Shadow of the Evil God

Cesar didn't know what the other person was, a beastman or a cursed Sasule, but since she described biting living things as feeling lust, from her point of view, mutual abuse was not much different from him finding someone to have sex with.

"I don't intend to change my views for the sake of a path." Cesar took a breath. "Besides, I think the nerves are tangled together in the vulnerable parts of my body to remind me that there are certain things I shouldn't do."

The opponent's bones and claws slowly ground together, making a crunching sound deep in the woods. "Are you serious? Someone who wasn't born chosen and entered the Dao would actually be like this?"

"I wasn't born in the Crimson Realm," Cesar said.

His voice grew heavier. "The fact that you can project your soul here means you've been reborn. Do you understand what I mean? You're no longer a person, and your parents are no longer your parents. You're the thing that reborn you. The transformation has already taken place, and you're still hesitant?"

Cesar had considered this question himself. Even so, he asked, "Does change seem natural to you?"

"That's the way the world is made, man. At some point, one thing becomes another, one person becomes another, and it's this that happens over time that makes you and the world what it is today. I've seen and even been involved in more than one person's transformation—a completely different person before and after a certain point in time.

Two people, at this point in time, merge together to form a whole, presenting a transformation. This is what is most interesting.”

"It sounds like you've instigated others too," Cesar said sarcastically, nonchalantly.

"Why don't you try to persuade the person who trapped you to release you? You talk so much and so on and on. I'm afraid you haven't spoken to more than a handful of people in all these years."

"That's quite ironic," she said, her tone still like an opera. "So you think I'm instigating you, huh? What do you have that's worthy of my instigating? Just because you happened to run into me in the Crimson Realm?"

"I feel like you're provoking me," Cesar said.

The beast's claws scraped across the bark, tearing the crimson trunk apart. The scars on the bark looked like ruptured tendons. A thick, waxy blood flowed from the heart of the tree. The edges of the tear were jagged and twisted, like a mouth slashed open by a dagger.

"I am indeed provoking you." She raised her voice. "Provocation is the first step in my negotiation. The more you express your resistance, the more I want to deny you. Did you come to the Scarlet Realm to travel? To compose a few poems describing your experiences, and then travel to other places?"

"I'd like to provoke you, too," Cesar replied. "Since you want to talk about transformation, why don't you start with yourself? Put away your claws and stop scratching the tree. Lower your voice and don't disturb the peace here. And most importantly, why don't you become someone else?"

"You're mocking me? Very good, the mockery is good and it touches me deeply. I feel a familiar smell on you, and for some reason, it makes me feel a little uncomfortable..."

"I don't know what you mean," Cesar said.

"No, I get it." She suddenly laughed out loud. "You're not really speaking. You're throwing words like knives, trying to see if you can hurt someone so you can take advantage of them. It's pretty much what I always do. Denial, instigation, inducement, and deception—these methods are all so easy for you to use. It's my fault for taking your first few words seriously. I never take my opening remarks seriously myself."

Cesar's eyebrows twitched, and he felt that he could no longer maintain his nonchalant expression. Why? Was it because she had touched a sore spot?

She continued, "Given your ability to speak half-truths and your lack of fear upon arriving at the Crimson Realm for the first time, you must hold a high position within the city. I won't inquire about the means you used to climb up there."

"As if I could tell you."

"You could just ignore me and walk away. I can't touch you anyway. Since you're negotiating with me, it means you're very interested in my identity and existence. You want to gain some leverage to get through this difficult time, right?"

"I do not deny."

"Very good," she expressed her appreciation. "So, what are your assumptions about my identity and existence? Based on your answer, I will consider a deal with you."

Cesar told her the story of the military wizard and the speculations that Ceshia and he had discussed.

"Firsthand intelligence gathered from the wounded? And combined with the Beastmen's origin story?" she asked. "Yes, whether you gathered it yourself or ordered your servants to gather it for you, it's very good. Let me tell you this: the army mage has been buried in the snake's belly. Soon, you will see his tormented face on the battlefield. Be prepared, my friend, and remember to be on the lookout for the signs of death."

