's dominance. The already-betrayed Emperor of Farran is much easier to communicate with than the boy back then. As long as we talk openly and honestly...

"I want to know if some of what Allandi said is true or not." Cesar couldn't help but frown at the voice, which was indistinguishable between male and female. Something had gone wrong when the remnants of his memories were switching. He looked up and saw the speaker standing next to him. The person continued, "Can you still stand up?"

"I think......"

"You mean to lend a hand to help you up? I'm not used to it... Never mind." Cesar felt a pair of hands under his arms, delicate, soft, and slightly damp. The slightly resentful tone made him feel even more ominous. He looked up and saw the boy who was riding a horse to chase Solaire.

Where is Emperor Fran? Where is the person who has the ability to deceive Alanti's consciousness?

He tapped his forehead, feeling a headache. "Let me ask, do you still remember what happened many years later?"

Chapter 428 The Gods Have Promised for You, Teacher

"A path to failure," Milawa said nonchalantly. "I see it, but that doesn't mean I accept it. Since the future Milawa has already failed, let him and his failure sink to the bottom of the lake."

"No, that's something that has clearly happened, right?" Cesar couldn't help but say, "The future Milava you mentioned did exist. He did experience failure and pain. He..."

He furrowed his brows, creating furrows on his smooth forehead. "What does another Milava have to do with me? To me, he's nothing more than a failed choice and a failed fork in the road! Even if he were to stand before me in the future, I could draw my sword and kill him, letting him know who the victor is. And he's actually still holding a grudge against a woman who deceived him? Isn't that laughable? These are just worldly excuses, a way to cover up his own powerlessness!"

Cesar felt that Soler hadn't considered educating the child. Of course, given her distorted childhood, it wasn't right to expect her to have such a perspective. "How about at least using him as a book to compare yourself to?" he said. "Or a mirror. Use his mistakes to reflect your future actions."

"What do you mean by this? Are you going to take over the hand of the Holy Father and teach me?"

"In my time, there is no Holy Father, no Soler. It's as if you never existed," he said, his tone soft.

"Those who have disappeared, let them disappear." Milava lowered her voice.

"You too are a vanished being, kid," Cesar pointed out.

"Kid? Don't call me kid like an old man." He glared at him. "You're not much older than me."

"Your Holy Father once called me Father."

"That's just a Kuna time trick! We each call our own!"

"You didn't tell me what you wanted to call me, did you?" Cesar asked, then shook his head. "Never mind. Now that you've seen what you'll experience in the future... well, it's a foreshadowing of a fate you haven't yet experienced, a, uh, fork in the road to failure. Now that you've seen it, can you use his method to seal Alante's consciousness? Once she recovers, we'll be in trouble."

Milava stared at her future queen and couldn't help biting her knuckles.

"Um... um, teacher?"

"What did you say?" Cesar thought he had misheard.

The future Emperor of France hesitated, as if realizing his words had been too rash. "Every time the Holy Father felt I was lacking something, she would find a place to throw me, order me to teach a group of people, and have me obey their instructions. She believed that this way, I could learn from them everything I lacked. Since you hold her token, you should do the same," he explained.

"Isn't Soler responsible for teaching himself?" he asked in surprise.

Milava stared at him. "Yes, she never takes responsibility. She either throws a few teachers at me and then disappears, or she finds a place with a lot of teachers and leaves me there, then disappears again. So, is there any problem with having the future emperor be your student? Do you have any complaints or opinions?"

"I already have a student who will soon be emperor," Cesar said politely. "My only student. Besides, from my perspective, she is the future emperor, and you are the past emperor."

"The outsiders who destroyed the empire?" Milava stared at him.

"Don't look at me like that, child. In my time, the political order of the Kasar Empire and the Frankish Kingdoms was already very clear."

"Who will be the future emperor depends solely on what they do, not what fate foretells." Milava frowned at his address. "I call you teacher simply because I want to make a note of your journey and spare your life if we meet on the battlefield. That's all. I don't need your support for anything, nor do I want anything from you. When I return to this world, you and I will go our separate ways, and have nothing to do with each other."

"Then why do you call me teacher?"

"Then you can take my place..." Milava glanced at Arlandi, who would be pregnant in a few years, "Uh, I don't really want to..."

Cesar blinked and said nothing else.

The still-young Emperor Fran seemed to be trying hard to maintain his composure, breathing slowly, his hand pressed to his chest to soothe his breathing. Cesar suddenly noticed that Milava was sitting a little further away from Arlante. It hadn't been noticeable when they were standing in the middle of the carriage, but now he was sitting, not next to his future queen, but at the far right carriage door. Arlante was by the far left window, with Cesar blocking the way.

Under his messy black hair soaked in lake water was a pale yet flawless oval face with a pointed chin, like an elf in a fairy tale. He seemed to be radiant and spotless, embodying his identity as God's Chosen One.

