Shadow of the Evil God

Whether it's the continuation of my life, the inheritance of the Yesterlen School's memories, or any other intention that you consider grand, aren't they all the same thing? "

Cesar tried to organize his words, but she spoke too much and too fast, oppressing his soul and leaving them no chance to breathe.

The prophet's voice grew increasingly low and mournful. "Whether it was the Kuna who annihilated the other tribes of the Dark Ages, or the Beastmen who annihilated the Kuna tribe, or the Frank tribe who later defeated the Beastmen tribe, they were all stopped by the swords of outsiders. Whether it was nobles or kings, commoners or nobles, beasts or humans, all these seemingly grand and significant things, these countries, tribes, politics, wars, honor, freedom, and love, will they not all be like the fossils of a few blind spirits in the valley, vanishing in the blink of an eye?"

As Ferris remained silent, and intense emotions welled up within him, Cesar felt a growing sense of unease. While he couldn't resist this gaze, he could find another way: confront her with it. He wasn't sure if such a challenge would be meaningful, but if he could awaken Ferris, the corrupted character, and get her to control her prophet, her sister, then there was still a chance of redemption.

"Then what are you?" he asked in return.

"I think I may be a witness to time and years. Have you ever thought of this possibility?" said the prophet.

"To whom will you bear witness? And for whom will you bear witness?"

"How would I know that?" she asked. "However, since Ferriers said my origins date back to the beginning of time, and that I have passed down lost history and past times through successive generations, then perhaps I haven't witnessed them for anyone. I simply recorded them, and I consider the transmission of knowledge itself my mission."

"If you think all this is as meaningless as our lives, why would you disrupt our lives for the sake of your mission?"

"This..." Her eyes rolled. "I think it's to give you hope and salvation at the right time. As an observer, I record everything. Back then, I helped the Franks establish the faith of the Temple of the Gods and ended the advent of Anarik through the Age of Gods Tour. If people reach the moment of inevitable destruction again, isn't it time for me to appear again? I can bring you enlightenment and hope, and let you know how to fight destruction. Do you understand what I mean, my dear?"

"That hope is now in my hands."

The Prophet blinked, "Um...what are you talking about?"

"I said," Cesar raised his voice, "your so-called hope is in my hands. Your so-called hope—your hope of reaching the deepest part of the Tomb of the Wise, your hope of continuing the memory from the beginning of time to the present, your hope of giving the world what you call enlightenment, the hope of whether my child will become the next generation of the Yestren School—all of this is in my hands."

"What do you want to say?"

"If I throw you into the abyss, you will die here. I have seen the Dragon's Dream being polluted and eroded, and I know that if I throw you in, you will be polluted and eroded, and you will never be able to speak as eloquently as you do now. I will really throw that rotten head into the abyss with you, do you believe it, Prophet?"

Perhaps because his words were too straightforward, Ferriers stared at him for a long time with wide eyes, unable to speak. The prophet also remained silent, looking at him with his head tilted.

"I still love you, my dears," she said slowly. "Whether it's a few days, decades, or even hundreds of years, the impression left in my memory will be the same. I won't feel pain from loss, nor will I be driven crazy by the passage of time. Even those vivid memories will not fade. They will be repeatedly experienced and remembered by generations. In this long history, you are the people closest to me. With so much love, so much devotion, so many people who have gone on to succeed you, your memories will coexist with the history and years that I have recorded as the most glorious moments."

"I'm not here to dedicate myself, nor to sacrifice myself." Cesar held Ferriers' hand in his. "I want to get what I want, I want to change what I want to change, and I want to save what I want to save. All of this is my will, and I want to do it myself. This is my selfish desire, my pursuit, and my salvation, and has nothing to do with you or your revelation. Even if you want to come over, you have to listen to me and be my tool, not me listening to you and being your tool."

The prophet frowned slightly. "You are obviously a man who is not afraid of death and sacrifice, Cesar. Why do you speak to me like this? I thought you could be the hero and savior of this era."

