Shadow of the Evil God

The one-eyed man grinned. "Because the others were either promising talents or had already made great achievements. Do I understand clearly enough? I was only an assistant professor at the time, and my eyesight was blinded by research. The school didn't even need to worry about me passing on their true knowledge, because I hadn't had time to learn the secrets yet."

"Is that so?" Cesar looked at Gouzi, who nodded slightly. It looked like the one-eyed mage wasn't lying, unless his memories had been edited. "You sound like you're not much different from a military mage, so why do you hold such a high position and even lead the Black Sword?" he demanded.

"I'm not one of those untalented army mages," One-Eye declared. "I'm a wild mage. I have talent, and I've trained in Istrias. I was simply driven away before I could even begin to understand the true knowledge of the school."

"Are you a country wizard?" Cesar asked him.

"At least I received the theoretical knowledge."

"That sounds like the only difference," Cesar said.

"Knowing the path is the biggest difference," One-Eye insisted. "At least I know where to go in the wilderness, instead of being cursed and waking up as a monster."

"Are there many people like you wandering around who can't be called refugees?"

"There are refugees everywhere in this world with nowhere to go and no connections. How can I know what they are like? To put it bluntly, they are just a bunch of people who can barely survive in the wilderness but can't find a place to go, and they are tossed between refugees and robbers. I have done well enough. Most people are either bandit leaders or thugs for gangs."

Cesar moved the chair over to One-Eye's side, then lifted the dog onto his knees. One-Eye was relieved, but then he saw that her whole body was moving, except for the knife-wielding arm, which was stuck on his neck like a still sculpture. The elbow joint even turned in the opposite direction, which made him frown.

"You don't need to use an invisible assassin to deal with a mercenary mage, really." The one-eyed man said in a low voice.

"Whatever you think." Cesar said, hugging Gouzi's waist. She sat casually, her long legs folded, the tips of her black boots swinging back and forth, but her arm was still like a statue holding the knife on his neck.

"What exactly do you want?" asked the one-eyed man.

Cesar glanced at the dog. She was licking the blood from the corner of her mouth, but her eyes were still very excited. I'm afraid she would only be satisfied if he fed her One-Eye. She had indeed been hungry for many days, but things had not come to this point yet. So he cut her wrist and placed it between her two rows of sharp teeth as she smiled and opened them.

"There will be a large-scale battle in the northern fortress," he said. "The corpse eaters will move south, and the general who has fought against the Sasoulai for generations has also made an alliance with the nobles."

"I'd rather be doing mob suppression."

"There's truly no easier job than suppressing a mob." Cesar smiled at him. "First of all, I won't kill you, nor will I hire the Black Sword team for free."

"Really?"

"Secondly, if you intend to take your mercenary band to seek work elsewhere, I will not advance the unpaid wages of your deceased employer. I heard that the Black Sword's payday is approaching. Is that true, One-Eye?"

"this......."

"The war in the south is raging, and lords and nobles are everywhere, unable to pay their soldiers and instead letting them plunder. If you think someone with the money to hire you won't owe you a thing, then go ahead. Alternatively, you can make full use of your talent as a refugee and have all the mercenaries under your banner wander around with you, living a miserable life in the wilderness. From what I understand, Domini's economy is only just beginning to recover, and it will be a long time before Garcia can collect the money he owes you and recruit you back to the Casar Empire."

One-Eye stretched his neck, his eyes blazing. "But I heard your men are just a bunch of refugees who get paid very little. How much money can you afford to hire us?"

"Starting with Sodoris, the money will grow."

"But you said you would give all the money to Evered IV, and the rest will pass through your hands, then..."

"I didn't say the money would pass through my hands."

"Are you kidding?" The one-eyed man stared at him, "You don't want money?"

"I'll only take a few silver coins to buy my daily wine," Cesar said, relaxing in his chair. "All the money will either be donated to Evered IV, used to expand the army, or to maintain the operation of the territory. Do you understand?"

"Why did you join the war? You don't look like a knight with honor on his mind."

"I thought you wouldn't ask me this question. Is the Black Sword's information so ineffective?"

"The third princess?" One-Eye asked tentatively.

"I'm glad you can guess it."

"I heard from the Empire that Altinya is a spoiled princess." The one-eyed man narrowed his eyes again, but his fake eye couldn't close. The contrast between his two eyes, open and closed, was unpleasant. "She's running around for some illusory promise of love."

"I'm not familiar with the palace struggles within the Chancellor's sphere of influence, but the Empire's claims that she's spoiled and obsessed with love only speak volumes about her influence within the Chancellor's ranks. Don't you think the opposite might be true? Perhaps Altinya is exceptionally gifted and capable of significantly destabilizing their internal political situation? If it were a truly spoiled and useless princess, do you think anyone would care about her? She'd probably have been married off to a minister or distant relative long ago."

