Shadow of the Evil God

Not long after, Governor Vermeer sat solemnly at the other end of the long banquet table. He didn't carry a sword, apparently unwilling to dirty his hands. However, there was an intriguing knight guarding the entrance, and Cesar couldn't help but take a few more glances.

Two heavily armored knights guarding the entrance to a fortress like this weren't unusual, but one of them was no ordinary man. He could vaguely sense something enormous looming behind him, somewhere in what mages call the third horizon, imperceptible to human senses alone. Besides the knight, whose face was hidden by a silver visor, there was another guest who was equally peculiar. He leaned back in his chair, casually holding his wine glass, observing them. However, his focus wasn't on Cesar, but on the Faceless Man, who was drinking relentlessly as if it were water.

"My friend Ossos said your family has a record of buying and selling slaves from the Empire," Vermeer suddenly said, his tone casual, as if questioning a dishonest servant. "One of the shipments involved a slave-hunting team that secretly captured exiled nobles." He raised his head from his wine glass and glanced at Cesar. "This slave-hunting team has been hanging from the ancient trees at the border for over two years, but they haven't been able to find the poor people who were sold further south."

The visitor, Osos, still hadn't taken his eyes off them. He was clearly still observing the dog, not sure if he was observing her slightly unusual behavior or her features. Perhaps it was both, Cesar thought. Her blond hair was truly extraordinary, the tips like honey in the sun, the roots a faint reddish hue. He held it in his hands, admiring and handling it like a work of art.

He had been in the southern kingdoms for so long, but he had never seen anyone with features similar to hers.

Cesar still remembered that when this guy woke him, her image was actually a mixture of two people. One was the last girl he knew in his previous life, and the other he had never met, only knowing that she was a beautiful slave purchased by the old count, rumored to be an exiled noble from the empire. If an ordinary person bought such an exiled noble from a slave trader, they would at least let her survive and wait for an opportunity to escape. But after handing her over to the old count, she would only become a breeding ground for evil monsters and ultimately died tragically on the altar.

Cesar had indeed never paid attention to the woman's background, and even forgot that she had a family background.

Gouzi looked up at him, her gaze asking if he needed her to impersonate someone already dead. Cesar exchanged a glance, his hands busy, downing a large glass of red wine before tearing the skin off his upper lip with his teeth. He lowered his head to kiss her, while she clung to his neck and licked his lips, which tasted of blood and wine, a blush growing on her cheeks. This answer was more than enough; he didn't need the dead to continue their life and existence in her; he only needed this very existence, which relished the scent of blood.

He combed her blond hair with his fingers and looked at Mr. Osos, who looked unhappy.

He didn't look like a Frank, but the ethnic groups in the Kasar Empire were mixed, so he couldn't tell which tribe he belonged to. This visitor from the empire wore a slim military uniform like Artinya.

, that is, a black tunic decorated with gold thread, with the iconic imperial emblem, and his short blond hair really makes people feel that he looks like a dog.

The Kasar Empire is now divided into so many parts, it is not surprising that members of any part appear in the southern countries.

This wasn't the most important thing. The important thing was that whenever Cesar closed his eyes, he would see bloody corpses hanging on the walls and a sea of ​​corpses and filth flowing on the ground. He wanted to tear these people apart for no reason, not even because of who they were. It was just because he had a stress reaction, just like a person kicking their legs after being hit on the knee.

Making some insignificant provocations at this time can divert his attention and make him feel that there are some human beings with emotions sitting at the table.

"She was a very cultured and knowledgeable lady, who had made great contributions to history and poetry and was admired by many people. Moreover, she also liked to study and use muskets." Vermeer continued, staring at Cesar as if he was interrogating a prisoner in a cage.

Cesar took another big gulp of wine. This time, Gouzi leaned in his arms, poured him the wine, and handed it to him to drink as if no one was around.

To be honest, he had no habit of keeping servants. Aside from the complicated calculations he had to hand over to the Faceless Ones, he took care of all the chores in his life himself. However, accepting her service in front of someone who clearly cared about her was a very interesting feeling, making this boring drama not so boring anymore.

"I call her Dog," Cesar said. "From the moment I start calling her that, the past no longer has any meaning."

The implication in these words made Vermeer's guest from the empire's face change suddenly. Considering the different meanings of the name "dog" in different cultural environments, perhaps he was conveying a hint - in the countryside of his previous life, this was a common name for little girls, but for a young scholar who unfortunately disappeared, it meant the destruction and domestication of personal dignity.