Cesar shook his head, grabbed Ferriers's hand and placed it on his face. "Listen, I love you, and this love is different from that of your sister and your ancestors. So I want to tell you that nothing is left of the death and sacrifice she talked about. Those so-called memories and records will be just empty words in the future. They will be thrown into the corner of memory and abandoned like a pile of garbage by more evil things like Arlanti. But in my private wish, I will keep everything, just like I pieced together your past bit by bit from the remaining memories. I will bring you back to life and let all those we care about be remembered.

Some people survived.”

"You can't do such a thing." The prophet stared at him and said, "You are just making promises casually, Cesar. I know you are particularly fond of making promises casually. After making a promise, you are always unsure of what to do, so you can only take one step at a time with a confused look on your face, until you stumble upon an opportunity to fulfill the promise, and then you finally breathe a sigh of relief. How empty! Such empty promises..."

"She just needs to believe in me," Cesar glared back. "If she believes in me, I'll grasp every hope for our selfish wishes. If she believes in you, you'll just turn all of this into another pile of garbage in the corner of my memory, abandoned by more evil creatures like Alanti. Does it matter if I can achieve it in the end? I just need to believe what I want to believe. I think I can do it, and then persuade people to support me. All this hope will be in my hands, and I will be the one to decide our future fate."

"You..." Her brows furrowed even deeper.

"Subdue her," Cesar raised his voice to Ferrieres, "subdue both her and your sister. This way, Milava, someone who has never accepted the mother in her dreams, can take over the ancestral memory. Regardless of history and time, our experiences over the years only show one thing: she deserves to suffer, and it's time for us to avenge the accumulated hatred. She should be our tool, should satisfy our hopes, not the other way around. This is selfishness, a beautiful selfishness! Revenge is also a kind of selfishness, sometimes even more wonderful than love. Why can't we enjoy it? Just because it will disappear in the future?"

He suddenly realized that he spoke a bit like the devil in the story.

Chapter 450 Who is the Sister?

"I have no intention of confronting you," the prophet began. "However, others have their wishes. Some things should be discussed between you two."

Cesar knew who it was without hesitation. He gestured to the dog behind him, telling her to call for help, and then took a small step back with Ferris. Her oval face had become slimmer, and her features had transformed from androgynous to perfectly feminine. This prophet was truly adept at stirring up conflict among his descendants.

"I thought you always had to listen to me, Finny. Isn't the compensation we've made so far enough?" Alante said, trying to use her sister status to overwhelm Ferrieres. Cesar saw that she had frost in her mouth, her hair was as white as snow, and even her clothes were covered in frost. He felt that she was becoming more and more like Dongye, or it was obvious that she was Dongye.

Cesar felt it was strange that all the leaders of the Yesterlen School, from Allandi's generation to Diana's mother's, were actually her, or even part of her. But then he thought again, the Yesterlen School's existence was strange to begin with, so this one thing was not a big deal. The most important thing was to get Diana out of her school.

As he pondered, he found his fingers inexplicably stiff, his breath turned into white mist, and his skin seemed to be covered in ice. He couldn't help but miss the Secret Stone. If it weren't for the fact that he couldn't bring it in, he would have plunged the invisible assassin's blade into the heads that Milava and Alanti had stitched together.

"You always make decisions on your own, don't you, sister?" Ferriers glared at her.

"You still look dissatisfied, but I still remember that Sevra was delivered to you from my snake belly, and the same thing happened to the little she-wolf behind you. Have you forgotten the joy we felt then?"

At first, the young girl, Alante, was only twelve or thirteen years old. With every word she spoke, she seemed a year older, closer to the authoritative Empress of the Empire. Although her personality, a demonic creature born from the memories of a dozen generations of ancestors, could never grow up, the authority and tone she emulated were indistinguishable from those of the real Empress. Upon first meeting Alante, even Cesar couldn't discern her true self beneath her persona.