Cesar naturally didn't know the truth of the matter, but while he was making up stories at will, the prime minister himself would not come all the way to confront him.

The so-called palace struggle that cannot be spread outside means that outsiders can speculate and fabricate whatever they want. As long as it is not spread within the palace, no one will stand up to deny it.

"The rumor certainly has its implications," One-Eye agreed, "but if she were truly irreplaceable, why would she go south?"

"I won't ask too many questions," Cesar said, "but the reason for the previous division of the empire was a dispute over the throne. Knowing this, future generations will naturally handle their heirs with caution. If the prince or princess is mediocre and incompetent, it's fine. But if they are not mediocre and incompetent, and there is more than one, I'm afraid even their love affairs will be left to the maids and male favorites of clean backgrounds. Some people are unwilling to be trapped in the palace and will naturally seek other ways out."

"So she's the one leading the troops now?"

Cesar smiled at him, his mouth wide. "Soon, when Sodoris changes his master, you'll know the consequences of her leading the troops. The Prime Minister wants to take her back to the palace, but he doesn't dare to mobilize troops to force her. The General wants to capture her for marriage, but he can only send assassins and mages at night. Everyone who knows about her has feelings for her, but they dare to keep it secret. This just shows the legitimacy of her identity and the influence she has in the eyes of those who know her."

"You seem to have made a decision that could shake the alliance between the Southern Kingdoms and the Imperial Covenant." One-Eye said, looking at the heads on the table. "So, the Xisai School has also made a bet."

"Some self-righteous wizards and assassins," Cesar said, "have now perished in the wilderness. The cursed school you were wary of, their cursed successors are not far above us. Ever since I was forced to support her magical research, I have lost the ability to dream. Every night I wander the wilderness, and many of the prey you have caught are beyond your imagination."

The One-Eye looked at him carefully for a while, then asked, "Have you ever felt that some details in your memory don't match?"

Cesar paused, "I don't think so."

The mercenary mage furrowed his brow like an old tree root. "Consider it my prejudice," he said. "If possible, I don't want to interact with anyone from the Yestren School. I don't even want to speak to the successor, let alone share a room. I hope you'll treat me as just an ordinary mercenary leader. Don't come to me for matters unrelated to war, and I don't want to be associated with your magical research."

Cesar knew what the one-eyed man was hinting at. If he had known the secret of the Yestren School beforehand, he would never have considered contacting Diana. If he had made a mistake, the wizard who viewed people as books would have deleted his memory and rewritten his personality, turning him into a court noble who loved poetry and art.

Sutik of the Hisai school simply wanted to cut off his head and bring it back to the general as a gesture of goodwill, while the wizard of the Yesterlen school wanted to reshape him - just like reshaping a clay doll.

Once the spell was completed, he could no longer distinguish whether the thoughts in his mind were external thoughts or his own thoughts.

Given this system of magic and its methods, it's no surprise that the Yestren School is feared. Only the young nobles of Olidan, who knew nothing about it, still harbored a lingering admiration for Diana. Those who knew the truth, like Old One-Eye, practically treated her like a plague. But the Yestren School... Diana hadn't communicated with them lately, and it was unclear what they were thinking or doing. It's fair to say that Old One-Eye's attitude had also infected Cesar, making him extremely wary of the Yestren School.

Diana's school seemed to have no intention of expressing its stance in the Olidan Civil War, but perhaps for this reason, the Hisai school only sent one or two mages as a test. Cesar hoped that the two schools would be wary of each other and maintain a delicate balance; otherwise, he would have to reconsider many of his plans.

Chapter 218: Which one do you think is more serious?

......

It was foggy that morning, and the refugees huddled in street corners, staring blankly at the town's transformation. The squares and avenues were littered with smoke-stained artillery, the bodies of the local garrison, sacks of oats, stacks of hay, and piles of horse manure. The entire town had been transformed into a massive military barracks and stables. With no space for tents, they had to haphazardly arrange cots and marching kitchens.

Her dearest Royal Highness had spent a fortune clearing out the local taverns, moving the barrels out into the streets and distributing them as rewards to the various teams that had performed well. Some of the empty barrels were turned over to serve as dice tables. The streets were filled with laughter, shouting, crude abuse, and blasphemous songs of drunken men.

Artinia allowed the drunkards to sing whatever songs they pleased, but she had personally executed with her musket over a dozen mercenaries who had vandalized workshops and disrupted local production after the war. As a result, wherever she passed, the mercenaries fell silently. It was Cesar who had originally called for the harsh military law, and now that she had personally carried it out, he couldn't object.

