Shadow of the Evil God

"Good intentions?" Ajiehe blinked.

"Two plagues of thought have converged within this wise man's soul. One carries untold pain and trauma, overflowing with endless chaos and disorder, while the other contains eternal silence and solemnity, woven together by all the Kuna people throughout history. It was this wise man who sealed the True Dragon and annihilated almost every other race besides the Franks. Back then, he was merely the True Dragon's first student, yet now he bears the mark of so many lives. What fate awaits us today? Do you anticipate the evil beyond this world?"

"I wasn't expecting much," Sefrah said, "but I thought you took the scepter that guy offered you. Am I right?"

"Is it obvious?" Milawa smiled.

Come.

"The one who made the agreement with you was a wise man who was still struggling with the curse of two ideological plagues, not this kind-hearted dregs among us." Sevra stared at him. "Milawa... did you actively push him, or did you reach an agreement with a part of his consciousness that was more in line with your pursuits?"

Chapter 474 You annoying little goblin

"It seems to me," Milava said slowly, "that two plagues of thought have penetrated the world's surface, like the breaking down of an impenetrable wall. One is like a carefully crafted siege engine, calculated to use the principle of leverage to hurl huge rocks into the air and bring down a massive wall. The other is like a raging fire, allowed to spread, and the destruction of an impenetrable city-state can be achieved. If these two could be brought together, war would no longer be confined to the mundane realm."

"Where do you want to throw the rock, where do you want to set the fire?" Sefrah asked him.

"Everything that exists outside the human world yet constantly disrupts it." Milava raised her head. "I've pondered many times how I can avoid a tragic end, and so has that wise man." He looked across the cracks in the valley, at the crumbling Kuna Wall. "Self-salvation seems like a path, but why do I need to save myself? And who defined sin for me?"

Ajiehe leaned one hand against the rock wall, observing the old emperor muttering to himself. "Isn't your current fate due to your own actions? You've incurred hatred and are now seeking revenge. What does this have to do with sin?" she asked.

Milava shook his head. "Sin—that's the term the Pantheon uses." He looked down at Ajeh. "If measured by mortal standards, I'd already driven the Pantheon to the edge of the world. No matter what, they couldn't cause any trouble, nor should they."

"But the gods always respond to their calls. Even if it's just some decrepit monks standing on a few broken tiles and ruins, they may be able to summon the Eye of the Furnace." said Ajeh.

"But why?" Mirava asked, "Why is the exile I carefully planned defined as a sin? Why can the monks and priests who are already lingering on still receive miracles from beyond the mortal world? Why do the beastmen who died at the hands of the Empire return to the mortal world again and again, as if they are not even part of the definition of life and death?"

"Because that's the way the world works," Sevra said.

"Listen, Beastmen, Kuna, and this speechless Frank. I say this neither to express hostility nor to win allies. I am simply telling you what I fear and what I intend to do. If you wish to uphold this ancient order, to protect the gods and their acolytes, then draw your swords and hinder me. If you wish to participate in the forging of a new order, then sheath your swords and follow me."

"I could just stand here and do nothing," Sephora denied. "I don't care about the transition from the old to the new order, or what the world will look like in the end. The only part that cares about it is the person behind me."

"How sad it is that it has nothing to do with me..."

Milawa sighed, carrying the diminutive old man on his shoulders and continuing up the cliff. However, the emotion on his face could no longer be concealed; there was no sense of disappointment or dejection, only a sense of contentment that everything would eventually go as he wished. What was hidden behind this expression?

Sevra wanted to say something more, but Ajeh simply placed a hand on her shoulder and gestured to the Faceless behind them, silencing her. "Let's talk about it once we get there, what do you think, Sevra? At least now, we can still complete the last leg of our journey in peace."

......

As usual, Gouzi relayed what she had seen and heard from Sevra, including every move and word of old Milava. After hearing the old emperor's thoughts, Cesar was fine, but the young emperor beside him was visibly worried.