Should he explain? But how could he explain it? Accepting this guy's existence meant taking on all the sins she had caused and hiding her identity. He couldn't defend himself, and he couldn't.

Besides, since everyone at the table thought he was dead, why did he need to defend himself?

Vermeer knocked on the table, as if reminding Ossos to maintain his composure. "Did you know that before the Kasar Empire crossed the ocean, they had another history?"

"I know, Republic, Parliament, right?"

The Governor looked at him expressionlessly. "As the Kasar Empire crumbled, some began to seek out ancient traditions and derived better theories from them," he said. "This is a piece of court history rarely heard in the southern kingdoms. Can you tell me how you learned this?"

"I don't understand." Cesar put on a lazy attitude unique to a dandy aristocrat, and while saying this, he bit off a piece of the apple handed to him by Gouzi and bit it all the way to her white and lovely fingertips. "Is there anything I can't know?" he asked in return.

"I'm curious...why do you not care about this history?"

Cesar smiled. "I actually care about it, but it's a pity that the people who tell this story don't care about it," he said, even though he knew that the other party's understanding of it was completely different from what he meant. He kneaded the dog's cheek, as if teasing his pet. "Do you think she cares, Governor?" He swore he was talking about Altinya, but he might have been misleading them, making them think he was talking about the guy in his arms.

Chapter 148 She can only be called a girl

It must be admitted that he had idealism, but it was not excessive. The shift from feudal rule to aristocratic parliament was indeed a social change, in line with the current historical process. However, to him, this change was just that, and it would be better to rely on the conservative forces that needed him more. If he could push Artinia to the throne during the War of Succession and seize power himself, then he would be willing to discuss more effective solutions.

"I don't understand why you can say such a thing." Mr. Ossos from the Empire suddenly spoke.

"You truly don't understand," Cesar replied. "In a short while, I will be able to put down Gonzales' rebellion. Trade with the Sassulai has already begun, and Olidan's economic situation will improve, and all situations will gradually stabilize. As the intermediary between the two tribes and the hero who quelled the rebellion, once this is over, I can take my reward and live a carefree life, no longer concerned with worldly affairs."

"You think this is Olldan's predicament?" Ossos pressed forward.

Cesar put his arm around Gouzi's waist, sighed, and drank the wine she offered him. "Olidan's predicament?" He spread out his other hand. "I don't understand this. I only know that I should be remembered, have my own fiefdom, and become as noble as the Grand Duke of Urbino. And then, my child with her will be born in the manor. What's wrong with that?"

"You won such a victory, and you want something like this?" Ossos asked again.

"Why not?" he asked, "After this is over, I can take her to travel around the world, visit the tribes of the Sassulai people, and

The archipelago off the coast, maybe we can even hire a wizard who can dive into the deep sea and see all the ruins of the Kasar Empire on their old continent."

"You are very realistic." Vermeer said before Osos asked again, "Now I know

You're not interested in this kind of talk anymore. I want to talk to you about the war."

"What happened to that battle?" Cesar said indifferently.

"I want to know how you can stop the heavy cavalry charge... those artillery pieces are not enough." Vermir stared at him and took a bite of chicken.

"You're too wedded to tradition to see the true priorities," Cesar said with a gentle smile. "What's needed in this era isn't firearms working in conjunction with your elite soldiers, but soldiers working in conjunction with firearms. All changes in tactics and formations must be adjusted around this."

"Depending on you?" Vermeer questioned, "How long have you lived?"

"Maybe it was divine revelation." He babbled nonsensically, "I've worshipped the god of war Helgast. He told me that I should consider how to deal with a heavy cavalry charge, and that I should attack a smuggling force to replenish my missing weapons. Most importantly, he told me that I should be prepared to deal with traitors..." At this point, he looked at Vermir and winked at the Governor.

The two who died on the battlefield were both Vermeer's confidants and retainers.

"Thanks to my prior preparations, I caught the hateful rebels red-handed," Cesar said in the tone of an after-dinner chat. "My men chopped them up and fed them to the dogs..." At this point, he looked out the window with a nostalgic gesture. "Afterwards, I got a book called 'The Origin of the State and Political Power.' It's very interesting to read. If I hadn't just given it to a beautiful young woman, I would definitely show it to you, Your Excellency the Governor."

Ossos, who came from the Empire, looked a little pale, and Fermir frowned as if he could pinch a fly to death. The few young nobles present, who were mostly his followers, laughed dryly a few times and did not dare to interrupt.