This acting seemed effortless to Alante; it was no longer an act, a mask she put on and took off at will. Beneath the mask, Alante remained unchanged. At this moment, she donned the mask of queen once more, using the same calm demeanor she had used to admonish her sister in the hall where they had been attacked, to pressure Ferris to answer her questions.

They always say that the perfect actor can throw himself completely into the role of the stage, and it is clear that Alante is such a person. If Cesar had not been so impressed by her original appearance, he would have thought that she had become a formidable queen.

She is acting, but does she understand the meaning of her acting?

"I won't forget," Ferriers said softly, "but you've done too much that you can't make up for, sister."

Just as the conversation was about to fall into Alante's usual flow, Cesar grabbed Ferrier's hand and pulled her a step behind him. "No," he said, shaking his head gently. "Don't talk to her like that. She's acting, using the most convincing mask of the past few decades to oppress you, but this is not her true self."

"This is not her..." Ferris bit her lip.

"What are you talking about?" Alanti stared at him. "What do you think you're doing? Using your identities as a servant and a slave to sow discord between your two mistresses?"

Cesar put his arm around Ferriers' waist to steady her steps.

"Allandi was like this before she was born, and she was like this when you were born. She was still like this when she was in her teens and took you everywhere. Even after decades, when she became a respected queen, she is still like this. She has never changed." He hugged her shoulders and said, "Listen to me, my master. You are a grown woman now, and she is the little girl who has not grown up. You don't need to argue with her. You just need to educate this naive and cruel sister like an older sister."

Ferriers pursed her lips even more tightly, her gaze gradually rising to meet Arlandi's. "You're right, I'm the older sister now. There's no need to discuss this anymore."

"You really speak like a demon," Arlandi said to him. "No wonder our ancestors said that the next generation of inheritance might start with you. Even my school will be overthrown by you."

Cesar didn't want to respond to her at all. At this point, he didn't need to refute the accusations.

"You've been lurking in the Yesterlen School like a terrifying shadow for too long, mistress," he said in a deep voice. "Even in my time, someone was harmed by you. And just like back then, you cared for her like a sister. Not only did you gain her complete trust, but you ultimately replaced her completely, imprisoning her in your cage to keep her company with your own shadow. I suspect you would have treated Firiels the same way if she lacked the talent of a mage, am I correct?"

"Isn't it enough to leave a window for those without qualifications to see the people and things outside? Cutting off a part of yourself to protect my school is already a great sacrifice, but the ancestor thinks that I haven't done enough? I have the ability to break free from the embrace of the earth and reach the highest point, but she wants me to give up everything I have and sacrifice for her hope? You are the ones who have too many annoying demands! I have done everything I should do and made up for my

Everything that can be made up for.”

Arlandi extended her hand, and a chill so cold it could almost stop the mind cascading outwards, transforming the entire riverbed in her memory into a vast expanse of white. "Come to me, Finnie," she said. "You are my beloved sister. I promised you that we would always be by each other's side, and I will certainly keep my promise. You, and our shared servant, we..."

"Now I'm a sister!" Ferriers shouted.

Cesar felt an invisible pressure suddenly build up around him, blurring his vision. In the blink of an eye, he was joined by a piercing cold wave not far ahead of him. The frozen ground gave way, collapsing and trembling violently. Stone and ice shattered and disintegrated, whistling in all directions. The entire riverbed suddenly became the horizon of dawn, a vast expanse of intense white light, then extinguished by a pale, all-encompassing fog of dust.

The shock and vibration beneath his feet intensified, and the magical confrontation engulfing the dust and mist before him intensified. But Firiel was only a remnant of a remnant, and soon, he could no longer maintain the resistance. César clutched her tightly and leaped back, stepping on floating shards of ice as he traversed the pale mist, a piercing cold vortex swirling behind him. For a moment, he felt like he was escaping a blizzard.