"Things must not be as simple as old Milawa said." Milawa said, and he was very anxious when he thought that old Milawa not only regarded him as a remnant, but also had a deeper pursuit than him and exercised a more insightful vision than him.

Cesar, of course, had to offer him another perspective. "The miracles wielded by the Pantheon," he said, his voice slowing, "are actually a kind of check and balance, an indestructible blade placed in the Outlands."

"I know about this." Milawa said anxiously, but seeing Cesar's expression, he slowed down his tone, "I'm sorry, I... please continue."

The snake was tearing a narrow gap at the bottom of the Wall of the Ancients, tearing it deeper and deeper. Cesar leaned in and squeezed in with it, and Milava followed. Cesar reached out and held him to his chest, stroking his soft black hair.

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes."

"Milava said this in a surprisingly low voice. After the hard battle at the bridge, this guy had become a bit of an emperor, but now that he had just recovered from his trance and heard something like this, he was immediately returning to his other nature.

It seemed that when Allandi split Milava, he gave all his feminine side to the younger Milava, while the other conflicting parts mostly remained with the older Milava. This guy rarely transformed into a man, but when he did transform into a woman, it was often just because of some subtle thought.

Cesar looked at him. "Think carefully, peel back the old emperor's words, Mile, and consider the purpose behind them. What he described is the words he used to incite others, and these words themselves are filled with emotion, moral statements, and hidden purposes. You must combine your memory to think about what he really wanted."

"Of course I want the splendor of the empire."

"so what?"

“So he did

Found the hope of completely eliminating the hidden dangers of the Temple of the Gods!" He raised his voice, "Isn't this the best way? He even allowed the Faceless One to hear his words and pass them on to us. He is not afraid that we will know, not afraid that I will know! Because I have already, I can't help but admit him..."

Cesar observed the man's mixed emotions of excitement and panic, and thought, no wonder the historical Milava had been able to so perfectly suppress the shadows of his childhood and become the God-Emperor. Even with a split personality, his Chosen Emperor self easily overwhelmed the other. The old emperor didn't even need to speak face to face; he only needed to pass his words through the Faceless One's megaphone, and the young Milava would lose her hard-won confidence.

He watched as the figure in his arms grew more delicate, or perhaps even more like a fragile porcelain doll. His hand, resting on his chest, had only moments before been able to grip a sword, but now it was as delicate as that of a young noblewoman, pure white and cool, as tender as a lily freshly plucked from the rain. The blood staining his hand didn't look like the result of a swordfight, but rather like a finger lacerated by a rose thorn.

"I understand," Cesar said. "You seek, but you can't find. You're still picking up the shells that old Milawa left behind in the sand when the tide receded, but he's already seen something far higher. You feel powerless—you don't have the power to say he shouldn't exist, and you don't have the courage to say you should exist."

"I can't help wanting to rely on you now, Teacher... If I can't rely on you, I can't help wanting to retreat into the complete soul of Milava."

Milava panted softly, as if speaking were draining her of energy. His hand rested on his chest, originally intended to conceal it, but at that moment, the round curve of the girl's breasts could no longer be concealed with one hand. When the collar of her dress opened, Cesar could clearly see the thin crimson edge, like a blood-stained pearl hidden under a thin silk scarf.

Now he still treated the young Milava with the same words he would use for a man, not only for his request, but also to maintain his existence and prevent him from completely submitting to the old emperor.

"Listen," Cesar said, shaking Milava's restless hand. "Listen, poor child, you must clearly distinguish between you and him, and think clearly about how you are better than him. Even if you were once the same person, even if he achieved great things, there is no reason why one's character is necessarily inferior to the other. Old Milava, is all he wants the glory of the empire?"

He murmured to himself, "It is a person who is not constrained by anything..."

"Yes, unfettered by anything. Do you understand what I mean?" Cesar said. "Not only can the gods and pantheons not interfere, but no outsiders can provoke. Can you imagine that if no Beastmen stood up to end the Kuna dynasty, this wall of the ancestors would eventually spread and occupy the entire world, devouring all souls and consciousness?"

