Shadow of the Evil God

“But

How many people, like you, have fallen into this trap without realizing it?" Her tone seemed to hint at a subtle smile, a meaningful one; she seemed to find it quite amusing. "When Musali was first captured, you had plenty of opportunities to leave the city, and I'm sure you had plenty of opportunities before that, too," she said.

“Yes, but I got my opportunities through others.

I can’t just let it go like this.”

"Isn't there a fair deal in there that would allow people to get out easily?"

"No. It's almost all friendship. Don't you have any friendship with your brother?"

She slowed down and thought for a moment.

"Indeed not," she said. "Everything between Musali and me was a fair deal, including this expedition."

"One of you must have a big problem," Cesar said.

“Of course,” she said. “I’m the one with the big problem. After all, Musali is the leader everyone in the tribe respects, but I’m the one who’s going to mess things up.”

Ajeh walked up the last stretch of the dilapidated stone path to the city wall, followed by Cesar. He paused for a moment at the ruined dog pit behind him, then gazed out at the vast sea of ​​military tents outside the city. These tents stretched from several miles outside the city walls to the foot of the mountain beyond. Earthen walls were built on the ground, pierced by spikes and stakes, and trenches were dug underground. Countless horses and carts, laden with military supplies, filled the midst of the tents.

Judging from the size of the baggage train, these supplies should be enough to sustain them until early spring. In other words, the steppe people wouldn't actually besiege Noien for an entire season; they would eventually return to the steppe before spring arrived. The herds needed to be driven to summer pastures before summer, and spring sowing would require a lot of manpower.

But none of that matters now.

Cesar glanced around, finally settling on the farther horizon, the main road heading north. At the end of the road, Olidan's army could be seen slowly approaching. Draped in their finest attire, they looked more like the king's guards inspected at a festival than the Sasoulai, who had been marching so quickly. The well-trained legions marched in neat, square formations across the snow. In the gusts of wind, nearly a hundred red and black lion flags, rimmed with gold, fluttered above the ranks in the morning light. Looking out from the city walls, one could easily imagine themselves as the king reviewing his troops.

"That's quite exaggerated," said Ajiehe.

"They're not here to fight," Ceshia said, walking over from the tower at the other end of the city wall. "When we fought in the north, there wasn't this kind of scene. If there was, it meant the war was coming to an end, and important figures were coming to witness the ceremony declaring the war over."

"How do you describe this kind of situation in your idiom?" Cesar suddenly asked. He felt that the atmosphere was not right. If he didn't speak up to ease the situation, something he didn't want to happen would probably happen.

"Why do you ask this?"

"I'm just curious about how your mercenary group privately slanders and complains about them."

She curled her lips. "Someone's come to visit the brothel with a big crowd."

As Ceshia spoke, she paced over, staring at the dagger at Ajeh's waist for a moment, then intently examining her thick felt coat, as if assessing her figure and shape. After a moment, Ceshia finally spoke, "Yes, you were the assassin who attacked the tower. Did you easily kill everyone?"

Cesar smelled a subtle sense of tension.

"Not everyone, otherwise, how could the news spread?" Ajiehe replied.

"That's easy to say." Cecilia said thoughtfully.

"Aren't you going to participate in the welcoming ceremony over there, teacher?" Cesar interrupted impatiently.

Cecia smiled slightly. "I've never attended such a solemn and elegant occasion. It wasn't my turn before, and now I'm just not used to it. I'm more curious about what happened then."

"I work for my own employer just like you. If I kill one of your people, there's no reason for me to ask for your forgiveness. Are you here to figure out how to cut my neck?" Ajiehe asked back.

"That's not the case," Ceshia patted Cesar's shoulder. "Black Sword works for money. In this line of work, dying on the battlefield is nothing to be ashamed of. But I'm still surprised that the people in the tower died so easily. Now that I see you, I'm curious, do people in your profession look upon us poor humans the same way a butcher looks upon cattle and sheep?"

"I'm not a butcher, so I don't understand how they view cattle and sheep. Why don't you tell me how a butcher would view cattle and sheep first." Ajiehe threw the question back.