"By the way," Cesar said briskly, playing with the dog's soft golden hair between his fingers, "I'm not talking about the guy on my lap. After all, she can only be called a girl."

Everyone present fell silent, except him, who was still taking small nibbles of the dessert she handed him, and then kissed the tip of her index finger which was soaked in the sweetness and wine.

Finally, it was Vermeer who spoke again: "Where are the soldiers you captured?"

Cesar ate his dessert first, then shook his head and said, "We captured hundreds of prisoners, most of whom were sent to the Dominican military camp in exchange for providing medical care and shelter to our army. I can't guarantee the fate of the prisoners, but I personally hope that the Dominicans won't hang them from some old tree for smuggling contraband."

"So, you have reached an agreement with Domini's army?" Governor Gonzalez asked again.

"Of course, Dominic will cooperate with our army to put down Gonzales' rebellion, and I will also help them find the smugglers hiding in the mountains. If these people still want to survive, they should surrender as soon as possible."

"You were indeed seen walking with officers from Dominion," Vermeer said.

Cesar thought Altinya was more than just a Dominican officer. "This is a demonstration of friendship between our two countries," he said lightly. "Whatever the past grudges, Dominican and Olidan are two kingdoms in the same confederation. If one is in trouble, the other will send troops to its aid."

Vermeer actually laughed. "As expected of Count Thane's son, your father requested Urbino's military deployment, and your son established connections with the nobles of Gonzales and Domini. I completely agree with your approach, but have you ever considered the relationship between your Noien and Domini royal families?"

"I know that very well," Cesar nodded. "But from what happened to Olidan, I've discovered that Dominion isn't a monolithic entity either."

"Well said," the Governor applauded. "So what's the situation with Ollandan, Cesar?"

"The rebels are gathering and roaming freely in the rugged forests and valleys, aided by unknown forces and supported by a large influx of funds to support their arms smuggling. If their supply routes are cut off, and then the nearby farms are taken away, all their food supplies are confiscated, and the farmers are driven away or conscripted into the army, they will naturally collapse and flee the forests."

"Does it require such a big show?"

"I'm ready to do it. You don't need to ask, Your Excellency the Governor. We expect our army to be replenished by the end of the month. There will be more personnel accompanying the troops to provide more complete logistical supplies. The large number of muskets we just captured can also be handed over to the farmers. After all, muskets don't require long training, right? As long as they can fire forward on the battlefield, that's enough."

"This will affect Gonzales' autumn harvest!" Vermeer exclaimed.

"Autumn harvest?" Cesar shrugged. "Given Gonzales's current situation, you're still talking to me about the autumn harvest? How can the little grain you've collected be more important than suppressing the rebellion? Honestly, if I'm willing to pay them to survive this difficult year, every farmer in Gonzales will bring their families to join me. You won't be able to stop them."

Chapter 149: Reforging the Body Deep in the Fire

Vermeer looked expressionlessly at Cesar's mouth, which was chewing non-stop after he finished speaking, as if he was accumulating the power of his words. When Governor Gonzales opened his mouth, before he could utter the first word, Cesar continued, "Wait until I am calm."

If you put down Gonzales's rebellion, I will write a sentence in my letter saying that you also had a contribution to make, Your Excellency the Governor."

"My credit?"

He found that the knight guarding the gate was already standing inside the gate, and the person who was suspected to be the noble mistress was rubbing her sharp nails.

There is a crisp crackling sound.

"Yes." Cesar recalled their estimated timing and pushed the plate of chicken aside. "You're too cautious, Vermeer," he said. "So cautious that you missed the right moment. I believe the key to war lies, on the one hand, in the acquisition and analysis of intelligence, and on the other hand, in the efficiency of its use. When you had the intelligence advantage and I knew nothing, how much time did you spend gloating over it and doing nothing?"

"You mean when you have the upper hand..."

Before Vermeer could finish, the distant sounds of trumpets, musketry, and the shrill cries of soldiers echoed from the Governor's Palace. At that moment, a series of cannonballs boomed from the fortress's towers, landing not outside the city walls but within. The continuous volleys shook the building, and copper wine cups tumbled off the table and rolled onto the porch. These were not only captured artillery pieces, but also Gonzales's city defense cannons, which required several oxen to pull—their night assault had begun from those towers.

The Governor's fingers twitched, and a tired yet somewhat gloomy look appeared on his face. "How many men did you commit to the attack on the tower, Cesar?"