"Old Milawa's words are very beautiful," Milawa murmured.

"Yes, those words are very nice, but is it the words themselves that Old Milava longs for? No, it's an empire where he alone becomes the god of the world, the eternal ruler, the eternal emperor. Have you ever wondered why people always believe that their own rule will bring the best results and don't want anyone to oppose them?"

"Because of arrogance..."

"Because they don't doubt their own morality and abilities, nor do they understand their own shortcomings and flaws. They simply believe they are qualified to rule everything and refuse anyone to oppose them. Even if they do oppose, they must kneel down and persuade and plead with them, rather than using violence and blood to end them. Old Milava still uses his arrogance to continue his path. The Temple of the Gods and the Thought Plague are not the results he wants, but merely the means to achieve them. He remains where he is. And you, you are the one who can see higher and broader than he does."

"I can't imagine how to see further, teacher..."

"You have to think about it seriously."

Before he could finish his words, Cesar saw Milava clasping his hands. Although he had tried not to touch her, he could still feel the bulge on the right side of his chest. It was a close-fitting shirt, the collar of which was rather disheveled. From his side, he could clearly see the smooth, blood-stained curve of the snow-white flesh.

He bent his fingers slightly, feeling his fingertips brush against his slender neck, brushing against his delicate collarbone, and then grasping it against the tangled hem of his shirt. This blood-stained hillock was delicate and beautiful, as soft as jade, its skin sticky with the blood. Atop the hillock was a delicate bamboo shoot tip, exquisite to the touch.

"My thoughts are in a mess, teacher, please tell me about it."

"Would you rather accept this feeling than have me talk about it?"

"Please speak," Milava said softly, "I think I can be a man, and I can be a woman. If you can guide me through these paths that I no longer know how to walk, then I can be a woman by your side. I can wear the clothes and skirts of a maid, and even call you master... My last hope is that you can keep our secret."

Cesar took a deep breath, feeling that this guy was truly a torturer of the soul. The cracks in the Wall of the Ancients were filled with solemn words of God and painful curses. Only the girl in front of him whispered softly, her delicate body stained with blood, yet still radiating a soft and charming glow.

The bamboo shoots in my hand are soft and delicate, and the curve is more perfect than before. The beads are small, but a hint of bright red can be seen through the fingers.

He held this creature, feeling like he was holding a child. He stroked Milava's hair, his nose touching his ear, inhaling a faint scent tinged with blood and sweat that made his breathing slow. The slightly hardened bead pressed against his chest, sliding across it with the young emperor's gentle breathing, occasionally bending flexibly and then bouncing back upright. The small mound against his chest was also surprisingly sweet, a gentle pressure giving it a delicate, elastic feel.

"Power needs to be restrained." Cesar hugged him and slowed his voice. "Especially the endless expansion of power that old Milava has always wanted, and that you seem to want as well. I can tell you this, Mile, don't worry about whether the miracles that the Temple of the Gods brought from the afterlife to this world are reasonable. You just need to know that it was they who curbed the endless expansion of old Milava's power, just as the Beastmen curbed the spread of the Wall of the Ancients around us. After Milava—whether old Milava or you—became the ruler, there's no doubt that this person wouldn't do something even more terrible for his own fantasies."

"Teacher, please don't say that... Please have mercy on me..." His voice was weak.

Cesar reached out and lifted his face from his shoulder. "Look at me, listen. I'm more afraid of this happening than you are. That's why I refuse any possibility of wearing the crown. I can only observe from a distance and wonder about the flaws and shortcomings of the person wearing the crown, but I don't have the courage to wear it myself and bear the responsibilities. You want to wear the crown, which is not only a way to gain power, but also a test of courage. If you wear it and bear it, you will be braver than me."

"My teacher, forgive me...Please tell me, where does this courage lie?"