"There are too many signs of death in this place," Cesar expressed his dissatisfaction to her.

"It's pointless to explain it clearly," she said nonchalantly. "People like you can use even a branch as a boat to row to the other side of the river."

"You're talking about a deal with me when you don't even have a branch? What do you expect me to give you? A rotten leaf?"

"I'm enjoying looking at myself through the mirror, covered in human skin. Don't you enjoy looking at yourself through the mirror without human skin?"

"Even if I'm covered in human skin, if I don't take it off until I die, it doesn't matter what's underneath. So it doesn't matter to me what you are," Cesar replied.

"People come to the Scarlet Realm to control the direction of their transformation within their own control," she continued. "To achieve this, every night they project their souls here to wander, travel, and examine themselves. I highly recommend you do this, but considering your situation, you may not have much time."

"what does that mean?"

"This means your chances of escaping the signs of death are slim," she said. "This isn't just a secular siege. Now that you've seen me, you should understand. If you're sure you understand, I'll provide you with a shortcut that will allow you to quickly climb a significant distance along the path."

"Shortcuts always come with a price." Cesar said that he had taken quite a few shortcuts in this world, and each one was accompanied by huge troubles and burdens.

"Yes, I will tear off one of my wolf claws and give it to you. You can use it whenever you want, or accept or throw it away whenever you want. If you know that you cannot escape the sign of death, you can use it wisely. But from then on, your

A part of your soul will be mine, meaning you gave it to me. As for the part of your soul that you gave me, since it is mine, I will not allow you to share it with anyone else. If you do so, I will tear it out of you and let you die in agony.

"So..." Cesar looked at her wolf claws that were tightly gripping the tree trunk, "What good would it do to you if I used this thing? Would it mean that if I used your wolf claws, the chains that originally bound you would no longer be able to hold you?"

"Chains can't hold me back," the other said matter-of-factly. "It's just that the time hasn't come yet."

It was a half-truth, a lie that amounted to nothing. Who knew if her captors would seal themselves and her into the same cage as the evil monster before the time came? However, compared to the impending siege by the grassland people, a single evil creature possessing a human was nothing.

"How are you going to give it to me?"

There was a rustling sound between the trees. Cesar sat there, waiting quietly, with Phils still lying on his back, guiding his soul with her method.

A deafening roar echoed, and the invisible soundwaves suddenly took on a dazzling blood-red hue, blooming like flowers, rapidly parting the densely packed redwoods. In an instant, a tunnel appeared before his eyes. The tunnel was lined with endless branches, with no sight of sky or ground. Within it lay a beast more than three men tall. It was slender, with graying fur and long limbs. Its body resembled a human covered in wolf hair, but with a narrow, wolf-like head.

When Cesar saw her face clearly, he saw that the sound of her roar had lifted up the mangroves like the tide of the sea, gathering around her body like a blood-red mist, and flowing through the gaps between her sharp teeth that looked like jade works of art.

"So," she said with a twisted smile through her wolf mouth, which was shrouded in blood mist, "Do you think my left paw or my right paw is best?"

......

Gouzi was copying down mathematical formulas as he'd ordered. Cesar rose in the darkness, carrying the dazed Phils to a chair beside the bed. The table held enough space for a water cup and a plate, as well as the wolf claw he'd pulled from his bosom. In the scarlet land, the claw was as long as his arm, its cross-section oozing blood mist. But on the table, it looked like a delicate white jade work, not much bigger than his hand.

Cesar looked at Phils thoughtfully, then he circled his wolf claw over her head. A few imperceptible blood mists were immediately sucked out and attached to it, and then she slowly woke up.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have been so eager to guide me," he said. "It seems the Crimson Realm is dangerous to those who don't belong there. These things wouldn't matter to me, but to you..."

"Our ancestors said that those of you on the Dao can easily get lost in the outer realms. Once your soul is projected into the outer realms, it can never return. But we can't just avoid it forever." Firth closed her eyes again and leaned against him. "I haven't tried guiding yet, so there are bound to be some mistakes. Once I get used to it, things will go smoothly."