Cesar couldn't quite say who was prettier, young Milava or young Alante, but if they stood together, they looked like a pair of girls with very different styles and temperaments. One gave people a soft and gentle feeling, while the other was handsome and pretty. Standing together, they would make people feel that they complemented each other perfectly.

Just look at the appearance and temperament, in fact

It's hard to tell that the former is full of evil, possessing the memories of all his ancestors when he was still a fetus, while the latter is arrogant and conceited, even wanting to use his future self as a stepping stone.

Cesar did feel that the young Milava lacked steadiness and was more willful, and would definitely have conflicts with others, but he did not expect that it would be with the future Milava himself.

Who will he have a conflict with next, Alanti?

As soon as he thought of this, Milawa forced himself to examine his future queen with a cold, stern look. "I won't make the same mistake again. I won't be trapped in lies and deception like that loser, who still holds a grudge against a liar even though he's already dead," he declared proudly. "I won't touch her again. I don't need a queen to comfort me!"

With that, the young Emperor Fran immediately turned away, as if to distance himself from this woman who symbolized a different path. Cesar felt that his every word and action was tinged with a childish sense of confrontation, as if he were simultaneously denying his future self and proving that he could take a different path. It was precisely because he was still young, having not experienced the love and loss that Milava would later experience, that he spoke with such confidence and conviction.

"Okay, I'll assume that's what you think," Cesar sighed. "So what should I do for you?"

"Press your finger on her forehead," Mirava said, raising her hand and pressing it against his forehead. "Right here. Next, I'll draw a spell on your forehead based on the loser's memories. You follow my finger and draw it on the liar's forehead. Then I can seal her consciousness."

Does this guy have to call the future Milawa a loser? Cesar wanted to complain, but he found that the child was pressing his forehead very hard and staring at him very intently.

For some reason, this didn't surprise him. Besides Alante, whom Milava now believed to be a fraud, and the loser who had been deceived, that is, Milava himself in the future, what bothered Milava the most was actually Cesar and Soler's experience in the past.

"Do we have to go to such lengths? You won't die if you touch her forehead, will you?" he asked.

"Teacher..." He leaned towards him, his lips slightly parted, and he exhaled slowly, a trace of moist warmth brushing his cheek. "Although I won't ask you to support me in anything, nor will I ask you for anything, but this is a small favor, wouldn't it be a problem for you to help me?"

Cesar knitted his eyebrows together: "When did I promise..."

"The gods have promised you that," Milava interrupted.

"Gods?"

"Do you really want to seal this liar's mind? You were the one who asked me first!"

As Milava spoke, she traced an arc on his forehead. Cesar had no choice but to turn sideways and press his forehead. Then he instructed his dog to hold his wrist and trace it for him, striving to make the trace exactly the same as Milava's. Throughout this process, Milava was half asleep, opening his eyes from time to time and slowly closing them again as Milava whispered, seemingly unable to see anything.

She only said one sentence: "Failure is only temporary. Similar losses have happened more than once in the long river of time. The tomb of the wise man is right under our feet. As long as we continue on the path we took, we can still..."

Cesar wanted to hear her finish, but Milava reached out and covered his mouth, pressing her slender white fingers firmly between his lips. Unsure why, he followed suit, covering Arlandi's mouth and pressing her soft lips together to silence her. A moment later, he realized this wasn't part of the ritual at all; it was simply the young man's unwillingness to hear even a single word from her.

Only after the ritual was complete and Alante had passed out against the carriage window did Cesar finally breathe a sigh of relief. All the while, the young Franco-French emperor kept breathing heavily and nervously beside his ear, occasionally pursing his thin lips for a moment before returning to his nervous breathing again. Although he didn't turn away, he knew his lips curved slightly upward, sometimes unconsciously touching his ear like a gentle kiss.

Honestly, breathing on someone's ear was a test of willpower. The slightly upturned lip line was alluring, and touching the hairs near his ear was incredibly itchy. If Gouzi hadn't held his wrist and outlined the technique for him, he would have poked a finger into Arlandi's eye.

After the incident was over, Milava stared at Arlanti in silence for a long moment before confirming that he had completed the ritual. Then, he calmly returned to the carriage seat, as if everything was under control. Cesar had noticed his heartbeat was so intense it was about to burst out of his throat, but there was no point in exposing him.

But then again, how should he explain to Artiniya that he inexplicably had a new student, who was even a future emperor like her?

If it was just an ordinary person, or any other identity, it would be fine, but this provocative identity...

"Teacher..." Milava started again, "Now that this matter is done, we should discuss letting me out."

Cesar blinked and glanced at him sideways. This guy was really good at making demands and taking the initiative.

