Shadow of the Evil God

He held his sword steady, slowly inhaling the foul air mingled with the stench of burnt flesh and blood, watching the leading cavalry charge through the thick smoke. The armored black horse neighed as it charged toward him, its rider leaning heavily on his lance and shouting loudly. The rider's voice was incredibly heroic, and it seemed to hold a conviction unknown to him, almost making him believe he was the rebel.

Cesar raised his sword, feeling his nerves connected to the blade's tip, connected by his bloodstream. When he met the lance's tip, it was as if he were reaching out with his fingertips to touch it. He guided the lance's thrust with the tip of his sword, causing it to pass by him. Then, with a powerful blow, he brought it down, severing both of the horse's hind legs. The horse neighed loudly and fell to the ground, sending its rider screaming as he was thrown back, slamming hard against the boulder where Cesar had been sitting.

The man tried to get up, but Cesar swung his sword down and stabbed it into the back of his neck like a speared fish, penetrating his cervical vertebrae.

Cesar opened his gauntlets and lifted the rider's armored body. He gripped the dead man's thighs and swung the body out like a heavy block of iron. The heavy block struck a brown warhorse that had just broken through the smoke of gunfire, shattering its skull and sending it tumbling to the ground with its rider, sending a cloud of dust billowing into the air.

The smoke from the artillery, mixed with dust, obscured vision like a thick fog, but he could still see everything clearly. The knight stumbled to his feet, shield raised, and opened his mouth to roar. Cesar was already in front of him and slashed with his sword. The blow cleaved through the leather-covered wooden shield, splitting the knight's raised arm and his open-mouthed face in two. Blood splattered on the blade, forming black spots that then vanished.

Cesar wanted to pick up the rider and throw him like the next piece of iron, but his hand involuntarily reached over his head and into the gaping hole in his cheek. His hand, like a plunge into water, tore the jawbone, slashed the spine, and crushed the ribcage, then grasped the dead man's heart. The viscera shattered like fruit, and he didn't even need to exert force. Blood mixed with bone shards soaked his gauntlet, and he felt it so clearly that he had no doubt that his senses extended to the metal gauntlet.

It's really weird...

Then he paused, bewildered by the realization that the enemy was fewer than he had imagined. Through the thick smoke, it became clear that the two men who had charged earlier had simply rushed into the smoke too quickly, unable to stop their horses. The other cavalrymen charging toward the slope reined in their horses at the command of their commander. While the cavalry on either side bypassed the pass, this cavalry unit stopped just outside the smoke, facing him from a distance...

They seemed to be...waiting.

The smoke and dust severely obscured the view, so it was unwise to rush up the hill. However, the cavalry on a rapid march could not have carried artillery, and judging by their lack of bows and muskets, it was unlikely they could fire a volley from a distance.

What are they waiting for?

Cesar suddenly had an idea. A mage? That was the only explanation. But how could it be possible? No matter how exaggerated the local rebellion was, there wouldn't be mages using war spells. But with heavy cavalry on this scale, it seemed possible that mages who weren't just intelligence agents were present.

He instinctively stepped back, seeking cover, but crimson light pierced the smoke, outlining the entire slope. In a heartbeat, flames erupted from the ground, radiating like ribbons in all directions. The earth exploded, and he felt as if he were standing in a lake of molten lava. Trees were uprooted as if swept by a hurricane, and shattered rock rose into the air, crumbling under the impact.

The air was knocked from his lungs, his skin was breaking, peeling away from the outer layer of flesh, and his whole body was thrown into the air, then hit the ground and rolled in a pile of charred rocks.

Cesar felt his consciousness collapsing. Scorched flesh and blackened armor clung to each other, creating an eerie sensation, as if the flesh were using the armor as a substitute for his skin, attempting to sustain his life. But the ribbons of flames were not about to let him go. They all turned, drawing a vast arc as if sensing the presence of life, and swung back towards him. What could he do?

"Answer me if you're still alive!" a voice suddenly shouted. "I don't want to bring a dead body back with me!"

At some point, a figure appeared out of nowhere and landed in front of him.

, her long hair fluttering in the scorching air. Although her body looked as delicate as a willow branch, her raised arm was extremely firm. The flames flew over like a swarm of snakes, but they all avoided the inexhaustible force in front of her right hand.

The formless spheres flexed in all directions. They disintegrated one after another in mid-air, vanishing into nothingness as if they had never existed in the first place. This fire was nothingness.

But what should he answer? Cesar couldn't think of a response. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a tearing sound like charcoal grinding. For him, the line between ordinary death and life had always been blurred. And more than that, the boundaries between many, many things in him were also blurred.