"I've actually been avoiding doing this." He poured a glass of water and handed it to her mouth, "You're still too young..."

"I'm not young anymore."

"That's too young."

"I know I'm too young." Firth swallowed, "But I should have entered the Crimson Realm over a month ago. I was delayed by the Temple and couldn't do it. It's like a person must breathe. First the blood vessels, then the nerves and tendons. Over time, the suffocation reaction will lead to increasingly severe loss of control."

Chapter 65: Speaking as if I could really do something

"I haven't noticed you doing that lately."

Cesar said. He saw Fils's light-blond flaxen hair shake, then tilt her head back up to look at him. She looked wide awake, but still had dark circles under her eyes. It looked like she hadn't slept well in the barracks, or maybe something was keeping her tossing and turning.

"What do you want to say? Do you think I should act on my own? Perhaps," she muttered to herself. "I don't understand what you're doing, and I can't offer any advice. However, I'm going to do the same for you. I've been enduring this in the inn for a long time. With the people from the temple watching, I can't do anything. It feels like I'm trapped in an iron cage."

As Firth spoke, she sat up, her movements even slower and more sluggish than usual after drinking. This time, however, she patted her cheeks, forcing herself to sober up. Cesar watched as she pulled out a scroll of manuscript and wrote several hieroglyphics on a page that looked like the Scarlet Realm. He couldn't understand it, so she pointed to her own records and began to explain.

She said that the Scarlet Realm was filled with the minds of the dead. If one projected their souls there, they would seep into people's hearts and stay with them. Even if they were only slightly touched, these minds would reside deep in the soul, disturbing and eroding their sanity.

The above clauses are the conclusions she has drawn from her own personal experiences tonight, which just happen to supplement and confirm the missing parts of the ancestral records. After multiple confirmations, she will write these conclusions into the school's true knowledge records. Their knowledge is compiled and written down in this way by generations.

She also said that those who walked on Cesar's path needed to project their souls into the Scarlet Land and absorb the nutrients that allowed the minds of the dead to survive, so as to alleviate the desire brought by the curse.

Otherwise, he would either devour the flesh and blood of others to satisfy his momentary hunger, or endure it all the time.

Endurance caused the curse to rot and spread, driving the entire being into madness. Over time, his body, along with his rotting soul, turned to ash and drifted away, becoming the fragments of the dead that filled the Crimson Land.

Other contact

Like him, everyone in the outer realm, whether Count Thane or his commander, Askrid, would project their souls into some crazy and bizarre region of the outer realm to replace their dreams. In those places, objectivity gave way to subjectivity, and reality succumbed to will, reflecting another structure of existence.

The deeper people's contact with the outside world, the more likely they are to undergo abnormal changes, allowing the stable structure of reality to be distorted in the face of their own desires.

After finishing his speech, Phils took out a bag of money and poured a pile of coins onto the table. There were fewer coins than he remembered.

"Today, we're using some cheap ingredients," she said, unexpectedly bringing up a very down-to-earth topic. "I bought all sorts of animal blood and offal... but we still have to be frugal."

Cesar was almost stunned. "You're still spending all this money?"

"This is my own money. It's originally mine. Of course I use my own money to do things myself." Phils counted on her fingers. "Some of the money is for the old man to watch over the evil monsters, some is for the old man to prepare alchemical materials, some is for the old man to watch over the experimental furnace and record the reactions, and some is for the old man to deal with the rotting corpse..."

"What about when we get to Iris?"

"Once I get to Itris, I'll be able to earn even more. I heard similar work in Itris pays twice as much as the old guy does."

"Actually, you can get the money from Libio's inheritance," Cesar said.

His choice of words made Firth grumble. "You'd better use it to pay your apprenticeship fees." She continued transcribing her observations and thoughts about the Crimson Realm. "That money is more than I have, but it won't keep you going for long, and it's not enough to pay for the various materials I'll need in the future."

"At least you can take some of the money you've spent supporting me for over a month."

