Shadow of the Evil God

"Ahahaha." Cesar laughed twice, as if he were having a nervous breakdown. What was wrong? Was there glue in the old man's brain, or glue in his ears? "How many people believe this rumor?" he asked.

"Those who know the news believe it," said Falbio. "Although the ostensible purpose is to apprehend murderers, those with access to information know that the Count has repeatedly urged you to save your lives. It's said he even paid a large sum of money to the capital's tax collectors, asking them to keep the matter under wraps. He wants to handle the matter himself. Now they all call you Little Borgia. Different versions of the story are passed around, but the core is that Sean Borgia is hiding the fact that he has an heir—he's afraid you'll be killed by his brothers, who are after the family fortune."

"At least I don't have to think of another last name for myself," Cesar said. "Though these stories can be used... What's the connection between this place and the nobles? What on earth are those people doing here?"

"This place is the pleasure room of Hiel."

"Hier?"

"A famous goddess of pleasure," Gyalbio explained. "Widely worshipped among the nobility and the rising elite, her teachings claim that devout believers in this world can enter a paradise of joy and pleasure, and that praying to her in this world can eliminate all forms of suffering."

"Eliminating all kinds of painful emotions? Shouldn't this be widely admired only among the nobility and the emerging elite?" At this point, Cesar thought of the place they were staying. "Is pleasure openly permitted by their church, or is it clearly forbidden but still persists?"

"The church has explicitly banned it, but there are always priests who secretly open pleasure halls and preside over these ecstatic rituals for the powerful to secretly enjoy. No matter how they are banned, it seems to be impossible to stop them. People call this thing Xiel's dream. You know, everyone is honest about their desires, so these secret meetings are very popular, which directly leads to Xiel's widespread worship among the nobility and the emerging powerful."

Those priests were either heretics hiding within the orthodox sect, or they were simply trying to make money. Cesar couldn't say for sure. "So, the actual controller of this place is a priest of the God of Pleasure? Someone who was there at the time?" He stopped paying attention to the question.

"He wasn't there," Fake Libio denied. "The priest was only responsible for mixing secret medicines and presiding over the opening ceremony. He didn't interfere in worldly affairs. I usually just pretended he didn't exist."

Cesar felt that there was something behind Gouzi's words, because at this time she was Libio, so there was something behind Libio's words.

The Faceless Ones imitated their victims perfectly, not only in appearance, but also in the most subtle expressions and thoughts.

The manner, the words, the details of the expression were all imitated exactly. Except for the lack of heart, she was more like himself than he was.

It can be said that the Faceless One has taken everything from Libio and completely replaced him. She has taken over his position, his personality, and his emotions.

, and all the friends and enemies he has, just as if a person's life were written into a book and then the words of the book were read aloud to others.

The other person in people's eyes is not himself after all, but just an illusion they see. It makes no difference to others whether the words in the book are read by him or by an alien.

"So, when did you realize he existed?" Cesar asked.

"Well, actually, we've been discussing something recently..." Fake Libio's face was filled with nervousness. "We're going to run a pleasure room of our own and introduce some people who aren't particularly devout but really want to experience the Xiel Dream. Because not long ago, we learned something—" He glanced mysteriously in the direction of the smoke-filled corridor. "The Xiel Dream has nothing to do with the gods. It's just an illusion caused by a mixture of various poisonous herbs. We've already tried it privately."

It really is a drug, Cesar thought. "Is there any difference between when you were managing your own pleasure and now?"

"We have to pay the priests too much," said Falbio, looking him straight in the face. "Even if we manage to open a small slave trade through the nobles, it has to sit side-by-side with their religious rituals. He even stole the goods we worked so hard to acquire and shipped them out of the port to the Great Temple in Hiel without compensation. Many of us... are resentful, but we don't show it."

Cesar pondered the meaning of this for a while, and then realized that the priests had taken a liking to the people they had abducted, and therefore transported them to the Great Temple to develop them into new believers.

"How did you know that this secret... Xiel's Dream has nothing to do with the gods?" he asked.

"Gray Hair found out. He couldn't hide anything, and soon we all knew everything."

"Gray hair?"

"That guy who always likes to stir up trouble with the dagger is actually named Grigga," Fake Libio said. "We call him Gray Hair because of his hair color."

It turned out to be the guy who was causing trouble for him like a dramatic performance.

