Shadow of the Evil God

"I don't want to talk to that person, and you'd better not ask me why."

As Ajeh spoke, she placed her half-man, half-wolf face on his shoulder and bit down with her sharp fangs. Perhaps because he had been hurt enough, the pain had subsided. He hugged the guy who was biting his other shoulder tightly, and finally let out a barely audible moan.

He took a breath. "Why do you say that?"

"You're such a busybody, Cesar, but I'm just a forgotten thing. Forgetting and being forgotten are mutual. If others don't want to mention me, I don't want to mention anyone either. Besides, given our current situation, does it make any difference who I am or whether I have a past?"

"If you leave me because of a past I don't know about, and no longer accompany me to the battlefield, I will be sad."

"Really? Then you can find a way to eat me and digest my personality, thoughts, memories, everything. That way you won't have to rely on something unstable and with no knowledge of its past."

"If I had that idea, I wouldn't have put so much money in Neuen.

The deceased's memory and thoughts were lost, and at that time..."

Cesar said as he looked in the direction of Noien. Although he could not see anything, he suddenly realized that he had indeed forgotten something in Noien.

Ajeh looked him over and said, "There's a huge difference between saying nice things and doing what needs to be done. Aren't you going to continue? Even I remember it better than you do."

"There are so many regrettable things in this world. If that person hadn't confronted me, I probably wouldn't have had the thought or opportunity to return."

"Even though you don't remember anything, you still give that person a meaning for life and a goal to pursue. Do you really think this is not worth mentioning?"

"You sound relatable, Ajeh. Am I to assume you went through something similar many years ago?"

"Your idea is really interesting," she said.

Cesar was about to say something, but then he turned and saw Ajeh vanish, vanishing like a mist. She certainly looked like a mist now. Aside from the slowly healing cyan lines on his body, there was no trace of her presence.

The sparse moonlight filtered through the leaves, and the blood oozing from his shoulder wound shimmered in the moonlight, resembling a twisted work of art. Then, the dog opened its mouth and licked the last bite on his shoulder, covering the remaining stinging sensation with the itch of licking. Her golden eyelashes matted together, and her blood-red eyes remained indifferent to everything. Because no one was disturbing her anymore, she looked even more content.

"What do you think?" Cesar began to ask the Faceless Man difficult questions.

To his surprise, she actually assumed a pensive posture, but she remained silent for over ten minutes, and he didn't hear a single word come out of her thoughts. She sat quietly under the tree, dressed in the dead man's clothes, gazing at the full moon in the night sky like an owl, lost in a trance that no human could comprehend. It would have been fine if this guy hadn't moved, but he'd also clutched at his clothes, refusing to let him go.

After waiting for more than half an hour, the dog finally said: "She looks like she thinks of you as her father, Master."

For a moment, Cesar was speechless. After his mind turned countless corners, he replied: "This idea is really interesting, more interesting than all the conversations I had with her all night."

He shook his head to dispel the thought, discarded his bloodstained clothing, and strolled down the stream. Just as he'd submerged himself waist-deep in the water, Gouzi leaned over and, without removing her clothes, sat in his arms, soaking him to the skin. The full, soft shape of her snow-white breasts, unobscured by the shirt, became increasingly prominent, now appearing and disappearing against the moonlight and the water.

Cesare wanted to talk to her again about Melici and the aristocratic faction, but she just sat there with her hands clasped in her lap, her face vaguely flushed for no reason other than him, and for a moment he was unable to speak.

As soon as he had this thought, she leaned back and said, "If you hold me tighter, I'll tell you everything about them, like a story, Master. You just need to listen. You don't need to confirm or ask even a single question, but you must hold me very tight."

"We could stay here all night until you're done," Cesar said.

"Then I'll start with Vermeer..."