"When you have a stable source of money, I will ask you to return the money."

Cesar wanted to say that he had just solved the problem with Noien's financial officer and that many things were not a problem, but seeing that she was concentrating on keeping accounts for him, he did not reply.

He felt as if there was another Fils in his arms, one he had never noticed before. It seemed that no matter how close a person was to another, no matter how intimate their relationship, the other person they saw was not the person themselves, but a vague reflection in their minds.

Initially, he hadn't noticed her escape from the castle, changing her name from Firriels to Firth, but the very act of running away was a symbol. Her departure wasn't a sudden, rash decision, nor was it driven by a desire to find someone to cling to. On the contrary, she had always harbored the thought and preparation for it, even now. Even in her most bewildered moments, she maintained a sense of economics, a testament to this.

Cesar discovered that Phils had endured so much hardship with him in the slums of Dog Hole, never complaining and growing closer to him. But as he climbed the social ladder, acquiring worldly status and connections, the distance between them grew. This wasn't because she distanced herself, but because she didn't want to follow others. Therefore, every step he took away from the path was a step away from her.

He hadn't noticed this Phils, hidden beneath her petulance, her biting, her self-pity.

Perhaps from the beginning, she had intended to travel alone across the entire Domini Kingdom, from Noien to Itris. If he went there, she would wander the world with him, but if he didn't go, then this would just be a fateful relationship with no end.

"Do you want to master some knowledge that has never existed in this world? Perhaps it will be useful for your future research on magic." Cesar thought for a moment and asked her, "Although I'm not entirely sure."

Her head tilted back up, and he saw the deep blue pupils in her eyes, which looked like they were reflecting the night sky. "What do you know? I've always felt that you know more than anyone I've ever met, but I've never heard you explain it in detail."

"I want to hear about your knowledge first," Cesar said. "What have you learned to explore those realms beyond reality?" He picked her up, holding her waist and knees, and carried her all the way to the basin of water that had just been heated by the coals. As she leaned against him, she felt as fragile as a nightingale. It was hard to imagine that she was planning to cross the entire Dominican Kingdom alone.

"No matter which school, it all starts with metaphysics." Firth sat on a stool, closed her eyes, and let him pour water from her hair to her feet. "Although the direction may vary later, in the field of magic, metaphysics is always the root. Like language and semantics, existence and perception, meaning and entity, all explorations must extend from it."

"Is there anything closer to reality?" Cesar washed the blood off her body.

"Hmm... maybe logic and geometry, which we often use when building spell structures," she said.

"I'm going to teach those artillery geometry tomorrow," he held Phils' waist and asked her to turn around, "I'll do a pre-drill with you tonight. I also want to see your geometry.

How far has the theory progressed?

Phils kissed his face, then held his neck like a cat and pressed against him. This was her way of showing affection, which at first involved biting, but a few days ago, after he repeatedly requested it, it finally changed to a gentle kiss.

He pursed his lips. That day, when he said he wanted to teach a puppy not to bite people, he was actually talking about her.

Feeling her heart beating against his, César managed a sigh of relief. After discovering that there was another Fils in her heart, he realized that perhaps what worried him more wasn't her own safety, but the possibility that she might suddenly disappear. He felt like she was like mist: though she had lingered so closely around him until now, at some point she would suddenly dissipate, impossible to grasp.

Cesar had always had this uneasiness, and now that he realized this, it had almost become a premonition. He remembered that when he escaped from the castle, he stretched out his hand to her, just to buy himself a little more chance to escape, but now he stretched out his hand, but he wanted to tie her life to his at all times.

Was this also the desire brought on by the transformation? Or was he just that... greedy?

......

Ajiehe, who was dozing in the tent, suddenly woke up. She looked at her left hand and gently stretched out her fingers, finding it moved freely, without hindrance or delay. It was so nimble, as if no one was disturbing her.

"What did you do?" Ajiehe asked.

The skinny beastman was looking down at her from above. "You've never paid attention to me, so why are you asking now?"