"Eat them." Cecilia suppressed her smile.

"I can guarantee that this guy doesn't eat people." Cesar immediately interrupted, "The one who eats people now..."

"I've never told you whether I've ever eaten anyone, Cesar," Ajeh said. "If you want to show unconditional trust to others, then I think it's meaningless. If you want to avoid conflict, then I think the longer you wait, the more likely the wound will fester."

Chapter 90: Soul Intertwining

Cesar wanted to refute, after all, he always had countless arguments and fallacies to throw out to challenge others. However, at this moment, a feeling of drowsiness suddenly came over him, and he had no time to struggle or resist. He felt himself falling -

He found himself in another place, but he was still on top of the wall, with a terrible gap on one side and a devastated city on the other.

The towers of the city towered above, and in the distance, on the snow-covered horizon, one could see the Ouldan army approaching Noien. Seshia stood before him, a hand on Cesar's shoulder. A biting, cold wind blew continuously, but it couldn't penetrate the thick felt coat that covered his body, nor did it scratch the face beneath his mask.

Why is he wearing a thick felt coat?

Even his face was covered? And why could he see himself in front of him?

It didn't take long for Cesar to answer his own question. Soon, he realized that something unspeakable connected here and there, allowing him to see himself through Ajeh's eyes.

If he hadn't heard Firth's theories about magic, he would have mistaken it for empathy, but he had heard her talk, so it didn't take him long to remember her incomprehensible remarks.

The little witch had many bizarre theories, some of which were particularly impressive. One of them was that the flesh and blood body was not a container for the soul, but a surface for observing the external world, a point of intersection between the soul and reality. Therefore, the soul did not exist in the flesh and blood body, but intersected with reality on a void plane. The body was this point of intersection, the surface through which it perceived reality.

Cesar thought of this because what was happening seemed to confirm Firth's theory. He stood where Ajeh had stood, felt like Ajeh, perhaps because the two Ajehs weren't sisters, but rather the same soul. Although one Ajeh had its own mind and was still attached to his body, they were still the same soul. They were separated in the real world, but in another, empty space, they were still together, one and the same.

Both of their bodies were surfaces that allowed them to peek out, but unlike him and the more human Ajeh, the animalistic Ajeh could observe the world from two intersections at the same time. Somehow, he also saw himself through the intersection that had nothing to do with him.

What’s the point of figuring this out?

Maybe not, but at least it can make him understand the current situation.

Thinking further, why was he here? Thinking of this, Cesar realized that his connection with his body had weakened, and it was getting weaker and weaker. Conversely, Ajeh's physical senses were becoming increasingly clear in his mind, almost merging with him. He could hear his own heartbeat in his chest, then gradually fading away, almost becoming an imperceptible line.

He is being pushed out of his own…

Before Cesar could think any further, Ajeh had already drawn his sword and stepped forward. Ceshia was slightly surprised, as if she hadn't expected this guy to act faster than her. Her expression instantly faded, and her body reacted immediately, faster than he could think.

Ajeh's blade wielded with the grace of a wild animal, devoid of form or technique, yet capable of forcing Seshia to retreat, searching for a foothold. The dagger wasn't so much a blade as a thin, sharp blade of metal. From Ajeh's perspective, it looked even shorter than it actually was, like a part of her hand, a sharpened claw plucked from her own body. Each strike was either fatal or devastating, her movements as simple and animalistic as a beast's.

In contrast, each of Ceshia's sword strikes had a methodical formula. Though human, after barely blocking her first strike, she became increasingly adept at it. With each clash of swords, the clanging of metal and steel, Cesar observed through Ajehe's perception, that those moves and techniques seemed overly complex, full of flashy movements, far inferior to Ajehe's swift and powerful strikes. However, when combined with Ceshia's own power, their effect became completely different.

Cesar saw Ceshia lean forward, turn her wrist, and thrust the blade out with almost no movement of her arm, stabbing it straight at her face.

