Shadow of the Evil God

Cesar shook his head, "Stop arguing about the past. Prepare to cast the spell. Only if the Imperial Knights can break through the Beastmen and reach the end, can we hide in the shadows."

Chapter 478: The Legacy of the True Dragon

......

A doorway stood open. From this point, the door itself was made of black metal, jagged and uneven, merging seamlessly with the rock. Beyond the doorway, there was no building either, but a steep mountain, shaped like a broken scimitar, its tip slanting downwards into the abyss.

Milava carried Jiralor as they entered the Black Gate, and Sevra followed, carrying Cesar. The suspension bridge swayed beneath them, and they could feel the tides of the abyss surging beneath them. In the distance, they could already see the burning city. The capital of the Fran Empire hung like an inverted mountain against the blood-red sky. Ajeh gazed back for a long moment, seemingly catching a glimpse of Cesar in the distance, and then followed.

Inside the door, Sevra felt a familiar chill, a chill reminiscent of both Arranti and the deceitful prophet. But there was more than just chill; there was also a sense of stagnation and silence, a tangible pressure on her consciousness, blocking her thoughts. The closer she got, the stronger the stagnation became, as if she were experiencing the remnants of a past dream, as if she were buried in the depths of the earth, where time and consciousness had ceased to flow.

Milava continued to carry Jiralo, slowly moving forward. Each step was labored, as if they were navigating the seabed, each step requiring them to break through the envelopment of the boundless ocean. Sephora watched Ajeh bite Cesar's neck and suck a few mouthfuls of blood. A strong desire filled her heart, unexpectedly restoring her somewhat.

Would you like some blood? Ajiehe's bloodstained lips smiled, silently saying this.

Honestly, whether she was facing Ajeh alone or Cesar alone, she always had a way to control herself, but the two of them together would only magnify the difficulty of this matter endlessly. The former was full of interest in stirring their longing, while the latter never rejected Ajeh, almost letting her go. For her, it was more than just frustrating.

Sephora only stared at her, then tore some clothes and wrapped them around Cesar's neck to bandage the wound. She was about to move on when the two old men in front started talking again.

"This feeling of all things being still," the Kuna said, "is actually not of my concern. I simply used the essence of its existence to seal it away."

Milava was about to advance when she heard this and stopped. "Allanti and the ancient prophet behind her, are they all the shadows of this true dragon? The true dragon is the source of the water, and they are just downstream of the river?"

"In my opinion, the later Yestren School is a secret cult that worships true dragons. All the chosen ones in the cult are holy maidens of true dragons, offerings to continue the worship of true dragons." The old man stared into the dark corridor. "What you think of as a school of magic is essentially just its shadow."

"So, my queen is just a shadow." Milava's voice was soft, but it carried a strange sense of understanding. "Remove the mask of Allandi. The real dragon hidden behind the mask is the one who truly supports me."

Sevra felt that the old emperor had gone mad. He was no longer able to understand and recognize human emotions. Some concept replaced his concept of being human and transformed his emotions into something that seemed to be false.

Milava felt that Arlandi was a mask. In other words, he wasn't looking forward to her consciousness and personality, but only her wisdom and ability. A person is split into two parts. Consciousness and personality are merely the riverbank, the mud that keeps the river flowing. Wisdom and ability are the water that quenches the thirst.

And Milava's understanding went beyond that. He had once sipped the river's water to quench his thirst, but he considered Alanti's wisdom and power merely the lower reaches of the river. Now, he sought to trace the river's source, the sealed dragon itself. He believed it truly sustained his existence.

But then again, isn't it because Alanti had split his soul that Milava had this strange perception? The human part of Milava wasn't here, it was with Cesar.

"Do you want to know why I dare to call it a legacy?" The old Kuna's voice was decayed and low, yet it contained a terrifying tone. "I have made fatal mistakes, but those mistakes were only on the other side of the sea. In this land, I have never made any mistakes, not even regarding the Madam. I know that the Madam has hidden a faint consciousness outside the tomb, allowing her to reincarnate generation after generation, sneaking into the tomb to steal its existence. Although I have never found her trace, I know she is doing this. Every few hundred years, she takes a piece of the Madam's puzzle."

"so?"