Cesar exhaled slowly and asked, "Do you want to be a beast with a terrifying body and soul but a weak spirit, destroying all that might oppose you so that your rule can be forever secure. Or do you want to take up the courage and stand with those who are destined to oppose you, asking them to join you in fighting against that terrifying beast?"

Mirava looked at him. At that moment, Cesar had no idea what was going on in this man's mind. The young emperor's thoughts were too chaotic, too full of contradictions. He could only point to some higher, more profound perspectives, but whether he could accept them, whether he could use them to build his own mental resistance against old Mirava, depended on him.

He lowered his head and muttered to himself: "To oppose my other self, I must first oppose myself who is here..."

"You can take your time to think about it," Cesar said, stroking his hair until a blush appeared on both sides of his cheeks and his lips were slightly pursed.

"By the way," Milawa suddenly raised her head, blinked, and moved closer. "How would you view me now? Would you consider me a man or a woman?"

"Your question is really a bit torturous." Cesar felt his heart tighten. "And you asked it more than once."

"Of course, no matter which one, I can't help but like you." The young emperor looked at him without blinking, and their lips touched gently. After the kiss, the man gently stroked his cheek with slender fingers, stroking his short beard. "But in the first case, I will only call you teacher," he said with a hint of elusive emotion. "In the second case, I will also call you master, and offer you my dignity along with my love. Do you prefer that I give up my dignity and ask you to command me everything you want? Or would you rather I explore the path you offer with courage and dignity, and only give you a little love?"

"I'm going to spank you so hard you can't even sit in that chair right in front of Soler. We can discuss how to get Soler to see it later."

Milava coughed, "It was just a joke, please forgive me, teacher."

Chapter 475: Alanti's Stage Performance

......

The Wall of the Ancients was not only boundless on the surface, but also incredibly deep, with cracks extending over a hundred meters and nowhere near the end. Beside them stood the Kuna, piled like bricks. They seemed to have very little self-awareness, and could only mutter to themselves the sacred text.

Halfway through the journey, Cesar grabbed the rusty armor outside the Snake Walker's body to stop it from moving forward.

"Since Old Milava is on the side of the Thought Plague," he said, "I think we should also consider the situation of facing both Blood and Bones and Old Milava at the same time."

"It's you," the snake-walker hissed, "not us. I'm not your loyalist, Prophet. I only called you Master because you seemed more likely to win."

"I don't have time to worry about you, a snake that has never even left the grave, struggling with your situation and position. I just need you to cooperate with us and do what we should do later." Cesar said.

"You are really good at saying completely different things to different people, Prophet. But, all right, I obey. However, a blood bone is a slave of the thought plague, and an old emperor is a believer of the thought plague. They will definitely join forces. Originally, this place only has beastmen and imperial knights. Do you still want to fight against them both?"

"Milava..." Cesar looked at the emperor beside him, patted his shoulder to show his comfort, and then spoke seriously, "Whether it's the old Milava or the young Milava beside me, the knights of the empire follow them not because of their personal charm, but simply because of their victory."

Seeing that Milava pursed her lips and said nothing, Cesar just shook his head.

"Why do you say that?" the Snake Walker asked. "What have you discovered?"

"Back then, the Fran Empire defeated the Beastmen, steadily advancing towards greater glory. The empire's knights loyally followed Milava, willing to obey his every command, even if it meant exiling the Pantheon to the fringes of the empire. But as the tide of decline began to turn, the knights began to have their own agendas. When Milava was invincible, he arrogantly committed many wrongdoings. Back then, people could still submit to him for the sake of victory and glory, but once victory was gone, these hidden dangers gradually became apparent."

"Arrogant..." Snake Walker glanced at Milava, "I have indeed heard about the old emperor's character."

"As a God-Emperor, or the Chosen Emperor, it's easy to understand why he believes all loyalty and victory are the destiny he promised. It's also easy for the knights who follow him to misjudge and believe that Mirava is indeed enjoying the victory and glory promised by the gods. With this expectation, the knights would do anything for him, even exile to the many temples of the time. However, the difference between gods and humans is actually very great." Cesar said slowly.