The blow forced Ajeh to step back to block, the blade retreating. Immediately after this strike, Ceshia launched a counterattack with dizzying speed, each strike faster than the last. Each strike followed the previous one, selecting the most efficient method of movement. Sometimes she twisted her wrist without moving her body, sometimes she twisted her back without moving her arms, and sometimes she had just blocked the blade when she transformed the block into an unstoppable counter-stab, forcing Ajeh to leap back.

From Cesar's perspective, Ajeh's fleeting foresight into the future had become a complex web of long lines, but these foresights only served to keep her retreating, responding to the onslaught of blows. Each of her tentative counterattacks was met with a perfectly executed counterattack from Ceshia, forcing her to employ her entire body to counter it. She wielded her blade with her physical prowess and natural talent, like a beast operating on instinct, while her opponent relied solely on practiced techniques, exploiting the human body to its fullest potential.

Regardless, this sword technique wasn't honed on the battlefield, and Ceshia herself couldn't be considered a battlefield-born swordsman. Of the sword techniques she mastered, what she taught Cesar was probably only a small part.

Ajehe slid aside again, she retracted her blade, shielding herself. The opponent, realizing she could evade the blow, immediately interrupted the attack and followed up, transforming the low thrust into a diagonal upward slash. Ajehe had anticipated the opponent's short-term sword swing, but she hadn't foreseen that her escape route was blocked. Another large step back would have put her at risk of falling to the wall. While she wouldn't die, she would have already lost.

So, why did she know this? Because a good teacher taught her how to force people into a desperate situation step by step, and used this method to defeat her many times. Ajiehe suddenly paused. Where did she get her teacher? And her memory

Why does the teacher in the story look so similar to the enemy in front of me?

She didn't have time to think, and used the method she remembered to perform a feint. She took a small step back, swung her knife down to block, and

At the same time, she immediately raised her foot and kicked the opponent's knee, but the opponent also paused, then turned her wrist and slashed the sword towards her calf. After changing her moves, Ajiehe immediately turned around and went around to the left side of Seshia, because this guy's left-hand sword has always been worse than his right-hand sword.

She remembered it,—why did she remember it?

Chapter 91 You Can Treat Yourself as Her

There was no reason, simply because she remembered not only the memory of learning martial arts, but also the memory of fighting with the mercenary captain. All the past memories were vivid in her mind.

Due to her cursed identity, Ajehe had never practiced the martial arts passed down to her tribe by the Kuna people. Her so-called combat skills, to put it bluntly, were simply based on watching her tribe fight, trying to pick up a few moves.

In the past, she'd learned enough within the tribe, but things were different now. She wanted to explore the world beyond the tribe, but most destinations were now remote wildernesses, teeming with unpredictable dangers. If she couldn't even get past Seshia, how could she even dream of traveling on her own?

In that case, the choice of finding someone to learn martial arts from is not surprising - in that case, there is no need to ask.

She was undoubtedly herself, Ajeh, with her traceable memories.

So why was she still questioning herself? She didn't consider herself someone who questioned herself often, but this level of self-doubt was abnormally high, causing her heart to tighten, as if a gaping hole had been opened in her chest and then filled with something else. Was it because she was upset? Perhaps. She had chosen a different path; before, she had simply withdrawn from society to escape.

Should she change her name as well? Ajiehe was just a symbol anyway, so she might as well come up with something more pleasant to her ears.

Once again, Ajeh drew upon her memory to parry Seshia's thrust. She slid to match her opponent's movements, swinging her blade straight at his cheek. As he attempted to block, she quickly shifted her stance, interrupting the blow and deflecting it with a backhand. The mercenary captain's torrential blows slowed, and he took a large step back, snorting softly.

Thanks to her good teacher's careful guidance, she was able to use the martial arts she taught so skillfully. In the past, she hadn't used her physical fitness to the fullest, and she was always easily defeated. Now, with this advantage, things would naturally be different.

As long as she maintains this state, winning the battle on the city wall will not be a problem. If blood is needed, then let them shed some blood. After all, this is the only way to make a deep impression. They simultaneously extended their sharp blades and cut towards -

"Wait!" someone shouted from a distance, "Stop first, both of you!"