The old Kuna spoke eloquently, as if he'd anticipated this. "The more pieces she retrieved, the more the dragon sealed in the tomb became incomplete. By this time, she possesses almost all of the dragon's consciousness, personality, and wisdom. All that remains is the memories and power she left behind. To her, her consciousness, personality, and wisdom are most important, but to us, this memory and power are our greatest legacy."

"Ownerless wealth..." Milawa muttered to himself.

Sefera recalled a scene Cesar had witnessed in his remnant memory: when the Kuna dynasty was still glorious, Yesterlen's earlier origin was a noblewoman with a dark, hollow face. In other words, her personality and consciousness were incomplete. It was not until the Yesterlen School that the matron regained her full consciousness, personality, and wisdom. Now, all she lacked were her past memories and power.

.

However, in the wise man's plan, this memory and power will no longer be a part of the deceitful prophet. It is an ownerless wealth, waiting for someone with a heart to inherit it.

They continued on in silence. Though the wise men of this place were only remnants, they had reclaimed some of their former glory. "Take this unclaimed treasure and hold it firmly in your hands, Emperor Fran," the old Kuna said. "Use it to perpetuate your will and forge your glory. You can guide the despairing people of the True God's advent, just as a true dragon guides the first creatures. It was surely for this day that I continued the Fran race."

"Is that so..."

"No matter what, we must not let this legacy fall into the hands of the Beastmen. Of course, we must not let it return to where it came from."

"Speak no more, my old friend. I understand," said Milava. "Men and beasts still clash at the entrance, delaying each other. By the time they reach this point, this legacy will no longer be unclaimed."

Sevra watched Milava descend into the darkness, and for a moment, he dared not say what the old emperor's arrogance truly was. Ultimately, the existence of true dragons was incompatible with this world and the passage of time. Those still alive today were either shattered dreams of true dragons or true dragons who had managed to avoid growing up.

Even if it is as complete as Zawulun, it will curl up in its infinite library and avoid the world. Can this old emperor really bear the fate of a real dragon, in other words, bear the fate that is only one step away from turning into mountains, seas and clouds and falling into eternal stillness?

Having said that, before the True Dragon's Heir falls into eternal stasis, he is enough to cause an unprecedented impact on the world.

Ajeh remained intrigued, as if eager to see what Milava could do to the world. As for Sevra, she simply watched, silent. To her, the rulers of the world today were inferior to Milava, and even if he inherited the legacy of a true dragon, she would not care at all.

As for Cesar…if he can stop it in time, he can stop it. If he can’t stop it in time, then it’s too late.

......

"I can feel it." A voice came from Milava's mouth, the voice of the trickster prophet. She no longer tried to occupy Milava's body, which was at least a progress.

Cesar glanced at Milava. "What's missing from you?"

"My memory, and my existence," the voice murmured. "It's getting closer and closer to me. I can feel the joy of being lost and reunited, but I can also feel an intense anxiety. Closer to it? Or farther away from it? They scream simultaneously in my soul."

"When I met Zablong, he was also huddled in an infinitely extended library, secluded from the world," Cesar said. "Zablong once traveled the world, teaching and imparting knowledge, and created many brilliant schools of magic and many terrifying political groups. But in this era, he just huddles in his own library, entrusting his students to do things for him. What do you think it fears?"

"Fear of loss..." said the trickster prophet, "I'm addicted to the passing of time and the changing world. I don't want to fall into eternal stillness, nor do I want to accept my predetermined fate. From within time to outside of time, this means achieving eternity, but also means falling into eternity. It's strange, why would I reject my original destiny..."

"Perhaps there are no such things as immature true dragons," Cesar said. "Even if there were, they wouldn't develop self-awareness with the passage of time like you do. Don't you agree? I believe a true dragon doesn't need self-awareness to exist; it's a form of eternal unconsciousness. Rather than saying your self-awareness is the true dragon's core, it's better to say that you're an unexpected symptom, like a bloated tumor, clinging to the passing of time and the changing world, and hindering the true dragon from fulfilling its eternal destiny."

"Are you questioning my existence?" the deceptive prophet whispered. "No, that's not right. You're questioning self-awareness itself. When you assert that I am a tumor, don't you feel that you are just a tumor too?"

"I'm just used to considering things from different perspectives and standpoints." Cesar shook his head. "Self-awareness is also a perspective and standpoint. I realized this because I've been thinking about the issues of Grandmasters Fils and Ferriers for a long, long time."