"I need..." The boy bit his knuckles. "No,

I alone can guide you along the wrong paths of losers and swindlers. If you can find a way to get me out of here, you won't have to risk exploring that sewn-up head again."

Chapter 429: Fluctuating Gender Characteristics

......

Milawa's proposal still needed to be considered, and besides, how to fulfill his request was also a troublesome matter. In addition, if things really developed to this point, he would not be able to see Ferriers of different ages. Thinking of this, he was actually a little hesitant.

Thinking of this, Cesar took the boy out of Alanti's carriage and decided to meet Ferriers first.

He remembered that when he had taken Soin from the edge of the abyss, the girl was still young, only thirteen, already climbing cliffs and going hunting. Now he had taken Milava from his memories. This boy was actually about the same age as Soin back then, but the difference was that he had already undergone a vast amount of education that would be difficult for an ordinary person to complete in their entire lifetime. Not only did he learn the art of war, but he had also memorized and studied a vast amount of historical biographies and ancient texts.

According to Mirava, Holy Father Solaire traveled around studying and exploring ruins during the transition period, gradually acquiring knowledge that was unimaginable to people, and all of this determined the way she would train Mirava.

By the time of Milava's generation, she had tossed the young Saint Son from one school to another and from one territory to another, assigning him a student and demanding he follow the path she had once walked. He was unquestionable in every decision she made. When Milava's previous studies came to an end, Solaire would whisk him away, to another school and another territory, vanishing without a trace as he embarked on his next journey.

Because of this nomadic life, Milava has a rather aloof air. It can be seen that he not only went to study, but also went to various schools and territories to show what the difference is between the chosen Son of God and the mortals.

Given this child's appearance and temperament, he would not only be superior in knowledge and martial arts, stepping over the heads of the gifted young people of his generation to rise to the top, but would also capture the hearts of many people, both men and women, the moment he left. In a practical sense, he could be said to have been cultivating his own followers from a young age.

Seeing the world and traveling to study should be a process that teaches humility, but for Milava, it only made him more arrogant and convinced that he was superior and different from everyone else. In other words, Alante was born a different person, possessing the memories of all her ancestors before she was born, and her strange personality was born under the watchful eyes of all her ancestors. If it were someone else, it's hard to say how they could handle him.

But precisely because of this, and because Milava regarded mortal men and women as vulgar objects, unworthy of lingering, he fell in love with his unfathomable queen with a sense of destiny. Thus, he fell into the trap she had carefully laid before he was born, and was ultimately dealt a fatal blow.

The difference between actually experiencing failure back then and foreseeing future failure while still a child was actually quite significant. In other words, the difference between the middle-aged Milava, whose gaze held a look of frustration, and the boy beside him who saw Allandi as a thorn in his side, was unimaginably vast.

The former wanted to let go but couldn't, repeatedly recounting the rise and fall of the empire but unable to conceal his melancholy and loneliness, while the latter simply regarded the former as a failure, devaluing it beyond measure. The child refused to acknowledge that the other Milava was his destiny, and even refused to acknowledge that he was himself.

As he pondered this, Cesar caught a glimpse of Ferrieres's figure not far away. Milava was still warily watching the unconscious Arlandi in the carriage, her gaze completely oblivious to the woman emerging from the shadows. Cesar remained silent, simply admiring her figure. He wanted to see her more clearly, to understand how much Ferrieres had changed since the girl engraved with blue runes after so many years.

Ferriers walked towards her sister's carriage, but she did not see him and Milava beside him, just like those who have determined the direction will not pay attention to the people and things on the roadside.

She is indeed such a person. In some ways, she is much more eccentric than Milava. Her habit is not to look down on others, but to ignore them. People who do not appear on her path do not even exist to her.

The morning light gradually revealed the outline of Ferriers. Although she was taller and not as thin as before due to being forced to march on the battlefield, she was still gloomy and even walked away from the sun. In her hands, she was holding a stack of books, as if to declare that she would never allow anyone to disturb her.

"You like this weird girl?" Milava looked at Ferriers as she approached the carriage. "She looks like a shadow moving on its feet. She's the exact opposite of you."

"My opposite? Are you sure? I don't think I've told you much about myself, have I?"

"I've followed you all this way in my youthful guise as the Holy Father. I already know exactly who you are," he replied nonchalantly. "Why are you glaring at me? She was the one who asked me to walk the same path she walked. Why can't I walk this path too?"

Cesar sighed. "What's the point? That's not your own experience."

"I'm not sure yet," Mirava said thoughtfully, "but I think it was perhaps because of this lack of experience that the loser Mirava met the end of the empire's destruction and her own death. The Holy Father said that I should walk her path again, but he hid such a crucial part of the journey, which just shows that she herself has been blinded by selfish desires. Now is the time for me to examine and correct her mistakes."