Young Milava suddenly spoke up, "In the eyes of most knights, I'm more like a symbol of victory. I lack the part of me that would be recognized whether I win or lose, the part of me that makes me human."

Cesar gently stroked his hair, as if to encourage his courage in facing his flaws. "In other words," he said, "the knights of the Empire won't immediately obey Old Milava just because he and Blood and Bone have joined forces. Besides, by the time we enter the Tomb of the Wise, the myth of Milava had long been shattered. Where these people go will largely depend on the different performances of the two Milavas."

"I think this young emperor is missing a lot. It's impossible for him to fight against the old emperor." Snake Walker pointed out, "Perhaps you can guide him and let him go further in the future. But there is absolutely no way he can fight him now."

Cesar smiled. "We still have the Queen."

"Alanti," the snake walker said with a hint of caution, "This person's soul is the most bizarre among all the hybrid beastmen. She should become a White Nightmare."

"Although all of Arlanti's social behavior is stage performance, the image she portrays is perfect and moving, even more perfect and moving than a true saint. I want to say that the way we perceive others is our imagination, not their true selves. Therefore, it doesn't matter what the real Arlanti is. As long as her perfect stage performances can continue, she will win people's hearts more than the old emperor."

Snake Walker glanced at the sword that sealed Alranti, "Do you think you can convince her to help you?"

Cesar reached out and brushed his hand across the frosty blade. "Of course," he said. "Why shouldn't she continue her impeccable performance? When Mirava was still the God-Emperor, she served as Mirava's prophet, speaking cordially with the Knight Ministers. After the myth of Mirava was shattered, the Emperor himself lost the unconditional loyalty of many knights, but the Queen's charisma remained profound. People trusted her and followed her, no longer because she was the prophet of the Chosen Emperor, but because the image she portrayed had already lived on in everyone's hearts."

"You seem to be extremely fascinated by false things." The Snake Walker looked at him and said in a low voice.

Cesar shrugged. "I'm not fascinated by this false stage image, but by all the people who are fascinated by her, and the inextricable connection between these people and her. Don't you think this is like believers worshiping their own imaginary gods - those tall and majestic male gods and beautiful female gods. They have no idea of ​​the real existence and true appearance of the gods."

"You truly are a blasphemous prophet..." The Snake Walker lowered its voice. Cesar was pleased with its attitude. For a being that already harbored a sense of betrayal and doubt, the more it challenged its thinking and broadened its cognition, the deeper its respect for him grew.

After a while, the Snake Walker's doubts and questions about him will themselves become superficial habits.

"Besides, I'm not actually worried about what will happen to Alranti," Cesar said. "I'm worried about the prophet who created the stage persona of the queen for her. Don't forget, besides the Wise Man of the Kuna, the Corpse Eater Blood and Bones, the ancestor of your Serpent Walkers, and the Chosen Emperor Milava, there's also an immature true dragon. We must be extremely careful with this true dragon. Whichever side it chooses will shake the entire balance of the situation."

"You can go and call the Ancient Prophet and Queen Farran for a consultation right now," said the Snake Walker, "but we don't have much time. Give me some more blood, and I'll dig through the last section of the road. If you can't reach an agreement and come here quickly, I'll question your status as a prophet."

"Then you should be prepared to pay for your doubts," Cesar said. "Of course, that's after we successfully walk out of the grave. If I fail, you can pretend I never said this."

The Snake Walker didn't respond, simply accepting the blood he offered, then walked away clutching a massive spiked chain. These Snake Walkers were already enormous, and they carried something far more formidable than their size. A chain this size was usually only seen at the docks, chaining cargo ships. With the force of a Snake Walker's hurled metal spear, it could easily shatter a wall.

This guy might have the potential to become another Nauzog.

"The ancient prophet wants you to point your sword at the five Kuna people who are tangled together like a rope," Milava suddenly said. "Stab their tumorous hearts. Then, Alranti can absorb their life force and appear briefly."