Cesar listened, holding her waist tightly as she began to recount the story of the nobles' pact with Vermeer. He reached into her soaked shirt with his other hand, grasping her breast, which was just big enough to fit in his hand, and kneaded it as he listened to the story. Her breath gradually grew warm, her face flushed, and her slippery nipples swelled in his grip, rising above the soaked shirt, their flexible beads clearly visible, yet it didn't seem to affect the tone of her recounting.

"In fact," she said slowly, "many years ago, Æfred IV, Urbino, Vermeer, and several young nobles joined a youth political group and signed an oath to limit power. They were young at the time, and Æfred IV had no claim to the throne. They all felt it was a sacred oath."

Cesar listened to her, pulling open her shirt and kissing her shoulder, but at this point, many thoughts raced through his mind. "You mean Evered IV signed this oath himself?"

"He is the nephew of the late King Olidan. After the original heirs died in the civil war, he and the current queen became the only other successors. The nobles supported him as king because of the oath they signed in their youth, but after that, he did not fulfill his promise."

"I know why they call Evered IV the traitor," Cesar said, gently kissing her red lips that were slightly parted, inviting him to kiss them. "Go on, tell me about their youth... Let me think about how to deal with these people."

Chapter 137: The Beastmen Horde

......

Seshia stood on the top of the bastion wall, holding the telescope in her hand, observing the Imperial Avenue across the rolling hills.

The dust cloud at the end. When the dust settled, the city wall fell into silence.

Which was worse than encountering the ancient white demon in the mines? She couldn't say.

The howling sound even reached her ears from far away, without any

No magic, just the howling of wild beasts. She had encountered many beastmen on the battlefield before, but they were small groups, never on this scale, with the feeling of earth-shaking thunder. She didn't know why a force of beastmen comparable to a regular army was sweeping south, but the fact was that they had crossed the border between the north and south of the empire without hindrance and were heading straight for the southern kingdoms.

After she returned to the northern border, Garcia no longer withheld their salaries, and his instructions to them were to assist the regular army in guarding the various border fortresses, not to mention stopping small groups of beastmen, but at least to block the large groups rushing along the highway.

The empire, which has been ravaged by war for years, is on guard against these evil creatures, but in the South, beastmen are almost a distant folk legend. If they are really allowed to spread in the southern countries or even migrate there, the stable situation of the entire Southern Confederacy will be in turmoil.

Seshia saw a large number of people carrying grenades heading for the turret atop the bastion. She peered through her telescope again and spotted armed slaves carrying sedan chairs toward the tower. It looked like the nobles had invited a distinguished school of mages. Just as rumored, these people refused to touch the ground and even discriminated against horses, relying on their trained city-state slaves for transportation.

She frowned as she watched, wondering how much money Dominic would have to spend after all this time, and how much salary would be left to pay these mercenaries after the incident was over.

But where did such a large number of beastmen come from? There was no other possible source other than the wastelands further north of the Kasar Empire. Were they deliberately released southward by the northern empire? Even if that were the case, the Kasar Empire was so vast, so why would they flock to the southern kingdoms?

There are too many unknown things. As a mercenary, Ceshia can only work here for money without saying a word.

The city defense artillery had an obvious effect, but it was unable to stop these crazy beasts from rushing towards the city walls. The spiral road outside the city was also filled with them one after another. From this point of view, it looked like a swarm of ants pouring out of their nest.

The Imperials said that Beastmen, such deformed monsters, were forever consumed by madness and naturally fearless of death. They held no hatred for humans, but merely a source of nourishment, and hunting for fresh food was a means of quelling their inner madness. This was perhaps true; any species with a fearful heart, even blind and ignorant animals, would not charge forward like this under heavy artillery fire.

The first vanguard emerged from the moat, looking like a nightmare emerging from the deep sea. They barely resembled human form, but their bodies were hunched and covered in filthy animal hair. Their cheeks were jagged and protruding, and an indefinite number of murky eyes were randomly embedded in their foreheads and temples, some even growing on long, curved horns. Their long, filthy tongues curled up in their mouths, sometimes vertical and sometimes tilted, extending as far as a human forearm as they howled.

