Shadow of the Evil God

Chapter 496: Simple and Pure Things

"Experiencing death too much can make people indifferent," Cesar said. "Maybe you can learn to give me more pain."

"I have no interest in torture." Sevra looked a little weak. "My pursuit is simple: to take your life bit by bit. Beyond that, I have no other desires. I don't want to become anything other than human either."

"Can't I? If I merge into the deformed flesh and blood, it will become very troublesome for you to deal with me. In other words, it will be very novel."

"Without Cesar as a human being, these pursuits would be meaningless," she whispered.

Their conversation was undoubtedly absurd and eerie. Listening to these whispers, Cesar felt as if the entire fork in the road had fallen into silence. A dark stream weaved through the canal, sighing like the breaths of a dying old man on his sickbed. The dry wood chopped from the tomb burned again, reflecting Sevra's face, like a pale mask hanging alone in the darkness.

Cesar found that he could recognize all the firewood, and every texture was eerily familiar to him. "How many times have you cut down the ancient tree in this tomb?" he asked.

"Thousands of times," Sephora said. "I'm so used to it that I always chop down the same tree, chop off the same branch, and even the trajectory of my knife is the same."

The two of them leaned against the wall carved with ancient runes and fell into silence again. The corridor on the left was collapsed and shattered, completely blocked by the pile of stones. The corridor on the right was twisted, twisting and tangling like intestines flowing out of a cut belly, extending in thirty-seven crooked directions, but he had explored every direction.

Initially, Cesar had been deeply curious about the winding ruins of the tomb, but now he knew every path, even every stone. He didn't know how many more indistinguishable paths he would have to explore, how many more indistinguishable things he would have to do. The thought of this made his earlier imagination seem absurd. As he pondered this, Sevra cut a piece of meat, held it over the fire with a knife, and roasted it before feeding it to him.

Cesar chewed a piece of meat, and because the taste was so familiar, he felt it was like chewing candles. "If someone saw this, would they think we were actually very close now?" he asked.

“If people don’t understand what’s going to happen, they might think that,” Sefra said.

"Maybe that's what people should think," Cesar said.

"No, I just want you to be alive and well, so you don't look so weak, so that I don't look like I'm cutting up a corpse later."

"Fat them up before slaughtering them?" Cesar frowned. "Isn't that like slaughtering livestock?"

“I hate that metaphor,” Sevra said.

"I know," Cesar said. "That's why I say this. We've had more than one chance to fall into even greater madness and do something even more terrible, but you'd rather break my legs and drag me along than let me jump into the pile of blood and flesh. You, too, have experienced so many forks in the road, and yet you're doing nothing more. You're still chopping off the same branch from the same tree, still using the most efficient method to clear everything in the fork, and then you bring me here to die."

Sephora glanced at him. "It sounds like you're also planning to become the agent of the ideological plague."

"I'm not sure," he said, "but it sounds like it would be similar to Flesh Aberration."

"Was it me who helped you at that time?" Her eyes were blank.

"So you remember now," Cesar said. "At that time, I was about to become the agent of the Thought Plague, perhaps even surpassing the existence of the wise and becoming the so-called ruler in the Blood and Bone Language. However, you later pulled me back, and I couldn't accept it."

"Is it important to remember?" Sevra asked him.

"Yes, it is important," Cesar nodded. "But depending on your situation, it may not be particularly important."

"What's happening?"

The campfire crackled, casting their shadows against the curved wall. The dim sound of running water seemed to grow louder, mingling with the rustling of the burning fire, becoming ethereal and uncertain. "Are you the Sevra of a thousand years ago who rejected her future, or are you the Sevra of a thousand years from now who accepted her past?" he said. "That's the two possible scenarios."

"Maybe both. I want to forget the past, but I don't want to accept the future either," she said.

"In the past, there was Ferriers, and in the future, there will be a Frank girl who has followed you for a long time. I can't remember your relationship with Ferriers, but that girl must need you and cannot live without you."

"You rescued this child and then abandoned him, and now you insist that I keep him with you?"

"You said you wanted her to punch me hard."

"You're giving me a headache." Sevra stared at the blade in his hand.

"You see, you are also trapped by the relationships between people," said Cesar.

"But," she said, "as I watched your life drain away, I felt like I wasn't trapped by anything. My heartbeat became more vigorous, my breath seemed warmer, and the touch of your blood on my fingers felt like I was making up for what I was missing. Death...it's something you can't do once you step out of the grave, whether in the past or in the future..."

“We don’t necessarily have to make it to the final step, which is death.”