"Are you wondering why I took the lead in occupying the outer defense artillery of the fortress during the chaotic night battle, but turned a blind eye to the Governor's Palace?"

"Yes."

"You should ask yourself, Vermir," Cesar said, looking at Vermir meaningfully. "When you suspected I would raise an army, why did you prioritize defending the area around the Governor's Palace? Did you deploy too many soldiers here, leaving other areas unprotected?"

Vermeer smiled unnaturally. "I thought you would put your own life first."

"No, I prioritized capturing the fortress," he denied.

Cesar noticed a subtle shift in the people around him. The aristocratic elegance on their faces suddenly faded. Even those who had seemed hesitant to speak due to the tense atmosphere just now turned their heads in unison, looking like two rows of lifeless puppets. The only two exceptions were Vermeer and the imperial visitor, Ossos.

"You seem to be investing in the wrong direction, Cesar," Vermeer said solemnly across the long table. "Do you want to tell me now that you've decided to sacrifice yourself as bait in order to capture the entire fortress?"

"The fort's ownership has been changed, and Gonzales' rebellion will be quelled soon. Before the dust settles, you can still choose a more dignified way to leave, Fermire."

Vermeer leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "I don't care if I leave Gonzales with dignity, but if I don't get rid of you, Cesar, this transformation is going to go terribly wrong," he said grimly.

At this moment, there was another series of loud booms, and shells landed on the burning house outside the window. Columns of fire instantly shot up into the dark night sky, illuminating the Governor's Mansion with a dark red. The moonlight was also obscured by the flames.

Cesar shrugged in the firelight, as if he couldn't feel fear, which, to be honest, he could hardly feel. "How are you going to get rid of me, Governor?"

A servant brought a gold coin and handed it to Vermeer. The reverse side of the coin bore a long, pointed emblem, while the obverse bore the head of the Emperor of the Kasar Empire. Given the fragmented state of the Kasar Empire, this coin must be a relic.

"Why not let this gold coin decide, Cesar?" The Governor held the coin between his index finger and thumb, staring at Cesar expressionlessly. "You can guess which side it will land on. If you guess correctly, I'll let you die gracefully in this girl's arms," ​​Vermeer said as he flicked the coin, throwing it into the air and flipping it rapidly. "But if you guess wrong..."

As the Governor's voice rose deliberately, the crossbow's sound was barely audible. With a faint tremor of the bowstring, the sharp arrow pierced Cesar's neck and exited his throat. The gold coin still flipped in mid-air, but the Governor no longer cared which side it landed on. It was clearly a cover for murder, seemingly grandiose, but surprisingly effective against those who considered themselves brave.

A large pool of blood splattered across the table. Cesar choked, sweeping the plate next to him off the table, sending the barbecue scattering across the floor. Meanwhile, the dog licked his wounds. Seeing this, the blond man named Osos shook his head, his reaction incredibly hopeless, as if he believed someone's personality had been completely shattered.

Vermeer finally took the gold coin. "Judging from the results," he said methodically, "I think no matter what you guessed, you didn't guess it right. Noyen's..."

Cesar suddenly swung his fist at a guest approaching from his left, and the jab sunk into his elbow, and the fist protruded from the back of the man's head. He pulled his arm away, only to see that the man's head had become a hollow ring on his neck, and tissues and organs from the eyeballs down to the mouth upwards were ejected from the back of his head, splattering on the wall behind him, coagulating into countless messy filth.

The Governor's expression did not change, and

The fake nobleman who was sitting one seat away from Sal waved his hand, and two sharp scimitars turned into intertwined phantoms, flying towards him in an arc. At the same time, the person who was suspected to be his mistress jumped up directly on the spot, grabbed the dining table with both hands, and

The body bent forward like a water snake, and a long leg stretched out, and a boot with a sharp blade at the tip kicked towards him along the trajectory of the flying knife.

Cesar grabbed the woman's ankles, pulled her toward him, and swung her around. He used her to deflect two spinning scimitars, then slammed her face down onto the marble floor, flattening her features into a pool of blood. He tossed her twisted, broken body, a shower of blood and viscera, across the long table. Before she merged with the wall, the two scimitars that had sliced ​​through her body were already in the hands of the Faceless Ones.

While Gouzi put away the new toys he had just picked up, she sat on his left arm and pulled out the crossbow bolt that had pierced his throat. Once the bolt was out, she hugged his neck again and licked the wound in his throat that was bleeding like a fountain, sucking until her mouth was full of blood, soaking her entire jaw.