While the mercenaries beat drums and blew trumpets, celebrating their victory the previous night and the days-long banquet, Altinia was already inspecting and replacing the heads of the various workshops and guilds. All personnel connected to the alderman's family were dismissed, replaced with local civilians, striving to sever existing connections. Much like Cesar had done in Gonzales, she would hand over responsibility to experienced foremen who understood the workings of the workshops.

Because the leader of the Black Swords did not step forward to lead the team, and because the attack came too suddenly, Sodoris was defeated on the spot with almost no effective resistance.

Cesar didn't know how exhausted the soldiers were from the night battle, but his journey through the wilderness was truly exhausting. Last night was another night in a region where time passed abnormally, and they had been trekking for over ten consecutive days. Before negotiating with the One-Eye, he had hoped to gather a team and leave the difficult tasks to others. However, with the reputation of the Yestren School, he would definitely not be able to rely on human mages anymore.

Cesar leaned his elbows on the windowsill, gazing out at the distant street. The dog also ended her mysterious ritual all night, closing her body and no longer blooming like a curious flower. She jumped off the bed in the alderman's mansion and came behind him in two or three steps, her eyes sweeping across the many places where corpses were piled up on the street.

"You can't eat it." Cesar said to her first.

"But I'm very hungry." Gou Zi said seriously, "If there are only one or two people, nothing will go wrong, right? There are so many corpses anyway, no one will notice if a few more living ones disappear." This guy is actually picky about food and must eat living things.

"If it doesn't work, you first..."

"No!" Before he could finish, the dog protested, "You always use only your mouth, but the different organs I mimic are strictly different. You can't experience full perception anywhere."

"If you want to do something," Cesar said, "you can think for yourself and take the initiative. For the sake of these days, I won't refuse you."

The dog was immediately lost in thought. "Okay... but you said initiative, but what exactly does it mean to be proactive? If you don't suggest it, how can I know what I should do?"

"No, weren't you very proactive in the mines of Neuen?"

"Is it to soothe your life and emotions?"

"how about yours?"

"I do not know."

Cesar took a deep breath and tried to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. He and the dog stood staring at each other for several minutes, but he finally gave in. "Will you express your love?" he asked.

She blinked, moved closer, rested her hands on his chest, sniffed him, stood on tiptoe, licked his mouth, bit his neck, then bent down and bit his waist. Cesar thought she looked like a puppy who didn't know what to do, biting and licking everywhere, or perhaps he should add that she was expressing herself like a human being.

A damp, hot smell of blood mixed with the smell of sour wine blew onto the terrace, and he couldn't help coughing twice.

"Why don't we go back to the bedroom?" he suggested.

"No, if I go back I won't be able to smell the stench of corpses and blood." The dog stuck out the tip of his tongue and licked the saliva at the corner of his mouth. "I want to roll around on a carpet made of fresh corpses. That way I'll be happy even if I don't do anything. Do you want that, Master?"

"I certainly don't want to," Cesar said insincerely.

"You're not telling the truth!" Gouzi pounced on him, hugged his neck, and bit it. A stream of sticky saliva mixed with blood flowed from the corner of her lips, covering his neck. "What exactly happened in the soul prison that night? At that time, your whole body was filled with desire, I've never seen it before! I want to release myself like that, too—tear off someone's limbs, arms? Or thighs? Bathed in that person's blood? Disassembled that person into pieces over and over again and put them back together like a rag doll? Pried off that person's head and used that bleeding, twitching throat?"

Cesar pressed his brows together, kneading his brow bones vigorously, trying his best not to get lost in memories.

Stop making trouble and control your emotions. I don't want to recall what happened back then."

"Control your emotions?" The dog tilted its head. "I don't understand that either. It's hard enough for you to let me express my emotions freely, how can I control them? Besides, weren't you filled with joy at that time, Master? Wouldn't it be better to enjoy it like this forever?"

Cesar felt he must be asking for trouble, giving up all the advantages he had in playing rhetoric with humans and demanding the Faceless One express herself openly. While he was still struggling with the memories within his soul prison, she took his hand and placed it on the smooth surface of her abdomen. His fingers brushed across her belly, feeling no resistance at all, then gently touched her raised lower body, rubbing it twice, like stroking silk.

The two petals were slightly raised, incredibly soft and tender, with a damp, wet feeling that made them slippery and sticky, like a bud still unopened, covered in morning dew in the mist. He hooked his finger slightly, and her delicate lips parted, sucking his finger into her saliva-soaked mouth, sinking it all the way to the end of the second knuckle. The touch there was so suffocating and tight that it momentarily made his normal thinking fall.

"Do you remember that you didn't allow me to call you Master?" Her eyes were bloodshot. "Do you remember what you said then? Compared to the desires you unleashed in your soul prison, which do you think is more serious?"

Chapter 219 Dancer

"You seem to be more..." Cesar felt that the dog was a little abnormal. "Did you get anything in that deep pit? I didn't notice it. I was not conscious at the time."