Then came a series of inhuman words. The incantation, like the shrieking of a ghost, instantly hurled itself against the city wall. The snow and dust on the ground remained calm, the wind blowing gently, yet she felt a turbulent current sweeping through her body, unsteadying her footing and causing her to dizzy, as if she were thrown into a whirlpool at the center of a storm.

This was a spell, but she shouldn't have fallen for it so easily, unless someone had mastered the spell to the point where their very existence distorted the surrounding reality, or the caster was someone she trusted unconditionally and had opened up all the defenses of her soul to.

The spell grabbed hold of her and pulled her away, like a bundle of ropes tied to an anchor and thrown over a cliff. He felt himself being dragged down, and then stumbled back several steps in reality, not only falling to the ground, but also hitting the back of his head on the battlement of the city wall. He breathed in the cold air with his mouth wide open, feeling like a person who had just woken up and fallen out of bed.

"Are you okay?" Phils asked, squatting beside him.

"Not very good." Cesar still felt confused. "I just realized that so-called memory is just a story from a subjective point of view. It can be modified and scribbled at will, and I can always find reasons to convince myself that everything is true."

"I'm asking about your current situation." The girl poked her finger into his face, digging into the flesh. "Not about those endless myths you have."

"I can barely tell I'm not that guy in the thick felt coat." He rubbed the slight bump on the back of his head. "Can you tell I'm not a very subtle heir to a noble family, Your Highness?"

Ajiehe also sat down against the wall, clutching her forehead. "Where did you get that lousy nickname?"

"Maybe it's to inherit the will of the dead."

The mercenary captain raised an eyebrow and studied them for a moment. "Can you explain the situation to me? I can guess a little, but I don't want to make any rash judgments, especially since I felt like I'd accepted a student I'd never met before."

Firth shifted her focus to prying open his eyelids, examining the bloodshot veins. "It's hard to describe," she said, "but imagine a demon seeking a new way to possess his body pushed his soul out, back to where it belonged." She glanced at Ajeh, "and then, their consciousnesses became strangely intertwined. Because memories themselves are fragmented, subjective stories, they were the first to become confused..."

“I also feel very

"It's incredible," Ajeh spread her fingers. "I actually took other people's experiences for granted. Not only did I not question them, I even made excuses for their contradictions."

"If I don't help him." Phil looked at them.

"Now you're a lunatic with disordered memories, or should I say you're better off?" She turned her head, her hair brushing against her cheek. "Finding a new way is a good thing, because it means it can't occupy his body using the usual methods. But until we find a more thorough solution, it's best if you two don't get too close."

"It doesn't matter," Ajeh said. "I'll be traveling alone soon. Maybe I'll come to you with a solution to my problem, or maybe I'll die along the way. But until then, I'll definitely not be on your route."

The guy stood up from the ground. "As for our business..." She turned her head to look at Ceshia, "I already know who exactly I killed among your men, but I have no intention of repaying you for it. After all, we all know that getting killed is part of your job."

Cecia said nothing, her eyebrows twitching. Cesar knew why. The mercenary captain had just said that to him, and only in private. Back then, she'd said it to illustrate the nature of mercenary work. While there was some exaggeration in it, it was woven from her own life experiences and personal insights. Speaking privately was perfectly harmless, but now...

Ajeh felt that this statement was a reflection of her own memories and experiences, almost unconsciously. She didn't even notice the memory coming back until she stepped off the wall. What about him? Would he accidentally call Musali "brother" or something like that in public? Cesar asked himself. If he really said it casually, something might be a problem.

It was not until he watched Ajeh disappear that Cesar realized that Ceshia had been staring at him.

"How about I pay double the money and reward, my good teacher." He forced a smile, "and pay one portion for her. Just treat her as your unworthy disciple."

"We'll meet at the city's barracks tonight and try our hand at different weapons." Ceshia patted his shoulder with a smile. The meaning of their smiles was vastly different. "Remember to use what I taught you, just like that guy did. Can you do that, my good disciple?"

"That's too much to ask," Cesar said immediately.

"You can pretend you are her," she said with a smile.

"Are you serious?"