He seemed to have grown taller again for some unknown reason? But it didn't matter.

Vermeer had just taken two steps back when Cesar leaped up from the spot, leaping over the long table splattered with blood and dirt. A sword-wielding knight rushed over to block his path, not even having time to drop his visor, but raising his sword high and roaring at him, as if forcing himself to demonstrate loyalty and bravery.

Cesar reached out, gripping the point of his sword. He stomped his boot right into the knight's face, stomping him into the marble. The knight collapsed with a thud, his face dented beneath his feet, devoid of any human features. A thick stream of blood spurted from the slits of his helmet, like a wineskin leaking from a ripped, multi-toned bottle.

He pulled the blood-stained blade out of his arm, swung it back, and blocked the crossbow arrow shot from the dark. He then reached out to catch the gold coin that Fermir had dropped in panic and threw it to Gouzi. Then he stood still, holding the increasingly petite Faceless Man, and looked into the eyes of the living people.

One corpse had a hollow skull, another's head had rotted into mud inside its helmet, and yet another was embedded in the wall, sliding down like a ball of mud, spilling all sorts of filth everywhere. The fake noble who had just thrown his scimitar stood there, pondering and assessing the situation, his movements hesitant. The crossbowmen behind him also paused. As for the fake knight, with a massive shadow looming behind him, he was shielding his employers, Fermire and Ossos, as they retreated.

Cesar's gaze fell on the man's sculpted face, and he hesitated for a moment. Then he grasped a short scimitar and, imitating the sword dancer he had encountered when escaping the garden, threw it at Vermeer...

The man raised his hand to block the scimitar, his five fingers tightly gripping the blade. Cesar saw wisps of burning smoke rising from his palm, and molten iron flowing through his fingers, dripping onto the marble floor, gradually forming a pile of burning sticky liquid.

"Who are you?" Cesar asked with a frown. The dog also blinked at the man with a hint of curiosity.

"I followed the path of Sagaroth, forging my body deep within the hearth. Which god are you following?"

"I follow Helgast." He began by naming the god he had just heard of recently.

"Helgast's chosen one does not look like you."

"That's Xiel."

"You're very good at making up stories. Would you like to list all the gods you can think of?"

"But you don't look very good as an assassin," Cesar pointed out nonchalantly.

"I'm not an assassin, but we will provide asylum to guests who make long-term donations." The unidentified temple monk waved his hand, signaling everyone to head for the door. "Everyone, get out," he said. "Take the guest and flee the city. I need to speak to this person alone."

Seeing the situation was not going well, Fermire and Ossos left. The fake nobleman, whom Cesar had believed to be close to the woman, also left as if nothing had happened. Only the crossbowmen in the shadows were still tightening their bowstrings. Then the temple monk cleared his throat, his deep blue eyes cast to the ceiling. "Get out, child."

The crossbowman remained silent, as if trying to express his objection through silence.

"Forget the hatred that you cannot bear, do you understand?" the monk roared.

The man also walked away. Cesar thought that the emotional relationships among these assassins were quite complicated. The man holding the woman didn't take it seriously at all, and was like a couple in a fleeting relationship. On the contrary, the crossbowman in the dark felt the pain of the death of his beloved.

Chapter 150 Adding fuel to the fire

Cesar pinched the blood on his fingertips and suddenly realized that it was just something like plasma, and not a single drop had actually seeped into his skin. He had originally wanted to kill whoever noticed his abnormality, but now that he realized the abnormality wasn't on him, he suddenly had a different idea.

"These human-like things..." Cesar asked, "What are they?"

"They are all our children," the monk whispered. Cesar observed the man's face and expression, finding himself at a loss for words to describe him. If anything, he couldn't be categorized into any group, nor could he be compared to anyone else. The monk's eyebrows were thick and straight, his eyes deep, like stone reliefs. Though his skin, like Altinya's, was as delicate as porcelain, he looked anything but androgynous. His jet-black beard reached deep into his silver armor, seemingly reaching to his waist.

Ajiehe suddenly emerged from behind him like a ghost. "Is a defective product made from smelted slag considered a child?" she asked casually.

"Wolf Soul...

"..." The monk hesitated, "Very good, I guess who you are. As you said, we always drop debris from our bodies, and the furnace will always smelt them into something that is neither human nor inhuman. Indeed, they all have their own flaws and stupidity, some are particularly fragile and brittle, and some cannot feel.