"If you were born in the Kuna Dynasty, something terrible would surely happen to you..." The Trickster Prophet said, shaking his head and looking towards the Burning Capital hanging upside down in the sky. "Allanti's spell is almost complete. I saw the ancestors of Bloodbone and Snake Walker. They left behind all the people and beasts and are running forward, looking very anxious."

"Someone is ahead of them," said Cesar.

"Old Milawa took a shortcut." Milawa suddenly gritted his teeth, "We can't just stand there and watch."

Chapter 479: Enchanting and Beautiful

Arlante's spell was finally complete. Although Gouzi said that the beastmen and the old emperor had conflicting interests and there was no need to worry about them joining forces against the enemy, Cesar still breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the knights rushing past like a puff of smoke, rushing towards the herded beasts and the trampled ancient land.

Banners, tattered, rotten, and brand new, unfurled against the blood-red flames of the Fran capital, fluttering across the shattered land teeming with beasts, like a strange, chaotic sea. The sky was already filled with the phantom of the capital, devoid of a single cloud. Both heaven and earth were ablaze, raging with battle, seemingly everywhere enveloped by roars and howls. The blood-red glow of war, like sunlight, illuminated everything here.

As far as Alranti could see, more knights appeared like smoke, not only surrounding the beasts born from the remnant memories but also following the trails of Bloodbone and Snake Walker and charging towards the sealed land. "Now someone's clearing the way," she breathed. "Next, carry your tired mistress over. Do you understand?"

Cesar didn't mind. Besides, even in her queenly form, she wasn't even up to his chest. It wouldn't be difficult to carry her on his back, even tuck her under his arm. However, it was clear she wanted more than just to be carried on his back.

Before, Ajeh had ridden on him, biting his neck and sucking his blood. Now, the Queen would use his blood as a source of magic. Her fingers, piercing with cold, stabbed at his neck like knife points, and Cesar felt his blood drain away every time a group of knights appeared like smoke, charging the beastmen blocking their path.

They were approaching the scimitar-like mountain. The slopes of the shattered world grew increasingly steep, with some suspension bridges spanning height differences of over ten meters. Blood and Bones constantly summoned ancient beastmen from their remnants to block the path, while Fran knights were constantly summoned by Alranti to charge. Due to the careless use of magic, many mutilated knights were stuck on the ground along the way, half of their heads growing out of stone, two legs stuck diagonally in the mud, and one side of their bodies stuck in a dead tree trunk.

That is to say, they are in the Tomb of the Wise. In reality, these things are enough to label Alanti as a cursed demon.

They approached Bloodbone, using the knights' cover. The fierce battle behind them continued, and another fierce battle in front of them began. The Beastmen and Imperial Knights, like handfuls of seeds sown by a farmer, were multiplying. The suspension bridge swayed, the ground trembled, and the myriad colors merged into a black mass against the blood-red of the capital. It seemed as if this ancient, shattered world had never before experienced or borne so many lives.

As Bloodbone and the Snake Walker Progenitor rushed through the Black Gate, the farmers on the other side vanished, and the beastmen emerging from the remnant of memory suddenly dwindled, clinging only to the entrance ahead. Alanti gripped Cesar's shoulder, drawing more blood. More knights, like smoke, burst from the void and materialized, vowing to end the suffering within the grave and vent their ancient hatred.

The sound of swords clashing, flesh tearing, and the roars of beasts and humans filled the air. Aerlante, riding on Cesar's back, called out to the knights, her solemn voice completely unrecognizable as that of the cruel young woman. Soon, all the knights joined their queen in shouting, drowning out even the screams of the dying.

The Frankish knights used their heavy swords to split open flesh and blood, used their hammers to swing away solid shields, used their spears to pierce the tall beasts and lift them into the sky, beheaded the bull-like heads, and gradually overwhelmed the beastmen guarding the entrance. Then, they rushed in even more violently.

The moment Cesar stepped through the gate, escorted by the knights, he felt a chill stagnate. But his frenzied emotions, tangible as a wave, soon broke through with a deafening roar. Emotions, longings, these intangible things, in the hands of a mage, often give rise to unimaginable evil and terror. As a chosen one of the Yesterlen School, Allandi excelled in this area.

They seemed to be climbing within the mountain, soon following the upward path to the upper reaches. Here, they could see numerous black chains, recently broken. It seemed as if countless chains stretched across the entire mountain, enclosing the immature dragon within. Those who arrived first cut through the chains enclosing the dragon as they went.