Ceshia frowned hard, with a slightly distorted smile on her face: "Then why did she just say something that only you have heard? Isn't it because she thinks she is you? So now, when we fight later, can I treat you as her?"

"this......."

"Then it's settled." Cecilia spread her hands and said, "But then again, even if you can get a little bit from her, you'll be much better than before. Since there's no way to escape it, just treat it as nourishment - after all, it hasn't poisoned you to death."

Chapter 92 Why Hasn’t He Been Beaten to Death Yet?

......

That evening, several qualified mercenary captains proposed to follow the temple into the venue, as they were their nominal employers. However, Seshia declined. Witnessing an unprecedented treaty signing at the Earl's Castle in Upper Noyen and observing the previously unseen clash of dignitaries was something to look forward to. However, some unspeakable matters were best avoided.

She was from Olidan and had seen how the great nobles acted. She could realize that what was going to happen tonight was definitely more than just the signing of a peace treaty.

So, what excuse could they find to completely avoid this? It wasn't difficult, actually. They could just go to the temple and help tend to the wounded and sick. After all, many of their own people were lying in wait there. This made perfect sense. Even if the temple invited them, Seshia would have plenty of reasons to stay put.

Many mercenaries were too humble to grasp the gravity of the situation, but along the way, some noticed something amiss. A large flock of crows was circling over Noien, a strange sight in the dusky glow of the setting sun. This sight rarely occurred, except in the aftermath of a bloody battle, as it had happened in Noien that day.

"My personal advice is, don't pay too much attention to what's going on, and don't go near the hill where the castle is," Ceshia said in an eerily gentle tone. "Unless one of you is planning to be invited to a basement cell while doing business at Domini, and be greeted by some suspicious metal objects. Or maybe, after saving enough money to quit, you and your family will be killed in a rage in the middle of the night, and the entire farm will be burned to the ground."

"Is it that serious?" someone asked.

Since she was already the de facto head of Noien, and her former colleagues all recognized her as their leader, Ceshia led them around the crowd. Once they reached a less crowded area and confirmed that no one outside the group could hear their conversation, she nodded.

"My answer is simple," she said. "Yes. First of all, you haven't witnessed the power struggles among the nobles, so you can't fully understand how they act. I'll tell you directly, this is not a treaty that will be signed peacefully. It will most likely be bloody, and it seems that this is already happening. Noyen is still a Dominican city after all, and there will be many conflicts due to various reasons.

If there is any way to quickly deal with the nobles who will not agree to betray Dominy for some reason, you will know it tomorrow."

"Then why do we..."

Seshia continued in a gentle voice

"Secondly, if the victims get a list of the parties involved, they'll usually start their retaliation against the easiest ones to target. I hope you understand my point: the Black Sword itself isn't the easiest to target, but individuals like you and me, who are merely paid to do the job, certainly are. Think about it: the nobles are so deeply connected by their intertwined relationships and connections. But for us mercenaries, who signed a subcontract, what connection do we have with the Black Sword besides the money? If disaster strikes, we'll disappear somewhere without a trace, and no one will pay attention."

Perhaps because her expression was so gentle, some people took a few steps back and subconsciously covered their faces. Of course, this had something to do with her. Some mercenaries who had just been assigned to her team would pour out their thoughts without thinking, and would always talk without considering the occasion, which would naturally lead to bad things.

To prevent any real trouble, Cecia would offer some advice, have a few words, or give a punch to those who repeatedly failed to learn their lesson. With a gentle, enthusiastic smile, he would send them flying like rag dolls, observing their reactions. Usually, this punch would land on their face, drawing blood from their mouths; after all, that was the most memorable.

Seshia continued to lead the team to the temple, adding, "Remember to help with all your might. Let others know that we are working for the temple. The more conspicuous the better."

.......

For some reason, some previously unseen individuals had arrived uninvited tonight, staying for extended periods. They were also paying close attention to the wounded, seemingly intending to spend the night with them. As for the Earl's child, while it was unclear why he wasn't attending the meeting and instead seemed intent on staying overnight, he was clearly an unusual individual, and Kallen didn't find anything he did strange.

She didn't care, but other people in the temple didn't think so.