"Are you ready?" Cesar asked him. "Allandi cut you from old Milava, proving that you are a part she prefers. But she is still an evil creature living beneath a stage persona."

"Consider it facing terror head-on," the young emperor sighed. "In truth, I've never truly experienced what old Milava went through. From the time he left for the Yestren School until the very end, they are all his memories and experiences. To me, they're more like distant, precognitive dreams. Although I feel like I've experienced decades in my dreams, experiencing all his feelings and emotions, it's just a dream after all. I never made any resolutions or choices in my dreams. I was simply dreaming... I need to face it."

Milava took the frozen sword from Cesar, took a breath, and aimed at the twisted tangle of Kuna bricks before him. Cesar hugged him from behind, holding his slender hand, and only then did he feel his breathing steady. Then he gripped the sword tightly and stabbed at the Wall of the Ancients.

In a single breath, a vast expanse of Kuna bricks withered and shattered, transforming into a blanket of icy debris. A naked, ice-elf-like girl rose from the midst. It seemed that the self Allandi had identified with had always been the self Cesar had first seen: the cruel girl in the Yestren School castle who had buried servants in the garden as fertilizer. She spun on tiptoe, her long white hair scattering in the icy mist, cascading down her shoulders and back to her waist, as if she had just emerged from a bath.

Then she looked at Milava. "It's a pity that I was sealed off by my dear sister," she said. "Otherwise, I would be the one holding you like a little bird right now. I've long wanted to turn you into a sweet, timid little girl. If only old Milava hadn't strangled herself so quickly..."

Milava said nothing, merely tucking the hair that had fallen loosely around his ears back, as if trying to avoid looking like the girl Alante had described. Seeing her gently lower her head, her fair wrist resting on her neck, her fingers carefully curled to gather her hair, Cesar felt that Alante's words had made him even more charming and charming. This guy was really...

"Don't be afraid of what she says," Cesar said. He looked back with a look of confusion, his dazed expression making him pause. It's hard to say much about Arlanti, but she was truly accomplished in perceiving the beauty of things, having actually discovered such a part of the soul of the Chosen Emperor.

"I just......"

"Don't respond to her yet, and don't react in any way," Cesar said to Milava. "The premise for her to split a soul is that she knows everything about it. I've been split by her before, and I've also experienced the times when she tested and manipulated me at will. If you want to deal with someone who knows you completely, you still have a long way to go and must become completely different from who you were before."

Arlandi stepped closer until she stood in front of Cesar. "How remarkable, my prophetic servant! Not only did you win her heart so quickly, but you also want her to grow and learn according to your wishes? Do you want to completely transform her into whatever you want? I clearly gave her to you, and you won't even let me have a few words with her?"

Cesar felt that Milava was leaning closer to him, and both arms were holding his left hand. It seemed that it would not be easy for this guy to face the true evil of Alanti.

He roared with the sword in hand, ready to fight her to the death, but he faced her evil nature calmly, asking her to play the role of her stage image and take the initiative to make use of it all.

"I think the other name is better. He is what he thinks he is." Cesar said, stroking his hair, running his fingers over his ears, and kissing his slightly embracing lips. A complicated expression appeared on Milava's face, but she did not struggle. It seemed that after Cesar said this, her thoughts became even more confused.

"You're really good at understanding people's complex thoughts, my prophetic servant." Arlandi crossed her arms and seemed to grit her teeth. "Why don't you just play the queen's role on stage yourself? Why did you ask me to come out? I don't think you can be a woman."

"Everyone has their own talents, mistress," Cesar said simply. "Your stage image is still perfect. If you continue to maintain it, improve it, make it even more perfect, perfect to the point where no one else can replace it, then each of us will truly need you. Compared to old Milava, you are the idol that people truly want to worship, aren't you?"

Chapter 476: I have taught you what I have said

"You're just trying to seduce me, but you haven't given me any promises?" Alanti asked him. "I haven't forgotten that time you plunged your sword into a pile of filth."