With him at her side, Firiels abandoned all defenses, focusing solely on resisting the spells poured down from Alanthi. The icy plains were spreading, the ground still crumbling, and a cloud of dust, swirling with frost, washed over them with a fury that had nowhere to vent. The spell seemed to assert Alanthi's authority, a warning to her younger sister not to attempt to overthrow their position. Was it a lesson? Perhaps.

"I'm your sister, Finny. You've never beaten me before, so don't think you can now!"

Ferris continued to fight, but Cesar could feel the waves of pursuit behind him growing more intense. One moment, they seemed more than ten meters away, and the next, they were close at hand, pressing down on him from behind. Ferris instinctively raised a barrier, but it shattered immediately, the sound of the rupture like thunder.

He hugged her tightly and rolled over ten times in the cold plain, feeling the cold sweeping through his limbs and the frosty air seeping into his body. A breath that made his mind stagnate blocked his limbs that he wanted to tear open, making it completely impossible for him to emerge from the Scarlet Realm.

"My spells are designed to seal cursed beings like you." Alanti slowly descended from the sky, her white hair fluttering behind her. Amidst the frost and snow that filled her vision, they resembled ripples on a pond. "Neither you nor your rebellious servant can defeat me, Finny. Now, you must stand beside me obediently and call me sister. And you must kiss my feet, scream 'Master,' and swear an oath to me..."

Suddenly, her words were interrupted as a sharp blade pierced her back and emerged from her throat. A surge of white frost immediately gushed out along the wound opened by the blade tip. A strand of black hair flew behind her, and Cesar realized it was Sevra.

Yarlandi cursed loudly and attacked backwards. A hundred sharp chains stabbed at her from every direction, intending to tear her to pieces. But at this moment, Ajehe had already appeared on the body of the little Ajehe who had followed him all the way. She grabbed the black blade and rushed forward, like a mad beast.

The moment the sharp blade tore through her defensive spell and pierced her abdomen, Cesar realized that the sword was from Zavulon's collection.

Arlandi stumbled back, covering her mouth and eyes with her hands, unwilling to let go. But an intense white light permeated through her fingers, seeping outward along her mouth and eyes. He saw the overflowing light dancing through the wind and snow, like many winding, luminous rivers flowing toward the longsword. She screamed with a terrifying voice, causing the icy plains on both sides of the riverbed to expand and the wind and snow to dance wildly, but it could not stop the flow of light, nor could it push away the she-wolf that was pressing down on her.

"It's sucking souls..." Ferriers stared at the sword.

Zhawulong's collection was even more sinister than he had imagined.

Seeing that Allandi's white hair was turning black, Cesar realized that if he stabbed her again, Milava would be dead. He shouted loudly: "Take out the sword now! We need Milava!"

Ajeh clenched her sword and stumbled back. Alante had vanished, leaving only the dark-haired Milava unconscious. But the sword in her hand seemed not to exist solely to absorb such a terrifying soul. Previously pitch black, it was now frozen by Alante's soul, oozing with faint blue veins. As Ajeh took a step back, frost crept up her wrist, threatening to shatter her heart.

"Throw that thing away!" Firiels shouted. "This soul-devouring sword can't devour Allandi. It's about to be devoured instead!"

Cesar noticed that Allandi was still the more sinister. Ajeh frowned, seemingly possessed by mixed feelings towards Ferrieres, but ultimately she dropped Zavulon's sword. He helped Ferrieres over to the sword's side, watching as she bent over and chanted a spell, gradually pressing down the veins on the blade. Seeing the situation stabilize, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

At this time, Sevra also came over. Although there was a cut from shoulder to collarbone, she looked fine. "You really like to cause trouble." Her dark eyes were as still as dead water, without any ripples. "But it's a good thing that this guy is sealed. She can't stuff you into a rag doll anymore.

. "

"She probably didn't expect to be sealed in a sword." Cesar said, "How are you doing?"