The weapons and armor of the beastmen were quite conspicuous. Leather shields were nailed with peeled human faces, stretched and deformed with multiple animal tendons, twisting into ferocious expressions; the ends of huge sticks were embedded with human and animal teeth soaked in blood, and at first glance they looked like they were inlaid with spikes; the rough iron armor on their bodies was covered with painted human skin, which reminded people of the animal skin armor of mercenaries and hunters; there were also skinned human bodies with limbs cut off, they were impaled on long wooden sticks as battle flags, the tip of the stick pierced from the lower body, and then came out from the open mouth, with an expression full of horror.

Wherever Seshia looked, he saw things with extremely strong symbolic meanings. These features seemed to indicate that after being enslaved by the Kasar Empire for such a long time, they had indeed developed some attitudes that could be called hatred.

The beastmen's vanguard suffered heavy casualties, but their numbers were as numerous as locusts, trampling over the corpses of their comrades as they surged forward, their war cries unceasing. Compared to human war cries, theirs seemed to convey endless fury and madness, like an incomprehensible storm that resounded throughout the fortress.

She turned to General Garcia, who was not far away. He was still wearing his flawless uniform, but he was sweating profusely and seemed to be observing and thinking about the changes in the situation on the battlefield.

He looks anxious, does that mean there will be a change in the defensive form today?

She smelled blood. An overwhelmingly rich stench permeated the city walls, as if an ancient vault held countless corpses, fermenting for centuries until an intruder pushed open the door, releasing a tangible stench. Suddenly, there was a commotion near the city gates. Something with the stench of decay, mingled with the Beastmen vanguard crossing the river, suddenly emerged from the riverbank.

The bloated beasts climbed onto the riverbank, looking down from this spot like giant maggots crawling out of a swamp. Their wriggling bodies were covered in short, sturdy arms, flailing tentacles, and lopsided, gaping mouths; they could hardly be described as creatures of nature.

Their heads resembled inverted cylinders, their fronts covered in a massive, black, circular visor as large as a millstone. The outer ring was covered in spikes, while the inner ring was inlaid with crooked bars. The gaps between the visor bars offered no organs that could be called eyes; only a massive mouth, spewing bloody mist, slowly opened toward the city gate.

Large streams of blood gathered into a torrent and gushed out from their huge mouths. In just a blink of an eye,

It smashed into the iron gate with a mighty force. The sound was like countless dead souls screaming in her ears, mixed with the painful sound of steel twisting and crushing.

Ya was almost frightened. The defenders on both sides of the bastion shouted loudly for the heavy artillery to turn around and fire, but the gates had already been opened.

The iron gate smashed into the roadblock behind the city gate like a hurled boulder, sweeping through a series of soldiers waiting to guard the city gate, crushing them to pieces, leaving only broken limbs and internal organs on the ground.

Then, Seshia heard the incantation. She saw the wizard in the sedan chair extend his arm, and the moat instantly ignited completely, as if a natural flow of water had instantly transformed into an unnatural pool of tar, transforming into an inhuman inferno. Scorching flames rose from the surface to over ten meters high, distorting the air before piercing down to the riverbed, devouring any beasts that crossed. The bloated, maggot-like creatures struggled in vain, and soon, only a pile of charred ash and ashes remained, burying a vast mass of black masks that seemed to be imbued with an undying fire.

Mercenaries, Kingdom soldiers, and Empire natives worked together to block the city gates, halting the Beastmen vanguard charging into the city. But a single volley of musket fire turned both sides into a chaotic mess, with howling and roaring merging into a cacophony. She could barely discern the line between friend and foe; it was pure chaos.

Through her telescope, Seshia saw something flying in the distant sky. But after the moat turned into a pool of tar, it stopped soaring and quickly vanished. She didn't know what was in the sky over there, but if their defense went wrong, they would have to deal with threats beyond just those on the ground.