From here, he could see the burning capital sinking lower and lower, poised to plummet to the ground, unleashing a monstrous destruction. The air emanated an increasingly intense burning sensation, and thick smoke, already emanating from the lingering memory of the capital, wafted into his nose, choking him to the bone. It seemed the boundary between the tomb's lingering memories and reality would soon completely disappear, and when that happened, the entire sealed land would be annihilated.

"Don't worry about what's going on over there," said Alanti. Amidst the war cries and roars, only the queen was at her ease, contentedly enjoying power and politics. "What needs to be destroyed will be destroyed. Finish what needs to be done first, and figure out how to escape afterward."

Cesar hadn't really considered how they were going to escape, but since they were already here, he could figure out the rest later. That was just his way. As for Allandi, while his human side was a demon, the other side was incredibly skillful. He summoned these knights like a child, which was quite remarkable.

They continued to climb, breaking through the ancient beastmen left behind by the blood and bones. More and more chains were broken along the way, and the shaking of the world became more and more terrifying. Whether it was this broken ancient world, or

This black mountain that seals the real dragon must have been visited by only a handful of people in the past, but now it is submerged by a vast ocean of people and beasts. This may not be a sign of historical changes.

If there were people who believed in Sagaros here, they would definitely get greater blessings from God due to this change.

Halfway through their journey, a sudden, frantic tremor shook the entire world, like thunder rumbling from the depths of the earth, bringing with it a terrifying tremor strong enough to shatter the mountains. The sound of more chains snapping echoed through the mountains, lingering for a long time along with the sound of the earth shaking.

"It will take some time from the time the seal is broken until we can take possession of the legacy," the Trickster Prophet said from Milava's throat, "because it's not about acceptance, it's about taking possession, and that process takes time. If Bloodbone, Milava, and the First Ancestor of the Snake Walker are unwilling to let go, then they will have something to discuss—who will become the true dragon."

"Or rather, some did fight," Cesar said. "Violence is always an option. It's the most effective and quickest."

"From a human to a beast, becoming a true dragon..." The snake walker spit out his snake tongue subconsciously, "I can't imagine..."

"You don't have to pretend you don't desire it," Cesar said to it. "Your quest for hidden knowledge is only a step away from this. Seeing the existence beyond time right before your eyes, still ownerless, it would be strange not to want to occupy it and observe the world from its perspective."

"Your blood is enough to quench my thirst," the Snake Walker denied. "Besides, even in the most temporally chaotic areas of the wasteland, one can reach the sleeping dragons. I don't need to take such a great risk to satisfy such a quest."

"You don't have to say everything you've convinced yourself of."

"I'm not accustomed to the ways of the outside world, Master Prophet," Snake Walker admitted. "However, for Bloodbone and Milava, power is an end in itself, but for me, it is only a means."

"You have to wait until you fully grasp and understand power before you can say that." Cesar followed the knights up the ladder step by step. "People always say this about themselves before they gain power."

"You are denying me again." The Snake Walker hissed and spit out his snake tongue. This is how this guy reacts when he has emotional ups and downs.

Cesar glanced at it. "I will support you in your pursuit of power and express all my views. If you are certain that you will not be captured by power, then we can make a bet on which path you will take in the future."

"I'll wait until I'm out alive before I say that, Prophet." It picked up a torch, which illuminated the walls. The ground was covered with broken pieces, and the walls were covered with the texture of chains cut by sharp blades. "It's a shame to see this place collapse. In my opinion, if it can seal a real dragon, it can also seal everything in the world. Imagine sealing those horrors in it, observing and studying them bit by bit."

The snake walker floated upwards, a disembodied ghost, effortlessly and even in the mood for casual conversation. Meanwhile, the others were exhausted. The mountain path was incredibly long, and many of the knights who had followed were already panting by this point, moving upwards without a word. Milava, on the other hand, looked like a sleepwalker, ascending the rugged steps step by step, breathing heavily but forcing herself to remain silent.

"This staircase is really long..." Cesar picked up the young emperor and said, "You should take a break first. If you lose consciousness later, it will be troublesome for the old emperor to take advantage of the opportunity to get rid of you."

Milava panted softly and rested her head on his right shoulder. At the same time, she did not forget to slap Alanti's hand away and moved to the other side, as if they were fighting for a place on the bed.