"It's nothing serious," Sevra said. "It's just that the wound is sealed with frost and seems to be seeping in. What can you do? How about giving me some blood?"

"I was actually asking about things outside of Remnant Memory..." Cesar said, turning around. "It's rare for you to say that."

Without a knife, he bit his finger slightly and tentatively brushed across the blue-stained wound on her shoulder, spreading a bright red line all the way to her collarbone. The bone was broken there, but she didn't seem to care, simply staring down, lost in thought. Her skin was crystal white, a hint of coldness seeping through. A pale breast was faintly visible beneath the torn collar of her dress. Though not impressive, it was very soft and seemed just right for holding in one hand.

"Do you think it's normal to desire yourself?" Sevra asked.

"Is this some kind of nonchalant irony?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said, "but I'm not often sarcastic...Give me your hand, Cesar."

Sevra took his hand and rubbed his wound twice with her index finger, spreading the blood. Then she lifted his hand and placed it on her cheek. She casually brushed it with the delicate tip of her tongue, prying open the wound with a slight sting. Before he could notice anything was wrong, Ajeh had already raised her voice.

"I think I'm the only one here, Sevra. What's wrong with you? Didn't the priest say that one person must stay outside?"

Chapter 451 You are very imaginative

Sevra didn't care, it seemed she never had. Her eyes were like a blinding void, like a mirror, reflecting Cesar before her, trapping him deep in the bottomless darkness of her heart.

He saw many dead versions of himself.

Had this person already been there when they entered the Tomb of the Wise? Did she leave her remnant after this moment and search for and kill every Cesar in the Tomb of the Wise? Or did she finally return here after searching for and killing every Cesar in the Tomb? Or had she already completed so many cycles, creating a perfect circle for this experience, and was now intoxicated by it, longing for more cycles of self-destruction?

Perhaps, Cesar thought, perhaps he was standing here not because he had reached here through the grave without any hindrance, but because all the other forks in time that had not been able to come here had been cut off by her, and all the other Cesars who had not been able to come here were also dead.

"Do you want to know what happened during this period?" Sephora suddenly asked him.

Cesar stared at her. Perhaps this was necessary to acknowledge her existence. "Not just this time, but everything," he said.

"You can't know everything." She sighed and leaned in close to him, so close that her breath hit his face, their lips only half a finger's distance apart. "There are too many forks in the road and too many subtle changes. The changes are endless. Because of this, I thought I would get bored, but I won't, because there are always different new feelings..." She whispered, "Every time you fall, the expression on your face will be slightly different. No two times are exactly the same."

"Death aside," Cesar said, "I don't think it's fair that only you have these memories. No matter how many forks in the road you've taken, you should give me a copy of them too."

An unsettling smile appeared on her face, and the fingers of her left hand seemed to be stroking the blade, making a slight rubbing sound. "Try to take another step forward?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Sevra retreated like a ghost. Cesar took a step forward and grasped her wrist. A sudden wave of longing washed over him, accompanied by a sharp, sharp pain. He felt as if his hand, which was holding her wrist, had been severed, but the pain was mixed with a numbing pleasure. He leaned forward and kissed her. She was still staring at his knife-grip hand, so she didn't have time to move away.

He didn't know whether it was too late or he didn't want to.

Of course, the kiss didn't last long. It was brief and confusing, and he didn't know if it was beautiful or not. It was just a touch of lips. But in that moment when their lips touched, he took in many things.

In the maze of time in the tomb, many diverging and converging times weave a web and intertwine. In most time forks, neither of them exists, in some time forks, she exists but he doesn't, in others, he exists but she doesn't, and in still others, they both exist.

At this moment, perhaps because Ferris happened to be here, Sephora miraculously said a few words to him; at other times, Ferris was not here, so she walked past him silently and took his life quietly; at other times, he was not here, but she was there, so she and herself at that moment intersected with each other, just like Cesar took away many of Ferris's memories, and then her longing became stronger.