Chapter 138 I'm Just a Rotten Meat

Yes, they had held out today, and the defense personnel on the city walls hadn't even been used. Perhaps she should be happy about this, but what about the other fortresses in the southern countries?

Beastmen could try again and again, even avoiding relatively heavily guarded fortresses, until they found a location with the weakest defenses. Even now, Seshia didn't know their exact number. She only knew that each beastman group that attacked a city looked different from the one that attacked it the previous time.

Perhaps if they could hold out for a while longer, no more beastmen would flock to the fortress. But on the other hand, there was more than one fortress in the borderlands. If they found and conquered any of them, these frenzied beasts would gradually spread across the southern kingdoms, transforming from terrifying foreign folk tales into a real and visible threat.

Perhaps this cannot be called a military attack, but rather that the beasts are migrating and their fortress just happens to be blocking the herd's path.

As for where their migration ends, who knows? Seshia only knows that nothing like this has happened in the past thousand years.

......

He wiped his tear-stained eyes with trembling paws, stumbling as he walked. Not only was he now a dog with a strangely human face, but he had never been a dog. In his past, he had not only been human but also a promising wizard. From birth until now, he had never suffered such pain.

Relying on his memory of the spells, he tried his best to escape, frantically searching for an opportunity, but he only found despair. His call for help had become a trap, and the compatriots who were supposed to save him had become desperate lunatics, their days filled with nothing but curses at his shamelessness and this mad world.

But what could he do? He had no idea there were shamans in this tribe of beastmen. But why didn't they go to the northern wilderness to fight the Kasar Empire? Instead, they came all the way south to the border of Olidan and cursed him, a hapless wizard who failed to teleport, with a wild dog?

As he reached the door, chained to his iron chain, he was nearly driven back by the burning sensation. It was already a burned-out ruin, filled with the stench of charred corpses. Now, the fire had been burning for almost a week, to torture his fellow man, who was not only exceptionally determined but had also protected his soul.

The most conspicuous figure in the darkness was the envoy, naked, his skin pale and hairless, suspended upside down from the ceiling, slowly swinging like a curious pendulum. His scalp had been peeled off, his skull half removed, and the grooves of his exposed brain were filled with rose-red, twisted thorns, extending from his brain to the thorn staff in the hands of a shaman - they had grown from it.

Every time the shaman tapped the scepter, the grooves in the envoy's brain would twist and wriggle, forcing him to make all kinds of puppet-like expressions and gestures.

By now, the envoy had confessed everything, both important and unimportant, except for the secrets of the school the shaman had hoped he would reveal. His true knowledge was sealed within the soul, and no matter how his mind was manipulated, he could only act like a puppet of the material world. The envoy would reveal every shameful and unspeakable secret from childhood, and commit any blasphemous or despicable act. However, as soon as the other chains placed on him by the school were brought to bear, he would quickly fall silent, his face expressionless, and he would become speechless.

The beastman shaman turned toward him. He couldn't see its face through the black mask that twisted like a treetop, but he could see its muscled, knotted upper body and glimpse the dark hollows beneath half its battledress—the thing was legless, floating in mid-air like a dead spirit.

"Don't sit there, carrion." It said in a deep, low voice.

The voice said, "Come and talk to your good brother."

Yes, although he is reluctant to admit it, he has been stripped of his name, and his only name now is rotten meat.

The moment the dog was placed before him, he was no longer the human wizard he once was, but a vicious little creature they had domesticated. Why didn't it just call him "dog"? At least it would sound more pleasant.

Carrion grunted as he stood up, straightening his back and trying to suppress the instinctive urge to stick out his tongue to dissipate heat. "I'm just a... worthless mage. This envoy and I are hardly brothers," he grumbled.

