Shadow of the Evil God

From love to hate, some have difficulty communicating normally, and some have lost their senses, but as parents, we always have to find a way for Holmunk to survive."

Cesar wanted to ask the monk what he truly believed himself to be, but since Ajeh had already helped him conceal his identity and led him to the wrong conclusion, it would be best for him to remain silent and allow the man to misunderstand him. If this man's misunderstanding could become a rumor like his false noble identity and spread widely, he would face much less trouble.

Many times, people have to rely on lies to survive.

"So," Cesar said, avoiding their previous topic, "you brought these Holmonks to kill me simply to make an offering to the temple? Even though you are a monk who has dedicated yourself to the Way?"

"It's not just about offerings. The Temple believes the nobles can truly bring about change, altering the course of the world. We don't mind introducing extramural means to promote the end of some things and the rise of others. If you are determined to hinder us, you will have to find suitable allies in the future to prepare to fight against us."

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean. Do you want me to find a conservative temple and form an alliance with them?"

"Perhaps the School of Magic can also do this," the monk said, not caring about his expression, "as long as you dare to bear the endless arrogance and cruelty of the School of Magic."

"I originally thought the Temple would not participate in secular wars."

"I won't speak for other temples, but we simply don't focus on the mundane disputes," the monk said. "We stand high enough to see and assess those disputes that are not mundane. Evered IV's stubbornness and conservatism hindered many things. When we realize that the nobles' actions are forcing change, we will naturally promote it."

"What can you gain from this?" Cesar asked puzzled.

"Why should we gain anything from this? Booty? Slaves? Loot? No, not at all. As long as the world becomes another, we can find new horizons through the doors of the past. This era has reached its twilight, Cesar. If you continue to stand beside Evered IV, you will only gain the scraps that you cannot bring with you when you are born and cannot take with you when you die."

Cesar said nothing. The monk's political stance was obvious, but he had no intention of expressing his thoughts. He could tell that the monk was concerned about actual changes in the situation, not empty speeches and promises.

When certain temples deemed a noble faction worthy of aid, they decided not to help the faction itself, but rather the situation that would be created if the faction won. This situation might involve many things, including banking, factories, the redistribution of power and wealth, and many other things he couldn't think of at the moment.

As for Cesar, who possessed a wolf spirit and was often mistaken for some ancient, obtuse follower of a beast god, the monks didn't seem to consider him politically appropriate. They didn't need him as an ally, nor could they consider him an enemy. They simply warned him not to take these worldly dregs seriously. If Cesar insisted on opposing them, he should be prepared to risk his life.

However, Cesar had already made his bet. There was no temple behind him. His noble status was fake, the name of his temple was fake, and even the figure behind him, who was mistaken for a wolf spirit, was fake. He was a cursed beastman, a follower of the alien god Analik, just like him. Amidst all these falsehoods, the power and status he possessed were the only real and credible things.

Although the monks call them residue.

"I don't like being an unknown person who adds fuel to the fire," Cesar said. "I would rather create the waves myself. Then, you will naturally understand what change is."

"Does this mean you want to seize power and status first, and use this conflict as a tool?" the monk pressed. His attitude was remarkably clear.

"You've made it clear enough, haven't you?"

"We never believe in empty promises, Cesar. If you want to use this dispute as a tool, you must be prepared to be killed by the tool."

"You're right, but I never expected anything from you. Adding fuel to the fire sounds worthwhile, but some things can't be promoted just from behind the scenes."

The monk looked at him. "What shall I say to you, Cesar? The Being behind you is so ancient and blind, so ancient that I cannot even say what you believe in—is it some primitive emotion or impulse? We always thought those temples were forgotten, worshipped only by the wilderness and the countryside."

"You can say anything to me, treat me like anyone. I've lived in exile in the slums, worked as a fish thief, been sold by slave traders at least three times, and then was forced to accept a hopeless defense of the city. After finally getting through it, I was forced to suppress a rebellion in a place where the governor was a traitor. Not only did I make it through, I decided not to run away again. Can you guess why?"

Cesar looked around at the mess of corpses, shook his head and exhaled, "I have found an identity worth defending, which means I no longer need to add fuel to the fire for anyone.

No one is worth pushing, I can stand on the wave, even I am the wave. "

Chapter 151 Which one are you talking about?

......