"You're becoming more and more dependent on others." Alanti gripped his other shoulder. "Where has the determination and tenacity I left in you gone? Sooner or later, you'll curl up in your mother's belly like a baby."

"I don't mind relying on people I can rely on when necessary." Milawa panted, "My past mistakes were simply relying on people I shouldn't have relied on, mistaking a nightmare disguised as a real person. Something like you..."

Cesar held Milava's head and felt him kiss the wound on his shoulder, licking it tenderly, like a small animal. Seeing that the young emperor no longer expressed his emotions, their queen also lost interest. She raised her upper body, crossed her arms, pressed her soft chest against his head and looked ahead.

The climbing path soon reached the highest point. They followed the swarm of knights through a narrow gate. Far below, a huge spherical metal was floating in the void. The outer shell of the metal ball was dark and opaque, but he could see through the shell a frost-blue dragon curled up inside it, like a baby in the womb.

"How enchanting and beautiful..." the Snake Walker murmured to himself, "If only I could take a bite, eat a piece of flesh, drink a drop of blood, even just a little bit..."

This guy's hobby is also quite strange.

Chapter 480: Fighting for the True Dragon's Legacy

Of course, Cesar also saw old Milava, Sevra and her companions, and himself on her back. The old emperor, clad in rusted armor, stood directly beneath the sealed dragon. Jiralo, on his back, was nearing death, his head drooping and his body withered. It seemed his true mission was to escort Milava to the place of her imprisonment.

The old emperor raised his arm, and Giralo held his wrist, using his last remaining strength to call upon the dragon of the dome. Brilliant runes shone on his withered arm. His presence was fading, first hunched and decaying, then completely undetectable. Only a shadow could be seen enveloping Milava, guiding the seal of the dome.

Multiple gleaming metal spears tore through the air, like blazing sunlight falling from the sky, threatening to pierce Milava's body. Most of them brushed aside the invisible barrier, piercing deep into the rock, carving cracks and raising clouds of dust. But one spear pierced the old emperor's chest, pinning him to the ground.

The First Serpent Walker and his descendants floated in the darkness of the dome, surrounding the True Dragon, vowing to cut off the possibility of humans seizing their heritage.

Though rumored to be the savage and ferocious leader of the corpse eaters, Bloodbone hovered cross-legged in the air, his posture serene and his expression calm, surveying Mirava below like a god. His dozen or so blood-red eyes gleamed with a penetrating light—unlike the frenzied bloodshot eyes of the corpse eaters, they were instead like silver mirrors reflecting everything.

Have you accepted the plague of thought?

Cesar certainly still remembered the feeling of that moment. He clearly remembered the desire to erase all traces of Cesar from his soul in order to write the true knowledge of the plague of thought. In that moment, his cognition was elevated from a fleeting individual consciousness to an endless eternity. From this heightened perspective, no one's value was high enough to last forever, but the plague of thought could.

Of course, the plague of thought is an externalized view. When he is in that moment and touches the filth of the plague of thought, it is no longer the plague of thought, but eternal true knowledge.

The so-called immutable eternity, the indestructible truth, means erasing all that decays and dies in his soul with the passage of time, and replacing it with eternal knowledge. He transforms from a mortal man into an immortal book, containing eternal knowledge. This knowledge is so precious that to contain his own mortal personality would be to sully and deface it. Conversely, to give himself away would be to accept the greatest honor.

Cesar would offer his soul to write it, just as the wizard's slave offered his skin to write the evil spell. His soul needed to be thoroughly cleansed, removing every trace of Cesar, and the slave's skin also needed to be thoroughly cleansed to prevent dirt from ruining the spell the wizard wanted to write.

This kind of dangerous thinking is especially vulnerable to those who are good at thinking. Among them, those who harbor hopes and imaginations for eternal truth are particularly vulnerable. It is a great threat to Cesar and the snake-walker beside him, but it is meaningless to people like Sevra, and it is also meaningless to a savage beast like Blood and Bone.

Thus, things reached another level—the plague of thought would transfer the brutal slaughter of the flesh to the realm of thought. Wisdom became the sword and shield, thought the sharp blade. Those with the greatest wisdom wielded their blades and fought their way through the arena of thought, defeating all enemies. The victor would receive the highest honor—using their own souls to write the true knowledge of the plague of thought.