He didn't really want to get closer, because if he did, he'd inevitably pass by that mass of humanity, stuck together like melted candles. He didn't know what the beastman shaman intended, but the unholy quality of that chaotic mass of humanity was too much for him to bear. This unholy quality stemmed not only from its utterly deformed appearance, with faces, heads, limbs, and bodies stretching, splitting, and merging like mycelium, but also from the fact that it had become a malignant distortion of the material world. To stand beside it was to pour filth into the pure spring of one's soul.

He was just rotten meat, his soul no match for an emissary. These mages were born for espionage, assassination, and stealth, their training heavily tied to counterspells. If he were tortured here, he'd already emptied his mind of what little knowledge he had.

"It's your brother who wants to talk to you, Carrion." The shaman's voice became deeper and deeper.

"I don't know what we have to talk about anymore," Carrion said. "I've talked to him a lot, but all I hear is spitting and cursing."

The envoy's eyes suddenly widened, their blue irises gleaming in the darkness, and the curved scars from the branding irons on his body began to twist. "This Beastman shaman said you saw the shadow of their ancestors, and that you told them the Firstborn were in Olidan. It hasn't even asked you where Olidan is or what the situation is like now, and you're already telling it that it's a place with rotten border defenses, easily breached fortresses, and its entire human population busy fighting among themselves."

"I'm just stating the facts," said Rotten Meat. "Why are you harping on this and blaming me alone?"

"Your soul is shrouded in resentment that doesn't belong to you." The envoy stared at him. "You didn't choose to do that."

The Beastman Shaman laughed, a deep and melodious laugh. He said, "All creatures in this world are children of the True God, but most are deceived. You mages are closer to the True God than any of your fellow mages. Don't you understand that liberating your emotions and thoughts is the path to advancement? He spoke voluntarily, not under duress."

"He should resent you first!" the envoy roared.

"I have never denied it." The shaman nodded slightly. "However, the order of things is not fixed. If he follows a more appropriate sequence, he will be more likely to achieve his desire. First, devour the nobles of Olidan, then devour the Black Sword mercenaries who lured him into a trap. Eliminate all those who hinder his life in order. When my turn comes, he will have a slight advantage over me because of the sacrifices he has made along the way. I don't doubt that this is his only way to tear me apart, but the cycle of life is inherent in this."

"A beastman actually talked to me about the existence and value of life..."

"I long for the time when our wisdom was still unclouded," the shaman replied, sharpening his fangs beneath his black mask. "Staying in this filthy material world is like wandering in a poisonous fog that damages the mind. However, the voice of the true God has already manifested itself in the south, and the wise chosen ones have awakened one after another, leading their communities on their migrations. When we find the place of revelation, you will naturally know who the ignorant beasts are. Can some slaves who sacrificed themselves to pick up on the gossip of the Kuna still consider themselves children of truth? You are unwilling to even accept the madness brought by truth."

Chapter 139: Murder at the Banquet

"I've had enough of your incessant preaching."

The beastman shaman paid no attention, combing the fur from his paws with his thorn staff. "Every species tells the world differently," he said, "but you seem unable to grasp this. I mean no insult, but I see in you that even if self-important slaves try to understand their masters' arguments, all they hear is how many fewer lashes they'll receive tomorrow. Something is happening that worries you, isn't it?"

The envoy's voice was almost like a beast's roar. "Some schools that only care about profit are secretly smuggling contraband with the followers of Anarik, but the academy will find them sooner or later. Both you and them are just remnants of the old world..."

"You can't see the changes in the world, not because of any innate defects, but because you are only willing to accept things that can prove your nobility."

The shaman's voice, deep and drawn out, accuses him, its words and phrases seeming to say that it is not condemning but merely expressing regret for the blindness and ignorance.

"The true God will remove the illusions of the world and make everything no longer bound by order," its voice became like a chant, "whether you or we, whether ignorant or blind, can accept those extraordinary gifts - the weak accept its power, the meek accept its pride, the poor in spirit accept its

All shackles will end here, but you are still praising your own race, and continuing to tame slaves after you have changed from slaves to masters.