"How did he find out?" Cesar asked.

"I hadn't thought about it, but the news is true. We have mixed the herbs privately, and there is no need for any religious ceremony."

"Have you never suspected that there is something wrong with Gray Hair?"

"Him? Grayhair?" Fake Libio's tone was as if Grayhair was a ridiculous and insignificant guy.

"Don't tell me that guy is always looking for trouble and always makes himself embarrassed, always ending up in an awkward position. He looks like a fool with a weak brain. But he can often make everyone laugh, so everyone thinks that Gray Hair is a good person and speaks quite honestly."

"Yeah. That's right." Fake Libio agreed.

Cesar frowned. It wasn't that he was too suspicious, but in a world where gods existed—even if these gods might just be ancient demons—no, precisely because the gods of this world might be ancient demons who shaped power through desire and will, their priests had to be wary.

Was that guy really looking for trouble when he observed him with curiosity? Was Cesar the only one with acting skills, and the locals couldn't?

Cesar continued to ask: "When did you guys start working in Noyen?"

"It's been more than ten years."

"When did this pleasure room come into existence?"

“It is said to have a history of more than a hundred years.”

"Then how did you... replace the previous group of people who were responsible for the mundane affairs of pleasure?"

"We used to be mercenaries," Fake Libio said after a moment's thought, "and then we were looking for a place to stay, so we heard someone recommend us to take over the affairs here."

"I'm talking to you about the last group of people who were responsible for the mundane affairs between pleasures."

"I don't know this."

Cesar thought this answer was ridiculous. "A temple that's been around for hundreds of years. About a decade ago, the people in charge of its secular affairs disappeared for no apparent reason. Then someone offered you the job, and you just took it over, not caring how they disappeared?"

Fake Libio paused. "We didn't pay much attention to it at the time. After more than a decade, we just... stopped thinking about it."

"When did Gray Hair join the gang?" he continued to ask.

"It's been about ten years," said Falbio, and then added, "I joined before we came to Noien."

"Did you come up with the idea of ​​going to Noien before Grayfur joined the group, or after?"

"I can't remember..."

"I'm not asking Libio, I'm asking you, do you hear me?" Cesar grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Try to turn his head over, even if it turns into a mess, you have to tell me this, do you understand?"

Her skin was taut, and her strange face, made of limbs, suddenly began to wriggle. As if turned over, her cheeks were distorted violently, and her swollen belly was

Her abdomen contracted suddenly, and she shook her head, letting her rustling golden hair shake out from the gaps between her joints.

"We came to Noyen after Gray Hair joined the gang!" Gouzi said, clutching his slightly swollen belly as if pregnant. "Don't shake it, I just ate so much, it will take some time to digest..."

“I think after a while, this

The gang is about to disappear for no reason." Cesar released his hand and said, "If Noyen hadn't been breached, the next group of idiots who came to manage this place wouldn't know how the previous group of people disappeared."

"Is that so?" she muttered. "But Libio has already disappeared beforehand. What shall I do?"

"Don't worry about what you're doing," Cesar said. "I don't want to get involved in this kind of trouble, but the priests here have ways to send people to their great temple... Can you mimic two people at once? I mean, let Libio and the girl nicknamed Gouzi exist at the same time?"

The dog blinked in confusion. "You mean growing two heads, Master? That might be a little difficult."

Every time this guy spoke, his expression grew darker. "No, forget about it," he shook his head. "Change back to Libio first. I need to talk to him about this. But first, we need to call the little witch over."

"Then how should I tell them about you and me?" she asked.

Cesar was stuck for a long time before he realized that the first "I" was Libio and the second "I" was Gouzi.

"Go and tell them that we are your new servants."

Chapter 12: True Knowledge Mantra

When they woke up the next day, they had taken over Libio's bedroom. It was an extravagant room, with a large bed, big enough for three or four, perched on a raised platform in the center. The mattress was lined with velvet, the covers were soft, and above the bed hung a light blue silk curtain, even embroidered with silver thread.

Although he knew he wouldn't be able to stay here for long, the bedroom's environment still made Cesar feel better. He put on his coat and lifted the fluffy gold-embroidered quilt. This group of people were mercenaries, and the first thing they did after making enough money was to surround their living space with gold and silver.

He glanced at the other side of the bed and saw that Fils was lying on the pillow, still looking gloomy and half-dead. Her skin was still pale, her eyes were dark, her movements were weak, and just being there made him feel that the whole room was dark.