Cesar said, "Actually, I never made it to the final step. Even when I was entangled with the frantic Ajeh, I only slightly crossed the line."

"What's your final move?"

"Imagine my flesh gradually tearing apart, drowning a person like a tidal wave. Not just her sexual features, but every inch of her skin is tightly bound, her entire body tightly wrapped, her insides invaded and occupied. I feel everything about her with a flesh-and-blood desire never before experienced by any living being, and gaze into her soul with infinite affection. It won't be long before her flesh and blood sinks deeply into it, and her soul melts in infinite longing." Having said this, Cesar pondered for a moment. "In my opinion, this is the step before the final step. Judging by its nature, it means impending death."

"What about death?" Sevra asked her.

"I loved this person with infinite affection and longing. I wanted to merge her into my body and make her a part of me forever. I swallowed her in a gentle yet terrifying way. She didn't feel any pain, and she didn't die, but she gradually became lost. Her flesh and blood merged into mine, and her thoughts and consciousness merged into my soul. From then on, there would be no more distinctions or obstacles between us. That's right, after this, she disappeared and ceased to exist, leaving behind only the feeling of wandering in endless flesh and blood desire."

"Should I cut you in half and put you back together again?"

"You've saved me so many times, even forcing me not to commit suicide. You even pulled me back from the edge of a cliff, all for the sake of cutting me open. So, for the sake of future success, there's nothing wrong with letting me go halfway through. What do you think?"

"I don't know..." Sevra muttered.

"If you don't reach the final step, you'll feel a little empty," Cesar said. "But I think leaving room for hope is how we can always live in hope. When the Ouroboros ate itself, didn't it eat itself whole? Perhaps we can live like the Ouroboros."

"You talk too much nonsense."

As Sevra spoke, she thrust the blade deeper into his chest, pushing deeper and deeper until she leaned her entire upper body weight against him, her head resting on his jaw. Cesar held her close, feeling her press her ear to his chest, listening to his fading heartbeat, no matter how many times she repeated it. Her breath was actually warm, a warmth that brushed against his chest, a feather-like brush against the wound, often making the experience painless.

"Come to think of it, I've never kissed you before," said Cesar.

"Why? I've never heard you mention it."

"I met the captain of the mercenaries at a fork in the road and had some different ideas."

"How interesting! No wonder this guy was insignificant a thousand years ago, yet a thousand years later he can force me to retreat on the city wall."

"Can I kiss?"

"Don't even think about it."

"The blood has been spilled."

Sevra raised her ghostly pale face, even more serene now stained with blood. She lifted her slender fingers to touch him, gently brushing the blood from the corner of his mouth. Then, she placed a daub on her lips and pursed them. The blood immediately spread, staining her entire thin lips. "Salty and bitter, like tears," she whispered.

He lowered his head, approaching her thin, bright red lips, and looked at her frail cheeks, which had never eaten in the ruins of a grave. "If you want me to react differently, you should kiss me too."

“The idea of ​​death being endless is a simple and pure thing,” she said.

"My love is also a simple and pure thing," Cesar said.

Sevra pulled the blade from his chest and stared at him for a long moment, her lips moving ever closer but not continuing, simply sensing his increasingly weak breaths. Cesar felt she wouldn't move, that she could watch them rot here, so he grasped the blade and, with a gentle pull, plucked it from her already weakened hand. He hugged her waist, the blade against her back, and with a gentle push, it peeked through her chest, then pressed against his.

Cesar opened his arms and saw her pressing against him, the blade thrust into his chest, her heart against his, a beating so faint that he could hardly feel it. And she kissed him, lips against lips, blood soaked in blood, so faint that he could hardly feel her breathing.

"Will you die first, or will I?" she sighed.

"We still have a lot of forks to compare," Cesar said.

"You have so much life in you," Sevra said with a sigh, lowering her head. "I feel like I'll die first."

"Does that make you sad? I mean, not being able to watch my life drain away?"

"What do you say?"

"How about you just get used to what happens after you step out of the grave?"

"Not very good," she sighed. "I can't help it. Death is the only answer. Besides, it's cold."

"We still have many more times..." Cesar said as he hugged her tightly, lowered his head again, and kissed her. Perhaps because she was too weak, she no longer struggled, and let him kiss her soft lips, breathing her increasingly weak breath, feeling her increasingly weak heartbeat. In the warmth of the campfire, he felt that they were both cold, and the thin lips between his lips were like lilies in the rain.

The petals were clearly stained with blood, and one could still see the pale and faded color beneath the blood.