I am reluctant to give up the old habits...”

There was only silence in answer to it, neither the envoy nor the carrion dared to utter a word.

"How pathetic! You actually think we're from the Old World. The Kuna people of the Old World enslaved you, and now you're enslaving your own people. Who is more like the Old World?"

The Beastman shaman waved his staff as he spoke. As the exposed brain in the envoy's skull stirred, he struck poses resembling primitive tribal dances. However, his soul had completely shut down, no longer responding. The envoy's face only smiled, his muscles flexing in a joyful expression, but his inner being remained indifferent. His eyes were emotionless, watching his body react like a puppet on a string.

Carrion knew that the Beastmen would get no answers from the envoy.

"Eat him, carrion," the shaman commanded. "Make your brother a part of you, inherit his soul and flesh, and you will become whole together. You know, you can make everyone you have hurt a part of you."

......

Vermir passed through the archway of the Governor's Palace and into the long corridor, stepping across the stone pavement bathed in dappled sunlight, leaving streaks of dusty light in his wake. The morning light was solemn and silent, and the fortress was devoid of bird song, adding to the austerity. Two suits of ornamental armor stood at the end of the corridor, their spears clutched, flanking the wooden door, as if they had foreseen what was to come in the coming days.

Now that we've lost on the battlefield, it's time to take action at the dinner party.

Vermeer pushed the door open and approached the conference room. He locked eyes with the man leaning back in his chair for a long moment before turning and closing the door. General Mahik's complexion wasn't great. His mustache was unkempt, and his eyes looked sleepy, clearly having gotten little rest.

This smuggled shipment of vital military supplies had, through bizarre means, fallen into the wrong hands. A young, foreign noble, accompanied by a band of lesser nobles, capable of more harm than good, had slipped through their heavily guarded stronghold and seized all the vital supplies. Furthermore, they had set up positions on the spot, using their grenades and heavy artillery to inflict heavy casualties on the cavalry that had rushed in to encircle them, forcing them to flee in disarray.

Mashik had been waiting for them for almost a year, but ended up receiving such news. It was easy for him to be so angry that he couldn't sleep at night.

The general shook his head at Vermeer. "Governor Vermeer," he said, "I understand you have prepared a letter to send to King Evered IV expressing your deepest regret for this young man's rashness, impulsiveness, and unfortunate death in a foreign land. Is that true?"

"I haven't sent the letter yet, but we still have a chance to send it."

Mahik scoffed. "You had to wait until the soldiers we were about to confront the royal family suffered casualties before you remembered you had a way to kill people at a banquet? How did you expect them to attack the artillery positions without artillery?"

"Until the dust settled, no one could have imagined he'd split his forces into so many groups and penetrate so many defense gaps," Vermeer explained. "The countermeasures we planned in advance were so interconnected. Unless something went wrong at every stage, there was no way he'd come back alive."

"The result was problems at every stage," Mahik said, seemingly trying to maintain his composure. "If you hadn't solemnly instructed the outposts to avoid alerting the enemy, he wouldn't have been able to successfully assemble all his forces through the most heavily guarded area. If you hadn't said this wouldn't affect freight routes, the smuggling team, carrying artillery and a large amount of ammunition, would have delayed their march. If you hadn't said his army was isolated and without support, the cavalry wouldn't have abandoned their artillery and launched a long assault. As a result, the southern part was completely captured by the reinforcements."

"We did everything we could, and without a doubt, we fulfilled our responsibilities." Vermeer said with a wry smile, "Don't brag about it afterwards. Even if you had done this, the outcome wouldn't have been any different. Now we've decided to solve the source of all this trouble. If you still want to get those supplies back, you'd better do your part, Mashik."

"Ubino has been keeping an eye on Gonzales. Once this happens in the fortress, the uprising will have to be brought forward." Mashik said in a gloomy voice.