Capture Gonzales at night

The next morning, after a long battle, the fortress was still shrouded in a cloud of gunfire smoke. This smoke, mixed with the morning mist, looked like a boiling river from afar, billowing along the corpse-heavy streets at the slightest gust of wind. Rats scurried around the street corners, leaving bloody paw prints everywhere. Jackdaws cawing from the towers carried the dead's eyeballs to the branches of the trees.

Last year, Cesar was still worried about an impossible defense of the city, running around to save the people in the downtown area, but now he had created the slaughterhouse in front of him. Thinking of this, he felt dazed, as if he had just had a big dream and woke up in the early morning.

Cesar turned around and sat down against the inner wall of the conference room. Gouzi sat beside him, humming a ballad from nowhere amid the blood-stained floor. She remained spotless, and her melody was a hazy, melodious melody that drifted like smoke, lingering in his ears, quite enchanting. Amidst this bloody slaughterhouse, the Faceless One sang like a spirit from a fairyland. Her strangeness was apparent to anyone, yet it was hard not to be drawn in, drawing closer.

"You've saved my life again," Cesar said to Ajeh as she sang. "From the time I came into this world until now, you've tried to kill me the most times, but you've also saved me the most times. Don't you think that's amazing?"

"Do you enjoy imposing meaning on forced decisions, Cesar?" Ajeh asked, her tone unkind. "Perhaps you do, but I don't, unless I want to sit by a corpse after killing someone and demand that every crow and hyena that comes to scavenge thank me for saving my life."

"Is that how you talk to your brother?" Cesar asked her. "Surely that tone won't tempt someone to commit patricide?"

After he finished speaking, he heard a long silence.

"Musali doesn't pay attention to unimportant things like you, and he doesn't talk as much as you." Ajiehe replied.

"But I heard from Musari that you are the one who talks the most," Cesar replied.

"That's because they're both more taciturn than the other. You might not get a single word in reply even if you say something."

Is that creature still wandering the wasteland? Cesar couldn't help but wonder what she's looking for now. "If another Ajeh comes to us, I can tell her what's happened so far and ask her to consider giving you your freedom," he said. "I don't know what you want, and I can't do anything for you, but I want you to know that I'd be happy if you stayed with me. If not, I want you to tell me how I can keep you."

"Where I stay has nothing to do with who you are, but only with whether you can fulfill the bold words you have spoken."

"That's a boast. You're right. So, you won't just walk away until you see me completely fail one day, right? I have to rely on you for many things."

"Maybe," said Ajeh.

"We need to resolve the Gonzales situation first. Then, while we seek legal support from Urbino, we'll expand our military using our own methods, much like what Vermeer is doing here. Before the war breaks out, we need to at least organize a sizable army and ensure their loyalty isn't to Olidan, but to us, the ones who are keeping them alive."

Cesar reached out to Ajeh's vague figure. The sword had struck so deeply that her arm was still healing and bleeding profusely. She initially tried not to open her mouth, but eventually, her teeth sank in, like an uncontrollable instinct. She still looked like a fusion of human and wolf, her left and right sides clearly distinct. But from her human side, her every move was graceful, a grace that made him think she would be perfectly suited to the dark robes of a monk or a black evening gown.

Last time he pressed the pad of her palm, this time she lowered her head to suck the blood from his arm, her furry wolf ears drooping forward, and he could hardly resist the curiosity to catch them, so he did. He pinched them between his index finger and thumb and stroked them upward along the soft shell of her ear - and saw the gray eyes quickly raise, one of them silent and silent, the other wide as a plum.

After staring at each other for a while, Cesar winked at Ajeh nonchalantly. She disappeared, leaving only the Faceless One staring at him unblinking, as if questioning the meaning of his actions.

"It doesn't make any sense," he could only shrug. "I just couldn't resist the urge to pinch it. We all have similar instincts. You know what I like about that girl? Her two faces express two different feelings. Others can hardly see the inner conflict of a human being, but she has it written all over her face."

Cesar sighed as he spoke, then sat there, waiting. The morning light rose outside the window, while on the other side, in the increasingly dark and eerie conference room, everything seemed to melt away. Longing shadows covered the corpses, walls, and ceiling of the room, yet they trembled in the absence of true souls and flesh. The Holmonks stood up like puppets suspended by strings, stumbling back and forth, their lacerated wounds filled with swirling eyeballs, like a machine filled with gears.