The war spell paused, and another tremor washed over him, the sound of iron hooves pounding the ground. Cesar understood they wanted to recover the smuggled artillery, but the thought, like so many others, receded, driven deeper into his soul along with his clear thoughts. He opened his mouth, and the helmet visor, attached to his facial muscles, ripped open like his mouth, sending a cloud of bloody mist gushing out.

“You, no, you are…”

Chapter 128: There's more to it than that

......

Diana had thought her failure to detect the distant spell was her biggest mistake of the day, but now it was. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she was stunned. There were no boundaries between things in this world, not even steel and flesh. The ancestral code suddenly became clear, and her fingers numbed like needles pricking her palms.

This cipher not only describes the mark of Analik, but also the most feared ritual of the previous era.

But why him? Her mentor at the academy had sent her a secret letter, naming Cesar. But her mentor had only told her, not the academy. What was the deeper meaning of this?

As she hesitated, the fragmented words in the ancestral secret text suddenly connected and were confirmed.

Should she report this to the school? Diana knew that if the school received her message, they would capture this man. They would strip him bare, stripping away his bones and flesh, digging out the secrets hidden deep within his soul. The knowledge of the previous era would hold great significance to the mages of all schools. After all, only mages would call the Kuna ancestors, not cursed outcasts.

The charred armor clung to the man's skinless flesh like skin, possessing a living presence. The cracked visor resembled a wolf's mouth, slowly opening and closing with each breath. His breastplate, too, pressed against his abdomen, its metal undulating and undulating texture evident. He turned toward Diana and stepped over the charred remains of a corpse on the ground.

Phantoms from a previous era, beings neither alive nor dead walking the earth, cursed...

Diana knew this man had entered the third horizon, unable to discern the subtle differences between individuals. Therefore, he couldn't tell the difference between her and the cavalrymen below. Every step this man took was a sign of approaching death, but she didn't retreat. She forced herself to recall another cipher from her memory and quickly traced the symbol of the Kuna priest on her chest.

The phantom stopped, stretched out its hand, and touched the seal floating on her chest with its claw-like claws.

"Whether you recognize it or not, Phantom, I am the one who has restored your sanity," she said loudly. "According to the ancient covenant, protecting the priests is your duty."

The bloodshot eyes beneath the steel stared at her, as if he didn't understand what she said.

"This battlefield is already hopeless," Diana continued, her decision already made. "The cavalry charge is unstoppable, and you can't stand here and kill everyone on the battlefield. Not to mention the mages of unknown schools hiding in the shadows, the rebel artillery is likely on its way. If you remain still and hold your breath, I can make you disappear right then and there."

The steel-clad phantom turned and looked towards the battlefield below the hillside.

All lines were indistinguishable. The light cavalry was still using the terrain to maneuver against the heavy cavalry, but they were trapped in the mountains and forests, with a large number of cavalry trying to flank them. The infantry was even more hopeless, either fleeing or on the verge of collapse.

These people are doomed, Diana thought. Despite their brilliant tactics against the smuggling group and their artillery inflicting heavy casualties on the rebels, they were ultimately unable to withstand a charge of this magnitude. If the rebels hadn't tried to recover the artillery, it wouldn't just be this hillside that would have been consumed in the flames, but the entire artillery position.

"If you're still suffering from the uncertainty of your life and death, that's great. I'm the one who can solve all your problems," Diana emphasized. "Don't ask why. The manuscripts I've read describe situations like yours so well that they could fill an entire room."

She spoke hurriedly, for the heavily armored cavalry had already rushed over the hillside, through the completely routed infantry, and were sweeping in like a wave. They were heading straight for the command post on the hillside, straight for them. There was no way she could stop them, not even the mage who had just cast the war spell.

There was no time to do anything at such a close distance, so I could only run away.

"What are you still hesitating about?" she asked again.

"No," the man suddenly said, his voice hoarse and low, "the command post cannot fall."

"It fell when it was burned out!" Diana raised her voice, "Even if you don't die easily,

But in the eyes of everyone who witnessed this scene, how could it be any different from a fall? "

The wolf's mouth was torn open even wider, and the gauntlet was no longer like a claw, but an open sharp blade. She felt that the entire armor was carrying a pungent smell of blood.

The clatter of hooves grew louder. Diana watched as wave after wave of cavalry, lances drawn, emerged from the smoke, charging toward the command post. It was their charge that shattered the infantry lines. Gonzales had provided too few soldiers, inadequately equipped, and frighteningly fragile morale. Once their training was forgotten, their only reaction was to flee screaming.