It's a miracle this guy can live half-dead in this place.

"Shouldn't I have let you stay in the house the past few days?" Cesar asked. "You passed out as soon as you touched the quilt last night. How much sleep have you gotten these days? Are you sure you won't suddenly die before we escape the city?"

"I don't like going out." She pulled the covers over her head. "I don't like sleeping either."

"Did you eat anything yesterday?"

"I forgot."

"So, can you still function normally now?"

Phils struggled for a moment. "Uh, I'm a little weak... If I had animal blood or the corpses of recently dead animals, I could recover a little..."

"There's no animal blood or carcasses, but there is gruel," Cesar said.

"The porridge is too disgusting," Firth protested. "I am a mage. I have my own magic methods to restore my body. All you have to do is get me the ingredients for the ritual..."

Before the trouble-making Phils could finish her words, Cesar reached out and pinched her face, forced her mouth open, picked up the bowl, and gulped the food into her mouth.

"If you keep eating like a so-called mage for a few more years, your stomach will start to deteriorate," he said as he poured the food in. "This is the dried meat and rice I cooked for myself. The ingredients are already mashed, the temperature is perfect, and it's thin enough to barely suit your stomach, which can't handle anything. If you still care about the civilized world, start by being a normal person."

After filling up half a bowl of porridge, Cesar just put the bowl down when he saw Phils coughing, stretching out her right hand, and pointing her curled index finger at him.

Her action seemed unintentional, but in fact she had ulterior motives. He immediately grabbed her right wrist and twisted it back together with her left wrist, pinning both her arms behind her back.

"I heard," Cesar stared at Fils from behind, meeting her upward gaze, "that some beginners in spellcasting lack the ability and need to use body movements to make the semantic expression of the spell more precise. Can you tell me what you meant by pointing at me just now?"

Phils fell silent, uttering an inaudible murmur that seemed to curse him. Cesar carefully observed the clues in her expression, and when her blue eyes suddenly lost focus, he covered her mouth with his hand.

"I've also heard," he continued, his tone casual, as if he were verbally reprimanding a dishonest relative's child, "that performing unassisted spells requires expressing a meaning simultaneously in two specialized languages: an inner language, which you recite silently in your mind, and an outer language, which you recite aloud. Some beginners aren't good at multi-thinking, and it takes them a while to adjust their minds before they can complete the spell. A typical symptom is a loss of focus in their eyes." He clamped his hand over her mouth tighter. "Am I right?"

Phils's reaction was even more intense, but she was physically weak, so he could hold both of her arms with one hand. She was also incredibly weak, and after struggling for a long time, it felt like she was catching a wild cat.

Seeing her unusual resistance, Cesar was not angry.

He was so angry that he just pulled the straps around her waist and tied them tightly around her wrists several times. He twisted each of her fingers into a ball, making them look like they were wrapped in a messy ball of yarn.

After the incident, Cesar placed the uncooperative Phils against the head of the bed and studied her expression.

"When you promise me

"Before this journey can proceed smoothly," he said, "I have to make sure you don't suddenly die from your bad living habits. If you understand, I'll let go of your hand. If you don't understand, I'll stuff your unwashed socks from last night into your mouth."

Cesar released his hand from covering her mouth, and Phils's eyes immediately lost focus, but as soon as he reached out to the socks she had thrown on the bed, her pupils immediately regained focus. After several rounds of this, she completely lost her reaction, like a little girl who had lost the authority of her imagined leader.

Then she fell back and collapsed on the pillow without saying a word.

The situation was absurd. Of course, he hadn't expected someone from the wilderness to be easygoing. Cesar stirred the porridge beside him, while Phils stared at him intently with a dark expression. Her gaze was like a ghost puppet in a horror story, disappearing in the blink of an eye and reappearing above him in the next.

When Cesar was about to finish the other half of the porridge by himself, Phils said, "I want to eat."

"I thought you wanted to pass out from hunger." He turned around and said, "The porridge is cold, but it's still drinkable. Try to get up and I'll feed you with a spoon."

"I want to eat them myself," Firth objected. "If you don't want me to wriggle over like a maggot and lick them from the bowl into my mouth, untie my hands."

"Then you can start squirming now," Cesar said.