Hundreds of prying eyes followed the corpse

The blood skin flowed slowly, bringing him a broken and intertwined vision, like a flickering kaleidoscope, making his consciousness confused.

The dog's singing became increasingly softer, and he could hardly hear it.

Instead, he was filled with a thirst for souls and blood outside the meeting room. The wounded and the dead tempted his heart, like a wild cat seeing a wounded bird, wanting to catch it in its claws, play with it, torture it, and finally devour it. From that thirst flowed a fragrant venom that intoxicated, addicted, and unable to extricate himself.

Path, way... No, his path was not this primitive impulse...

Cesar heard footsteps. The Holmonks were still stumbling on their broken bodies. The conference room was pitch dark as night, the windows completely locked, the door sealed tightly by shadows. Only with the faint glow of magic could he discern a few outlines within the dark, coffin-like building. A pair of overlapping figures flickered past the door, then vanished, suddenly reappearing beside him.

"Why are you here?"

"That guy told me," Fils said, bending down and poking his face. "He said if I wasn't here, you'd probably sit on the ground with your knees hugged, waiting to die like a beggar, so I came here first."

"There are so many of them." Cesar couldn't help laughing and poked her face. "Which one are you talking about?"

Firth grabbed the two shadows that were squirming towards him and stuffed them into his mouth. "Wait until I stuff this stuff into your body, filling you up from the front and back, and then you'll know which one I'm talking about."

Chapter 152 My Existence Has a Purpose

"I never thought you'd come this far... I don't understand how you can still maintain your human body and sanity."

Cesar looked up at the words and saw the eldest daughter of the Duke's family approaching from the side. Her eyes swept over the strange scene in the conference room, and the more she observed, the more confused she became.

He had to admit, that face was the most outstanding of all he had ever seen, unmatched. He hadn't had time to dwell on it on the battlefield, but now he knew full well that the Yestren School had a tradition of selecting its offspring. It could be said that this person wasn't a creation of nature, but the result of a soul-and-life project.

Generation after generation, these mages selectively cultivate the most gifted offspring, using prophecies to screen and eliminate deviations, searching for suitable mates, striving to fully control their offspring's innate talents. As the mage who died in Ajeh's mouth knew, the Yesterlen School believed that with enough generations of this selection, they could create individuals capable of crossing a certain threshold. At that point, all the mysteries that plagued the mages would cease to be a problem, as this forerunner would naturally lead them to a path to all truth.

Diana walked over to him, bent down, and examined the wound on his arm with her chin tilted. "Even among the cursed ones carefully selected in the ancient texts, none are like you," she continued. "I believe that before a certain point, you could only survive by relying on your living armor. During this period, you were either a cursed construct sealed within the living armor, or a blood mist without form. In any case, you could not be human."

Cesar didn't answer because he didn't know why.

"Let's deal with the abnormality in this room, Finny, and collect the fragments of Holmunk," Diana said to Fils in a familiar tone. "If there is nothing else, I hope you will cooperate with me to conduct an inspection."

"I still need a day or two to make arrangements for the fortress," Cesar said, "but why did you stay so long? Your princess and I both thought something had happened to you."

"I'm trying to observe and confirm some of my own hypotheses," Diana replied. "To this end, she and I have conducted many experiments on many things. What exactly we're trying to confirm, perhaps it's better to wait until the time comes. Anyway, the abnormality in you is unprecedented in my life, and I believe there must be some secret."

......

Ajehe stuffed the remaining meat into Aya's mouth, turned her head towards the temple behind her, and raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to follow us out of this temple, Jiralo? I keep hearing you say that you have unfinished business, that you have to wait in the temple until something happens."

Jiralo walked out the door and set foot on the ancient rocky mountain road. He said nothing, and after a while he said, "I'm afraid it has already happened. The Morag herd is migrating, and the revelation of the change of era has been announced. I always thought you were just passing by, but now it seems that you are the unfinished business I have been waiting for."

"I don't understand you."

"I believe the lake has undergone a strange transformation, making it inaccessible by ordinary means. I need to guide you there, otherwise you will miss the destiny and revelation you were meant to discover."

"Fate and revelation again? Why can't you temple priests explain it more clearly?" Ajeh asked him.

Jirola shook his head. "I can't explain it any more clearly. I can only tell you that person might be sealed in the lake, carrying a secret as time stagnates for thousands of years. You must find that person, even if he is just a corpse, and force him to return to a time when he was still alive."