The legendary primitive and savage Blood and Bone Chieftain is actually long gone. His brain is the arena of thought plague, and his body is the victor's chair. Those he devours are fighters in the arena, wielding the sharp blades of their own thoughts to battle each other. The victor sits on the chair of blood and bones, spreading the curse of thought plague in his name.

The blood and bones represent that the ideological plague has come here, so what about the old emperor?

Cesar looked down at Milava and found that this guy had actually broken the metal spear and pulled out the half of the dazzling sunlight that seemed to be real from the bloody hole in his body. He almost looked like a terrifying monster.

He seemed to have accepted a small portion of the true dragon's legacy, his body growing taller, now twice as tall as the Milava Cesar had seen in his lingering memories. His muscular upper body had stretched out, tearing through the rusted armor, leaving only a wide, floor-length robe tied around his waist. His tangled muscles resembled a sturdy tree trunk, and the huge bloody hole in his abdomen was covered with new blood vessels, stitching the damage to his body like needle and thread.

But old Milava still roared furiously, and the growth rate of his body suddenly slowed down.

"Bloodbone isn't fighting for the True Dragon's legacy." Alanti floated down from his back. "It's helping the ancestor of the Snake Walkers—the First Born, who was destined to die."

Cesar noticed that the snake walker beside him was spitting out its tongue and making a hissing sound, and he immediately realized that this guy had thought the same thing as them.

"Ancestor..." it said, "My respected mother had intercourse with all the ancestors born in the tomb at that time. She not only accepted their seeds, but also devoured all their flesh, blood and souls. After completing all this, she firmly believed that the tribe she gave birth to would surpass everything. It is just a snake, but we have an intangible body, wield terrifying power, and can soar freely in the void. Now it seems that it still

There is no satisfaction.”

Considering that everything the Firstborn did was for the ultimate sacrifice, dedicating everything to the tribe it would reproduce, then the fact that Bloodbone allowed it to accept the legacy of the True Dragon meant that the Snakewalk tribe would become a mythical tribe after its death, a tribe that would far surpass all the beastmen tribes of the past.

On the other hand, the legacy of the true dragon is fragmented throughout the entire Beastmen community, so naturally it cannot grow, let alone fall into eternal stasis. This is similar to the royal bloodline of the Kasar Empire. However, the Kasar Empire is just a dream of the true dragon, and it needs to awaken to master power, but the Serpent Walkers do not need this.

I have to say that compared to old Milawa, the person sitting on the Blood and Bone Chair is more intelligent.

Milava grasped the spear from the ground and, ignoring the blazing light, hurled it with all her might. It traced a deadly trajectory, piercing the dome from the mountain's base. The path was straighter than a ruler could trace, and taller than the entire Black Mountain. First, with a powerful gust of air, it tore through more than a dozen snake-walkers, piercing the dome, piercing the mountain's peak, and hurling it into the burning capital. Then, a deafening roar echoed.

The Snake Walker Ancestor roared loudly, causing the Snake Walkers to scatter in all directions. The giant dragon condensed with ice seemed to be breaking apart, collapsing and disintegrating in the directions of the Snake Walker Ancestor and Milava.

Not only Milava, but the Primordial Snake Walker also coiled within the dome, growing ever larger. Initially a giant serpent in the void, it now had grown sharp claws, horns, and wings. Jade-green scales enveloped its ethereal, serpentine form, reflecting the dome torn apart by Milava and refracting a fiery, blood-red light.

The beastmen who had fallen from their memories swarmed towards Milava like ants, trying to disrupt his fight for the true dragon's legacy. The knights of the Fran Empire, who had just broken through the beasts' encirclement and arrived here, were stunned by the scene.

"Regain glory for your emperor!" the old emperor shouted, his voice echoing like thunder in this vast space.

"Who should I help..." Allandi couldn't help but fall into confusion.

Cesar glanced at Arrandi. He seemed to lack a sense of agency, always looking for something to cling to, acting in the name of someone else. "This legacy is destined to be fragmented," he said. "Now we shouldn't consider which side to support, but whether we can get a share ourselves. No, two."

"Two copies?" Alanti blinked. "Besides our silent ancient prophet, is there anyone else who wants one? I think this thing is very dangerous. It's better to keep it in a glass bottle for observation. If you really want to give it to me, forget it. Is this what you want?"