Sevra was still searching for signs of his death. Her slender fingers had already touched his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. Her brow furrowed slightly, as if wondering, "How can it still beat so strongly?" As she gradually closed her eyes, as if drifting off to sleep, Cesar felt the urge to say that he did sense a certain beauty in death, but he wondered if she would sense any hint of love in their kiss.

He hugged the person in his arms tightly, closed his eyes, and sat against the wall, wanting to wait quietly for death, but he felt someone walking over and pressing his chest. "Be quiet, master," the voice said, "don't move."

Cesar forced his eyes open and saw a face, cracked like porcelain, appear before him. His vision blurred, the focus of his pupils shifting. Many things were unclear, but this shattered face could only be the Faceless One. Gouzi, she had disappeared for so long, and finally, like a ghost that would forever linger in his shadow, she reappeared. It was truly eerie. Something spread along the blade, plugging the ruptured blood vessels.

"I have to go to the next fork in the road," Cesar said vaguely. "I have to face death."

"This is the last one."

"this......."

"Are you sorry, Master?"

"I thought that was it..."

"Is it over? Not at all, Master. Only the fork in time and countless of you have vanished. You have simply leveled a maze of twists and turns. It has simply become an empty room. The room is still here, and there is no way out."

He swallowed a mouthful of blood, "Sevra..."

"Her vital signs are weak, but she can be saved."

"I thought we'd find different kinds of satisfaction after a few hundred more forks in the road." Cesar shrugged and coughed up blood. "So, this is the end? But what else can we do? The forks in time at least offer me endless death and rebirth, but this one... eternal darkness and silence? How can I possibly endure this?" He muttered to himself, shaking his head in a daze. "Why do you know this is the end?"

"At every fork in the road, I'm watching you from the rubble, Master. At every fork in the road, I'm exchanging memories with your experiences. If one of me falls into eternal darkness, it means you've left, and that fork in the road has come to an end. This is the last one, Master. If I die again, there will be no return. Of course, I will also meet my final end with your death."

"wait......."

Gouzi nodded slightly, "There is no other way except waiting."

Cesar pursed his lips and asked, "How many years do I have to wait?"

"It is impossible to estimate, Master," she said, "but I can give you a little sleep, and it will be a very long sleep. If someone comes to rescue you——"

"What about you?"

"I can always watch from the side." The dog blinked. "Don't worry, Master. The passing of time means nothing to me. It's just an accumulation of monotonous memories."

There was a brief silence. "I will always owe you more."

"No?" She tilted her face, looking confused. "Sleep, Master, with your other self beside you. If you wake up, then everything will be fine. If not, I will watch you sleep here peacefully."

Chapter 497 You Rotten Husband

......

When he opened his eyes again, Cesar felt like he had had a big dream. It seemed that he had never left the Gural Fortress, nor had he ever been to a tomb where time was intertwined.

He felt warm and peaceful, the world shrouded in mist. The morning light filtered through the curtains, dim and soft, like the light beneath a lake. Even the shadow cast by his side was hazy and transparent, like dissolving smoke.

Cesar shifted on the large bed in his bedroom, hugged the lithe girl tighter, and listened to her unconscious murmurs. Phils was still petite and adorable, unchanged.

Before he knew it, the light grew stronger, as if someone had drawn the curtains. Cesar frowned at the light and raised his hand to shield his eyes, trying to discern who had opened the curtains. He finally determined it was Diana. She stood in the hazy morning light, gazing down at him, her eyes still cold and transparent, like azure ice. Her long, light green curls cascaded down, looking even more like waterweed in the hazy, lake-like light.

He reached out and took her hand, and saw her eyebrows raise slightly, the corners of her mouth half-smiled. The subtle expression appeared in the dreamy morning light, and it seemed to illuminate the entire bedroom. They had their customary morning kiss and the customary light touch of their noses. His eyes fell quietly into hers, and he asked her why she woke up so early, and whether he wanted to kiss the girl in his arms and wake her up too.

"I wouldn't mind getting to know this other part of you," Diana said. "But, Cesar, I personally think that this other part of you doesn't want to know anyone."

"This morning light and the bedroom..."

"We're still in the grave, and this is just a way to wake you up," she said. "From dream to illusion, and then to reality. Although only Phils likes to sleep curled up in your arms, she's not here."

How much time had passed? Cesar didn't know; asking seemed pointless. He turned his head and saw Gouzi in the shadows beside him. He was shaking his head, shaking the dust off his body and hair, as if he had been sitting in a tomb for thousands of years. He didn't know how many years had passed, but she still looked as lively and carefree as ever, although this kind of liveliness and carefreeness was only what he hoped for.