"I can't do such a thing."

"I can do it."

"Then couldn't you just find some undecayed corpses and force them to regress to a time when they were still alive?"

"This is a difficult spell. When I was still alive, we used it to call back the ancient sages. But I am a non-existent person after all. The more I use the spell, the less complete the probability of my existence. When we find the body and trace it back to when it was still alive,

When that happens, I will perish.”

Ajeh pondered the meaning of this for a moment. "But you've been around for so long... Is there any difference in your spells?"

"Magic requires a soul." The priest walked to her side, "But I am merely this world's memory of Jirola. When Jirola was alive, his soul could draw upon an endless supply of magic, but I can only consume my own. The more I use, the more my existence becomes increasingly elusive. I hope you understand this, Princess. I will not use magic to aid you on this journey until I have fulfilled my final responsibility. Otherwise, I will not be able to reverse the course of time for the dead."

"Can you truly accept your own demise? You've learned so many different things and seen so much of the distant future. I doubt you're the same Gilola who died in the past."

"It's hard to say," Girola said. "I don't know what will happen the moment I disappear, nor do I know where I'll go after that. Perhaps I can't accept it, so I just observe silently in the temple, never taking a single step forward. But I think... the continuation of knowledge and the succession of life are actually more important than my own existence. Back then, I gave half of my existence to educate that child who accidentally entered the temple. Now, it's time for me to give the other half."

As they talked, they descended the steps of the previous era, following the winding mountain road until they reached the canyon where they had stood when they arrived. Suddenly, looking back, the temple behind them was gone, and the ancient steps had disintegrated through the wind, as if over a thousand years, turning into a devastated pile of rocks and weeds.

Ajeh was at a loss for words, so she walked for many steps without glancing back at the old man. His words reminded her of her father, a Kuna whose memory and soul were shattered yet steadfastly refused to die. To this day, Iskrig still maintains the ten-yearly human sacrifice of the Kuna royal family. Like an ancient ghost, he crosses the abyss, wandering the wastes and countryside, slaying any Franks he stumbles upon and offering them to Analik, as if this were the sole meaning of their existence.

She was about to tell Girola about this, but when she turned around, he was gone, as if the footsteps and the dust that had just been heard were just illusions.

"Are you really going to continue with us?" Ajiehe sighed at the barren wasteland. "I can't feel your presence..."

"It's because a person feels that there are things they can no longer do that a being like me is born," Jirola said in a disembodied voice. "There's always a purpose for our appearance, Your Highness. I never realized it before, but now I realize I appeared for this moment. After so many years, such a long period of torture from loneliness, do you really think a person with normal emotions wouldn't go mad?"

Chapter 153: Myself in the Mirror

Ajeh didn't know what to say. For the rest of the journey, Girola hadn't completely vanished. He was still following them; she could still hear his footsteps, still sense the dust kicked up by his feet and the wind whipped by his clothes. She was certain the old priest was to her right, two or three steps behind them, but whenever she turned her head to look, he would suddenly vanish, making it impossible to spot him.

"Many years ago, Jirola took a part of the world's memory and gave it life. This is the Jirola you see now," the priest said slowly. "Rather than saying you are talking to a living being with a soul, it's better to say you are talking to the world itself. A part of this world has changed, creating a false Jirola, allowing you to see, hear, and feel a person who does not exist. You don't have to feel sad, Your Highness, because no death has occurred here."

"This thing itself is very unreal," said Ajiehe.

"It is quite unreal," Girola agreed, "because one cannot tell whether the other person in one's senses is real or imagined. Yesterday, while you could still touch me, your maid passed right through where I was standing. Has it ever occurred to you that I might now be just your imagination?"

Ajiehe paused, remembering the scene yesterday when she thought she was dreaming. "Is there any possibility of your existence continuing?" she asked.

She hoped Girola would give her a clearer explanation, but she could hear no sound, no one in her senses. Only Aya dived into the grass, snatched up a frightened rabbit, grinned at tonight's dinner, and whistled happily.

Ajeh could no longer be sure if Jiralo still existed. Perhaps what followed her now was just an ancient spell, waiting to reverse the time of a corpse. After that, the last trace of Jiralo would disappear completely.

......