"What do you want to do?" she asked again.

"You don't seem to understand what determines victory or defeat on the battlefield," he said.

"you......"

The armored vehicles drew closer in the morning light, and the riders all let out chilling war cries, coalescing into a frenzied roar. Cesar motioned for her to retreat behind him.

"You will soon understand," he said. "Some things are not as easy to understand as they seem, Your Highness."

In the next few breaths, what happened here was very puzzling. Cesar did not rush to raise his sword, but instead picked up the horn and took a long breath. In an instant, the horn sounded from the center of the command post to most of the battlefield.

The soldiers who had witnessed the previous spell paused for a moment, and many of them turned their gazes involuntarily. Some soldiers farther away even jumped, wanting to see clearly what else could blow the horn of the command post after the fire swept through it.

A second blast blared even more forcefully, setting her head buzzing—certainly not the breath of a human. The horses in the front row were startled for a moment, and Cesar leaped to his feet, bounding toward the narrow entrance to the pass. He dropped from midair like a plummeting black rock. His iron boots crushed the leading rider, first crushing his skull with the force of his fall, then continuing down to crush his body, severing the horses in half and trampling the bodies of both rider and rider into the mud.

The horror of this scene is hard to describe. The remains of the corpses were scattered everywhere under the impact, and the broken gun shields, broken bones and mutilated bodies were splashed into the air, forming a large area of ​​filthy blood rain.

Diana felt that he could hardly be called a human being now, but flesh and blood parasitized in a living armor.

The startled cavalrymen on either side shouted and thrust their lances, but Cesar lowered his sword, crouched, and leaped forward like a leaping beast, facing the lances. He swept through a long line of cavalrymen, his animated longsword slashing in an arc over ten meters long, and then his severed body, accompanied by a splatter of blood, slid down the slope and tumbled down the cliff.

His movements and postures were strange, like both a beast and a human. At the end of his leap, he grabbed a rider by the head and stomped on the rider's body, slamming it to the ground. When he released his grip, the rider's helmet had sunk in along the claw marks of his gauntlet, squeezing out a large amount of goo mixed with blood and brain matter.

At that moment, the heavy artillery in the rear roared again, a terrifying bombardment sweeping from the gentle slopes below the pass all the way to the ancient road below. A closer look revealed that the artillery had recovered grenades from the smuggling troops' cargo. A vast expanse of cavalry was swept through, shattered like glass. The front ranks practically exploded, scattering burnt fragments everywhere. The pressure on the front eased slightly, and suddenly, multiple trumpets echoed loudly around the command post. The light cavalry sent by the Duke were shouting and moving in all directions through the smoke that obscured the view.

The horns blew again, echoing back to the troops surrounding the pass. The soldiers blocking the mountain pass thrust their spears at the charred armor, emitting a mixture of determination and terror. But the figure didn't care. He leaped into the center of the crowd, his arms rising and falling, swinging his sword in a vast arc. The sound from his throat was like a demonic howl. The man was almost on the verge of collapse, but the armor restrained him, forcing him to maintain his human form. Despite this, he could still move freely through the crowd like a demon, crushing bodies like dead branches, throwing blood and limbs into the air, leaving a trail of torn bodies and flying debris everywhere.

And he is undoubtedly a non-human creature covered in human skin. Now perhaps he can't even be called human skin, he is just human-like.

Without warning, the cavalry on the slope retreated. The officer shouted orders, ordering them to retreat in a forced line. At that moment, Diana sensed the traces of the spell, converging into a bright dot in the distance. Though invisible to ordinary eyes, she could sense the strange sensation of reality being distorted.

Obviously, since the cavalry failed to break through the pass and the artillery caused losses beyond their tolerance, the commander there began to want to give up recovering the goods and instead asked the mages to destroy them directly.

Should she fight? The situation on the battlefield had indeed changed. She had been collecting military supplies for years... perhaps just waiting for this moment?

Diana had barely paused to ponder when Cesar leapt back from the slope to her side. A corpse, impaled on his sword, was convulsing, like a quail on a skewer. The figure, lost in the third dimension, could no longer discern a human form. He had likely noticed the mist swirling around the blade and leaped back without a care in the world, not caring what that mist was. "What you meant," he said pointedly, "is that you can use a teleportation spell with someone?"

She took a step back to avoid the filth and blood splashing on herself.

? ”

"How about taking me to that wizard?"

"Why would I do such a thing?" She frowned. He gave the order so naturally that she didn't want to help.