Firth's eyes widened as she stared at him intently. She herself lay in a tangle of blankets, her jaws dug deep into the covers, struggling like a twisted water snake. Judging by the state of the blankets, she hadn't slept well last night, and it was unclear what nightmare she'd been having.

Cesar calmly scooped a spoonful of porridge and placed it against her lips, but she pursed her lips and refused to swallow. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it in. He paused, staring at the person staring at him. For a moment, he felt it was hard to tell whether Phils was more difficult to deal with or the brainless Faceless One.

Seeing this, he ignored the guy and stirred the cold porridge himself. About the time he put the first spoonful of porridge to his mouth, she finally spoke and said, "Add more sugar and heat it up."

Cesar shrugged in agreement, and a moment later, Fake Libio came in with a steaming bowl of sweet porridge. Nothing happened, and no one came to question him. The others probably assumed Fake Libio was taking care of his new lover.

This kind of thing is not uncommon. In the current social structure, beautiful people of low social status are either passively or actively attached to the upper class. The active part is actually to recommend themselves to the upper class and sell themselves as slaves. After all, compared with being a free poor person, being a slave of the upper class is always better.

The passive part is sometimes abducted by people like porter gangs, but more often, they are sold directly by their parents in order to get a good price to support their family's poor life.

In this era, people lacked entertainment options. When the lights were turned off at night, they could only engage in sexual activity to relieve boredom. When they did this, they inevitably got pregnant unexpectedly, and then had more and more children. When there were too many children to support, they had to consider how to have a reasonable number of children.

As Cesar fed Phils the greasy-sweet porridge, he heard her stomach growl. Based on his experience, this wasn't a sign of hunger, but rather a symptom of gastrointestinal discomfort.

"To date, how much of your meals have you consumed by using magic to extract dying animals?" He asked, looking at the girl lying on the bed, swallowing sweet porridge. "Is this really something a wizard would do?"

Those light blue eyes never blinked.

"At the time, I thought you were calm and had good judgment. You knew that the nobles from the royal capital would blame you, so you followed us down." Cesar said as he stirred the spoon. "But every time I spend with you, my impression of you changes faster. Putting aside other problems, the main problem is that you followed a stranger of unknown origin to escape without thinking. What do you think?" He joked.

"That last one is wrong," Firth retorted immediately. "No matter how hateful you are, you're not as hateful as Corini."

"You have a deep prejudice against the Earl's advisor? But what does this have to do with you going crazy even though you're already half dead?"

"Maybe he thinks no matter how bad things get, it can't be worse than being with Corini." Firth muttered as she swallowed a mouthful of sweet porridge, apparently trying to evade the question. "This is incredibly sweet," she gulped down another mouthful. "But a little sweeter is more to my taste." She choked and nearly coughed up the porridge. "Mmmm!" She swallowed the rice grains with great effort, seemingly without chewing at all. "Now, can we get down to business? Loosen the rope!"

Cesar himself couldn't untie the rope he had tangled into a ball of yarn, so he called the fake Libio over again and watched her use several of her limbs to pick apart the tangled belt of Phil's silk. After the job was done, he watched the fake Libio walk out the door with an arrogant expression, and naturally went to do what the real Libio would do.

Yes,

This is completely the character of Libio, an arrogant, greedy and lustful old mercenary. Although the real Libio is dead, it does not affect his existence in the eyes of others. A crazy thing has replaced him, inherited everything he had, and

His identity and existence were taken away from him, and it could even be said that even his death was taken away by her.

If Cesar wanted, he could have her be Libio for decades without anyone noticing. When the fake Libio died of old age, she would take over the identity of someone else.

People become identities, which is actually very terrifying. However, standing on the side that creates terror, the feeling of witnessing this happening becomes very subtle.

After struggling to get up, although still looking indignant, Phils just muttered a few words, then nodded with resistance as a way of saying thank you.

This guy had no reaction to the Faceless One, probably because he was used to seeing weird things.

"What do you know about Xiel and her priests?" Cesar asked. Of course, the real meaning of this question was how the mages viewed them. Just because someone was close to him didn't mean he could completely trust their opinions or value judgments. However, hearing the perspectives of different people from different perspectives would always provide him with more references.

"Of course I know Hier," she said, "but I can't describe it to you in earthly terms."

"Since it can't be conveyed through words, how did you learn that knowledge?"

"Knowledge is different from knowledge," murmured Firth.