Cesar touched her as if he had never seen her before—her delicate pale shoulders, her soft, smooth back, her flaxen hair that fell loosely on her shoulders. Phils tied a black scarf around her chest, which just covered the unripe fruit on her breasts. When he hugged her from behind, he could easily hold one in each hand by passing his arms under her armpits, watching them move as he moved.

The fingers rub it and it gradually changes shape.

For some reason, whenever he put his cheek on the little witch's shoulder, he felt his soul become peaceful.

He could clearly feel what it was like to use the ancient seal just by lowering his head and kissing her. It was really incredible.

Cesar stroked her raised little face and, as expected, touched her still dark circles under her eyes, as if they would never change.

He bit Fils's slightly parted lower lip, then trailed down her neck, lowering himself until he reached her hollow belly. With his lips pressed against her stomach, he could always feel her breathing, the rising and falling of her belly. And then there was her curvy hips, often so tense that digging a finger into the cleft was a struggle. The slightest touch of his fingertips to a place she didn't want touched would cause her to reflexively pull her hips back, banging her head against his chin and biting her teeth into his chest.

Cesar had to explain that he was touching her with the desire to completely hold her in his heart, and tried to remember the details of every part of her body. However, every time he discovered those details, he could not suppress his emotional excitement, so he could only wait until the next time he was clear-headed to remember them.

The little witch's slender waist twisted between his hands like a restless snake. Her upper body gradually bent backward like a snake, so he raised her two innocent legs and touched her white and tender feet that bent inward, which were not even as long as his hands.

The feet tensed at Cesar's touch, and when he held them in his hands they began to stir restlessly. To be honest, he had no reluctance to kiss those delicate, soft feet with their long, slender toes, so flexible and playful.

He held, caressed, and kneaded her two warm little feet for a long time, kissing her snow-white toes, gently nibbling her curved arch, and teasing her smooth soles with his fingertips. Finally, he kissed the back of her foot, pulling out a thin thread. Only then did he look up and see her lips tightly pursed in silence. Then, he felt her warm breath on his face, a cloud of misty white.

"That guy told me not to use magic for a while. Something seems amiss," Phils said, blushing. "If you keep messing around, I might get pregnant."

"then what do I do?"

"I...I'll try something else," she muttered.

Phils sat back a little, resting one foot on his vibrant member, touching it with her saliva-soaked toes, earning a slight twitch, then closing her small feet over it, arching her feet, gently clamping it, rubbing her soft soles against his eager passion - every movement she made, every rise and fall and twist of her feet, stimulating his tortured soul.

She raised her head and kissed him, their lips and tongues entwined for a long time, until their jaws were soaked with saliva and their consciousness was confused. Only then did she retract her legs, which were stuck together. Cesar pulled her close and held her in his arms. The girl in his arms felt as soft as boneless, her body limp, as if she was half-anesthetized. Her smooth, crystal-clear face was misty, either because the kiss was too long or because she had forgotten to breathe.

When Cesar put his fingers down, her eyes opened only slightly, and then she hugged his other arm.

"I've been reading a lot of incomprehensible texts lately, and I've had a lot of bizarre dreams," Firth muttered to herself. She hugged his left arm even tighter, holding it against her chest, and her legs clamped around his right hand. "It feels awful, and the worst part is that I wake up from a dream and have no one to bite." She bit his finger, but seemed afraid she'd bit too hard, so she held it in her mouth and licked the tooth mark.

"Did you discuss the meaning of the dream with that man?" Cesar asked her.

She stuck out her tongue, releasing his saliva-covered finger. "I don't know, because I can't remember clearly," she whispered. "But I feel like the person in the dream wanted to see reality through my eyes. You know that feeling when you see yourself in the mirror and your expression and movements change? I thought I shouldn't be afraid of folk tales like this, but they're just too terrifying. After having this dream, I realized one thing: people can't control their fear in dreams."

Chapter 154: Up and Down the Lake

"Now I'm here, with you," Cesar said. "If there were a spell that could connect minds, I could stay with you in your dreams. That way, those nightmares wouldn't bother you anymore. Maybe not."

Phils shook her head. "It's not the image in the dream that scares me, but the feeling of dislocation. There's a person rowing a boat on the lake, and I'm watching from below. It's as if I'm the image in the dream, the reflection in the water, and the person on the lake is the one dreaming. If someone else were to come by, they wouldn't notice the reflection in the lake, but the person rowing on it. When the moon disappears, the light fades, and the person rowing on the lake leaves, the reflection will disappear."