There were times, of course, when he and his companions had nearly killed her, and then Sevra would drift away like a ghost, returning to the hearts of other Sevras on other paths. In that moment, she would become an unsatisfied longing, and so on, the longing would accumulate...

Cesar was slightly shocked. "Now is the moment we are closest to the end of the Tomb of the Wise." He said, "The next decision will determine which fork in the road we will take to get out of the maze."

"It's also possible that no matter which fork in the road you take, you won't be able to get out of the maze." She smiled and said, "Among these countless forks in time, there are very few that can lead out of the maze. As long as I find those forks, I can cut it off."

"Do you want to stay here forever with corpses and memories? The more forked roads you take, the fewer Cesars there will be left alive."

"It's impossible for only corpses to remain," Sephora denied. "Because time will always extend new forks, leading to more different futures. There are countless futures and countless forks in the road, and I will always be able to find different moments and different you."

"But you never kissed me on any of the forks, not even just now, for the first time."

"My desire is not similar to yours. I just want to taste blood," she said.

"I've already sacrificed so much of my life, why can't you just give me a simple kiss? After you kiss me, I might be willing to sacrifice my own life. Have you ever seen this possibility? I haven't seen it, right?"

Sephora blinked. "You have a great imagination."

She tilted her face forward slightly, their lips touching, and for a moment, Cesar felt the shock he had just felt. He felt as if the Tomb of the Wise was filled with invisible people. They were him, Sefera, Ajeh, and Aya, all hidden in the many forks of time, rushing and bustling, trying to reach the end of the Tomb of the Wise.

The closer you get to the end, the fewer forks there are, and some of them are cut off in strange ways, undoubtedly because they were cut off for her.

This is the terrifying labyrinth the wise man built with the abyss at its bottom. He may be the only Kuna who knows that he was once a blind demon.

Cesar pondered for a moment, then, under her inexplicably expectant gaze, reached out his right hand, grasped her knife-wielding hand, and stabbed himself. For a moment, she truly felt an unprecedented curiosity. He had already grasped her hand tightly, and with extreme concentration, he brought the blade to bear on her chest, creating a small wound. As he stabbed deeper, her gaze and mind grew increasingly focused.

The next moment, Ajeh had thrust the sword that Firiel had just sealed into his chest through his back, piercing hers directly, impaling them both on the same sword. He still held her wrist tightly, his fingers digging into her skin, breaking her bones. Although her smile had softened, he suspected she was somewhat annoyed, though he couldn't see it.

For someone who is extremely paranoid, the best way is to give in to her desires and then strike when she is least prepared.

"As soon as I'm out," Cesar whispered to her, putting his arm around her waist, "there won't be any Cesars left in this place."

"Why do you want to go out?" she asked.

"Because your emptiness will accumulate more and more, and no matter how many Cesars die, it won't satisfy you."

"What's wrong with the eternal pursuit?"

"I feel bad."

"I will never be tricked into kissing you again next time," she said with a frown.

This matter was actually quite trivial. Of all the forked paths Sephora showed her, only one led to her killing Ajeh, not one where Ajeh killed her. After all, among those paths, there was even one where Cesar unexpectedly killed her, so it was impossible for Ajeh not to have one. The only explanation was that, when Ajeh faced her alone, she consumed her and her scattered memories.

Cesar held her close, feeling the life in Sevra fade away in his arms. "Eat her memories of this fork in the road," he said.

He watched as Ajeh approached her from behind, gently grasped her shoulders, bit her neck with her fangs, and swallowed something ethereal along with her blood.

Feeling Sevra dissipate in his arms like a wisp of mist, he breathed a sigh of relief, yet also a sense of loss. Seeing Ajeh savoring Sevra's blood with her slender wolf mouth, he couldn't help but kiss her. The touch of lips quickly turned into a lingering intertwining of lips and tongues. As she bit his mouth, the wolf's face transformed into a soft, human one.