The chill of the tomb wind brushed against his cheeks, and Cesar huddled up, tempted to return to the misty warmth of his dreams. He should have gotten up, but a sense of emptiness had already filled his heart. Before he was Cesar, and before Sevra was Sevra, he'd often curled up in a ball at dawn, lost in meaningless fantasies. He didn't want to face the empty, boring world, and sometimes he'd curl up until the dead of night, not moving at all.

Now it seemed that it was Sevra who had taken these things from him, the reason he kept chasing the path ahead. Because they had slept in each other's arms for so long, their consciousnesses were like two adjacent pieces of paint, infecting each other, and the colors of their dreams had intertwined, only then did he remember the past she had taken away.

Sitting on the bed wrapped in a blanket, spending a meaningless day like an old man in his twilight years sipping hot water, this was what he did most often. But now, these vague memories and feelings, as ethereal as smoke, belonged to her. Cesar wanted to open his fingers, but found that his hands had grown together with the skin on her lower back.

"I'll separate the two of you first," Diana sighed. "Since this is related to our ancestral bloodline, I'll let it go. You must tell me next time."

After a long moment, Sevra finally awoke. At first, she merely blinked, dazed and groggy, no better than when he'd first woken. Gouzi sat with his knees together on their left, while Ajeh leaned against the wall on their right. Diana half-knelt behind Sevra, brushing aside her tattered, weathered clothes and lifting Cesar's hand—a bloody mess; there was no skin where their bodies had touched.

Sevra squinted back, and Diana was still in the phantom dawn, almost indistinguishable. "I've seen you," she said.

"I've seen you before, dear," Diana said gently. "You two exchanged bodies once in the wilderness. At that time, you weren't quite conscious."

"You are supposed to be...his wife?" Sevra asked in confusion.

"Isn't it unimaginable?" Diana continued to peel back the glue that held their bodies together. "This guy's pursuing me too closely. You know, people like us don't need separation or lingering sentimentality. As long as we feel that both parties are suitable, after some careful consideration, we will decide on family and marriage matters."

"I can't imagine it," Sevra said, looking at her. It seemed that Diana's ideas were so far removed from her own that many of her questions and thoughts had dissipated, becoming meaningless.

While Sevra was too far removed from the secular world, Diana was too close. She had been frequenting the Duke's residence and Itris's Origin Society since she was a child. She was not only adept at but also enthusiastic about the Game of Thrones, and her social relationships were also effortless. She handled everything too perfectly, and rarely used her true heart.

If a person, like Diana, presents his or her sociality as too perfect, he or she will look like a carefully carved white porcelain mannequin. Others can neither imagine nor see through her white porcelain shell, and may even think that there is nothing inside.

Although this sentence is short, what she means is almost

Cesar was keen on knocking open the white porcelain mannequin and looking through the holes to see what was hidden inside, while Sevra would want to walk away as soon as he took one look at her. This was also the difference between the two of them.

"What a stark comparison," Diana said, her eyes sidelong at Cesar as if realizing something. "When this guy pursues someone, his enthusiasm is so intense that even a single step back diminishes it." She turned her gaze to Sevra, "It seems like the other side of his personality is mostly in you."

"Doesn't the rottenness of your husband's relationship make you uncomfortable?" Sevra asked her.

"There's a kind of rot called noble rot," Diana glanced at Cesar again. "Grapes infected with this rot don't smell very good, and they're even harder to squeeze. But once they're made into wine, they produce a pleasant flavor. Of course, not everyone with the rotten smell on them can be made into wine, it just so happens that this guy can."

She glanced back, "You Westerners..."

"I have to point out that it's the kingdoms east of the steppes, or rather, the nobles of the eastern steppes." Diana smiled. "Of course, considering you might be talking about something from another land, I can also treat this as a fairy tale between you two. So what are you saying? Are we Western nobles corrupt and decadent? I think it should be the West, because the Sasule chiefs, with as many wives as they have sheep, are certainly not qualified to judge us."

Sevra fell silent, turned back, and lay on him like a cat caught by the tail. Diana was still helping her recover, so she couldn't get angry or scratch. Cesar could only smile at Diana and helplessly try to comfort the creature in his arms. She glared at him, and he had to spread his hands.

With so many factors combined, this guy showed a side he had never seen before, which was quite strange. Of course, it could also be that Diana's words were too venomous, and she didn't leave any traces.

"Speaking of which," Cesar said, "there's something you both need to know." Sevra turned her face away, with her back to the light, her expression completely shrouded in shadow. Diana didn't care, but just dealt with the part of their bodies that was stuck together like fungi.