.

"There are many unidentified materials in that batch of military supplies. We can discuss their ownership further."

Diana's eyes widened. "What do you think you're doing favors with? They were originally mine!"

"Then the spoils of this ambush also belong to you."

"Really? But I don't think finding a mage will help. You still don't have enough manpower. Reinforcements are unlikely to arrive. Victory won't come by force alone."

"No, it will come," Cesar said. "If you see me and it doesn't surprise me, you should understand that there is more to it than that."

"What do you mean by more than that?" She raised her voice. "Are you trying to trick me with secrets?"

Chapter 129: Flame of Nothingness

"It's just an extra weight, Miss. When the time comes, its value will be revealed." Cesar said.

......

Cesar lowered himself, even kneeling on one knee, then, as she had requested, allowed her shimmering fingers to touch his forehead. She wasn't petite, but he was now too large. His flesh yearned to break free from the constraints of his form. Despite the armor he'd prepared to restrain him, the intensity of this desire was indescribable, expanding him and his armor to over three meters tall, his back arched like a wolf's.

If the eldest daughter of the Duke's family, who claimed to be a priest, hadn't infused him with ancient magic, bringing back a modicum of his sanity, he would have gone mad even if he had managed to maintain his form. His actions were like those of a wild beast, not because of the Tao, but because of the wolf. Her mind surrounded him like a mist, seeping into his soul and influencing his every move.

Firth said two souls would always clash, but this guy entered him unimpeded, like an ancient ballad filling the house, its notes echoing in every space. Was this because the wolf girl Ajeh herself was special, or because his soul carried the existence of another Ajeh? Cesar couldn't tell.

Cesar saw the mist before him glowing, a light invisible to the human eye. He also heard Diana chanting simultaneously from the plane of reality, the plane of will, and some other plane he could not yet comprehend. Human senses alone could only register the first part of the incantation. The three parts of the incantation she chanted had different meanings, yet they were linked together, gradually distorting the very fabric of reality as they reinforced each other.

It may not be appropriate for him to say this, but is it really possible for humans to think in multiple ways at the same time?

The barrier of reality suddenly ruptured. For a moment, Cesar felt as if the entire world had collapsed into a single point. There was no distinction between here and there, and naturally no reason to travel a long way to get from here to there. Instead, exploring the inner world from this point revealed a boundless space like the abyss.

Teleportation spell? Could this even be teleportation?

There is no distance in the world, so what is the reason for teleportation?

The landscape around him distorted. The world was like a canvas, painted with a variety of colors and contours, gradually eroding and dissolving, gradually reorganizing into another completely different scene. He first saw a cliff, a shadowy figure overlooking the battlefield, and then the cliff eroded and melted, turning into a shadowy clearing in the forest.

They arrived at their destination.

For a moment, the two paintings even overlapped, the figures there seemingly emerging from the twisted branches of the fallen trees. It wasn't simply a mere overlapping of images, but a genuine connection and fusion, invisible to the human eye. It seemed that if only a few variations on the teleportation spell were woven into another incantation, extending the horrors of another dimension into reality, they would be transported to a distant tree by the spell. Thus, linking man and beast, merging their flesh and blood, creating a half-human, half-beast monstrosity, seemed equally easy...

Cesar thought this thing would drive people crazy.

.......

He carefully concealed his presence, observing the command post in the center of the battlefield and the artillery positions further back. He noticed something inhuman there, and now there were traces of magic. He didn't want to risk his life, because there was no doubt that the one who left those traces wasn't a military mage—in other words, a substandard mage unworthy of being one. The appearance of a school mage would mean he was escalating the threat to the level of a school war.

His breath was more precious than anyone else's here. He was a child of truth, and he had accepted the Black Sword's offer to fund his academic research. Therefore, he had not come to the battlefield to fight for life or death. This was simply an errand, like sweeping up the trash, and he wouldn't pay more for it.

The cavalry commander was harping on him again. If the noble above him hadn't yet settled the remaining debt, why would he have endured his nonsense? He could have burned his insides to charcoal with a single word, shattered his skin, melted his armor and fused it to his flesh, leaving the charred filth all over the floor. But for the sake of the massive balance, he still had to endure his impatience and listen to his rants.

The enemy's manpower is getting smaller and smaller. Some people are still holding on with the support of artillery.

They held their positions, maneuvering around the still-standing flag of the command post, but the vast majority of Gonzales's militia had already ignored the loud calls of their officers and fell into an inevitable rout. Their front lines on both wings were rapidly evaporating, and soon the center line would also turn from resistance to retreat.