"I'm asking you this on behalf of my people," Ajeh said. She shook her head, stood up, and walked out of her tent perched on the hilltop, gazing at the port city of Noien in the distance. "This battle concerns the lifeblood of the Sassulai people. You are the most unsettling factor for me."

"You can't even represent the name Ajehe, and yet you expect to represent the Sasoulai?" the Beastman scoffed in her ear. "Do you remember what the old Kuna said? There are three Ajehes. One is in the minds of the Sasoulai, another is in the minds of the Beastmen, and the third is the one that should have existed but never was, split in two at birth." She shook her narrow wolf head. "If our paths cannot align, then you are just a fragmented, broken piece."

"That's a good point, and it's appropriate to tell you about it," Ajiehe replied nonchalantly. "By the way, you've seen that portrait, right?"

"I have seen it, is there any problem?"

"It's nothing. It's just that the portrait in your memory, which had been sinking very low, suddenly floated up tonight." Ajiehe continued, "Cesar, is it? There was an assassination attempt that failed tonight. I hope it has nothing to do with you."

"You talk as if I can actually do anything."

Chapter 66 I Dreamed About This

......

Firth's knowledge was so advanced that Cesar, at her age, would probably only be able to see past her heels. However, as a mage with a school of thought, this wasn't surprising. By comparison, the basic knowledge of the Noyen artillery captains was hopeless. Fortunately, he wasn't here to teach; his goal was simply to handle the siege. He didn't need them to understand the principles or the detailed calculations.

After comprehensive consideration, Cesar wrote down the necessary equations on a piece of paper while Gouzi drew a diagram beside him, preparing to combine his memory from the previous night to perform the calculations on the spot. He didn't understand the ballistics of this era, but solving differential and integral equations based on the parameters and motion trajectory given by the chief engineer was not a problem.

He couldn't truly teach them a complete set of principles, and that was pointless. Therefore, he planned to compile a detailed conversion chart based on Noyen's city defenses and architectural structure. By then, the artillery captains wouldn't need to understand the entire process; they could simply find a plate and engrave the conversion chart. Then, based on the muzzle angle, bevel, and desired impact point, they could perform simple, low-level calculations to predict the approximate trajectory.

Gouzi dipped his quill in ink and began tracing a parabola on the giant scroll of parchment. It wasn't that Cesar couldn't draw, but Noyen was so short of everything that it simply wasn't feasible. He could find the right tools, but it would be cumbersome and time-consuming, so he might as well just pass the job on to his nominal assistant.

It has to be said that the images depicted by the dog are extremely perfect and shocking, with no errors at all, more accurate than the geometric figures he drew with a ruler and compass, and even as accurate as mathematics itself.

She used only a feather pen to draw a straight coordinate system, and then drew an accurate curve according to the analytical geometry equations he gave, with each arc depicted precisely and accurately. Then, she pointed out each coordinate according to the parameters he gave.

"This requires some, uh, differential calculus," Cesar said hesitantly.

Trigonometric functions are easy to deal with, because there are no corresponding names for differentials and integrals in this world, so many words were completely made up by him last night.

"Don't worry about differential calculus for now; just know it's a calculation method for deriving ballistic trajectories," he continued. "I'll predict the trajectory of this cannon when it's facing forward at a 45-degree angle. Then, on a chart, I'll list the trajectory changes and launch angle recommendations for different altitudes and azimuths. When it comes time for actual practice, I hope you can quickly complete the calculations by referring to the charts, and follow the instructions to accurately strike the besieging enemy and any siege engines."

Cesar paused and glanced around at the artillery officers sitting on the ground with wide eyes. As expected, the difficult equations and calculations on the paper completely suppressed their doubts.

This is not because mathematical knowledge can convince people, but he is showing a

The ballistics they memorized was a more complex and difficult, yet more accurate, method of prediction. In simpler terms, he was showing them the higher-level secrets of the industry, completely free of charge. If they were lucky enough to learn it, they could transform themselves from low-paid rural artillerymen into artillery officers more professional than those cadets from the Kingdom's military academy.