Become a slaughter waiting to be slaughtered.

Yet the cavalry commander was still asking him to dispose of the artillery position. Why? Did he care so much about the lives of his cavalrymen? The outcome of the battle was already decided, so what did it matter if the soldiers and pawns died insignificantly? That heavy artillery had been smuggled to Gonzales with great difficulty, and it was just a bunch of idiots riding four-legged beasts, worth less than a wheel.

Of course, the more important reason was that he didn't want to use war spells too many times in a short period of time. This would cause too much damage to his sanity, and he would need to meditate for a long time to recover from the madness of that moment.

He began chanting, his soul twisting as the two spells intertwined, reaching a vision not meant for humankind. Then, gradually ascending, he connected with the meaning that outlined the origin of the world. An unsubstantial flame emerged from the void, blazing with a fiery red light, swirling around his right hand with an eerie beauty. This flame possessed neither temperature nor heat, yet it needed neither to consume worldly objects.

He continued chanting, watching it twist wildly in his hands, like a bird flapping its wings in a net. As if sensing its profound difference from ordinary flames, or perhaps sensing its unholy nature, some soldiers stepped back. However, he didn't care; remaining in awe was their proper attitude.

The flames twisted more violently, and he frowned, wondering if his sanity was still damaged, unable to fully stabilize the spell. Then a flash of light appeared, as if someone had suddenly set down a brush, smearing a colorful line of paint on the canvas of the world. Two figures emerged from the paint, one tall and stooped, emitting a sinister aura, a perfect example of the most terrifying of school wars: the wizard and his demon.

Why would a worldly matter bring him such a disaster? Is this a bit too much?

Screams, roars, howls, heads falling, limbs flying, more than a dozen people fell in an instant, followed by more than a dozen more. He no longer cared about extending the fire to the artillery position in the center of the battlefield. He stretched out his right hand forward, and the purest red light swept across the woods in front of him like a ribbon, whipping the dead and living soldiers, igniting them one by one, turning them into towering pillars of fire that could not be extinguished even if they jumped into the water.

These people were like little bugs falling into a furnace. Screams and wails spread in all directions in an instant, but the demon that smelled of charcoal was still not dead.

He didn't want to ask Black Sword for the remaining balance. A confrontation of this magnitude had already seriously threatened his life. As for the financial and credit losses caused by the breach of contract... that would have to wait until he survived!

Chapter 130: The Special Friendship Between Young Mages

The rushing flames blocked everyone's view. He hoped that the enemy had not noticed him yet, at least giving him some time to prepare the teleportation spell.

Unlike before, this time, he had to concentrate all his energy on chanting the spell and could not react to the outside world, because no matter what form of teleportation spell he was using, he had to use a third spell between the two spells. This meant that in addition to the spells of body and mind, he had to go deep into the third vision, that is, the world of essence.

Further multi-consideration wasn't difficult; the challenge lay in the Third Horizon itself. Ultimately, his body and mind were his own. Regardless of how he cast the two spells, the damage he sustained was only in the brief moment of piercing reality, like inhaling a small puff of poisonous mist. The Third Horizon, however, was different. Entering it was like diving into a poisonous pool, sacrificing continued mental damage in exchange for a perception beyond the surface of things. Except for the chosen, who were screened by the spell before birth, no one dared to continually challenge their own mental endurance.

If he hadn't had to, he wouldn't want to...

A raging fire, sourceless, swept across the battlefield, transforming everything it touched into towering pillars of flame. Trees and grass burned, and charred meat wrapped in steel rolled everywhere. The greasy stench permeated the air, carried by the morning breeze toward the center of the battlefield, making people cover their mouths and noses and retch in their wake.

He watched as the demon chopped off the cavalry commander's head. Even though the man held a secret stone gifted by a great noble, preventing him from casting a curse in secret, the demon paused only for a moment before tearing the commander's head and body apart. The head was flung far away, but the demon stopped where it was, turning its empty, bloodshot eyes towards him and uttering a piercing roar.

The demon in living armor swung its sword, the blade carrying the commander's headless body slamming into the ground, stirring up a large amount of rubble and dust. They were still far away, and he didn't know what it was doing. Perhaps it was going crazy?

Many mages enslave demons by destroying their minds.

The armored demon first smashed the corpse, then lowered the blade behind him and swung it towards him, as if to demonstrate from a distance. He saw the long sword draw an arc and throw the corpse on the sword towards...

Only then did he realize his mistake - this demon was not an unintelligent beast, it was observing and utilizing everything it could in its environment.