"I collected a lot of things in the pit!" she said excitedly. "Some body parts were so broken they were scattered everywhere. It was hard work picking them up. There were invisible assassins, furnace residue, and even mage minions. Each one has a unique flavor and unique memories."

"No wonder One-Eye thinks you are an invisible assassin..."

"Although I have no soul, I have mastered many of their skills," she declared. "As long as they are not skills from the Tao, others will not be able to tell the difference between me and the Invisible Assassin."

"Can a dead person's brain still have memories even if it's damaged?"

"No," Gouzi pointed out seriously, "They are not stored in the brain, but the memory of the body and flesh."

"Then let me see the Invisible Assassin," Cesar replied. He wanted to return to his bedroom to catch his breath. The terrace was filled with the smell of blood wafting from the street. He was still conscious, and if he stayed any longer, he would probably be infected, sinking deeper and deeper into the bloody and frenzied memories of his soul prison.

Gouzi's expression was slightly confused, but she saw him walking towards the bedroom and followed him without knowing why. Although this guy was very persistent at the moment, she would forget everything about the past as soon as he talked about something else.

Cesar leaned back on the bed and watched Gouzi rummage through the alderman's wardrobe, unexpectedly finding some neatly arranged dresses and silk gauze gowns. As a powerful local noble, with control over the northern supply routes, it wasn't surprising that the alderman had such a taste for romance. However, the fact that she specifically sought out such clothing suggested that the invisible assassin's skills weren't solely about murder and stealth.

She first donned a veil, a deep red veil that looked as if it had been soaked in blood, barely covering her jaw and lips. Her upper body was a bright red silk corset, barely covering half of her chest. A lighter red silk net passed under her armpits, gently covering her front. Past her exposed waist, a long skirt embroidered with gold thread flared wide, trailing the ground. Occasionally, as she walked, a pair of slender feet, adorned with bells on their ankles, would appear.

The dancer began to dance. At first, she showed a languid posture and danced nonchalantly, her slender arms holding another pair of bells above her head, her fingers intertwined, making a soft, audible tinkling sound.

The pace of her dance suddenly quickened. Her eyes, listlessly looking ahead, suddenly shone from beneath her long golden lashes, her red eyes becoming clear and transparent, startlingly joyful, like the eyes of a wild animal. Her originally bent posture now swiftly straightened, and his gaze involuntarily shifted from her captivating eyes to her slender waist.

Because the bra was very short and the skirt was quite low, the dancer's white and smooth belly and soft waist were fully displayed. The round belly button was embedded in it like a pearl, attracting his attention. It contrasted with the snow-like skin and made it almost impossible to notice anything else.

The sound of the bells was clear and pleasant, and the rhythm changed quietly, as if it was a call.

The bells rang, and the dancer's arms rose high, her long, slender fingers reaching out to him, catching his gaze, then drawing back again, resting on her slowly twisting waist. Her waist was slender and smooth, outlining two fascinating curves, and her movements were filled with a strange rhythm that made her waist even more slender and soft.

The tinkling of the bells quickened, and so did the pace of her dance, carrying her body whirling in place. Her naked waist was like a thin, elastic snake, tightly entangling the gaze, never letting go. Her long, floor-length skirt fluttered lightly, revealing her arched, snow-white feet. She danced on tiptoe on the crimson carpet, making the bells at her ankles tinkle.

The dancer's arms intertwined, sometimes open as if inviting an embrace, sometimes joined overhead, fingers intertwined. Not only were bells ringing, but a strange song burst forth from her throat, like the call of a siren from myth. A pair of ripe fruits danced on the slender branches, swaying as if blown by the wind with each vigorous step. A pale red silk net covered her half-displayed beads, their tips bright red, protruding slightly from beneath the mesh, as if ready to break free from the constricting bodice at any moment.

She suddenly stopped, her waist slightly bent, and her eyes became tired again, which made her look quite pitiful. Then, a slight tremor spread from her head down to her fingertips and toes, and to every part of her body.

César could hardly speak as he watched her raise her neck, her hands interlaced above her head, her long, slender fingers woven together, causing the bell to vibrate softly, making a strange sound, like a butterfly fluttering among flowers, and then slowly stop again. This time, her eyes suddenly lost their luster, and she stepped lightly forward, with the bell making a low, fragile sound, and fell into his arms, like a warm snake wrapped around him.

The dancer leaned forward slightly, extending her hand. Her hazy gaze met his, her breathing soft and feeble, her breasts heaving and trembling against her chest, a snowy, moist sheen. Meanwhile, the blade had already emanated from beneath her waist, piercing his abdomen and reaching his throat, creating a line that could completely sever his upper body.

Cesar touched his throat which was aching slightly, glanced at the dog with a cunning look, and then looked at

To the scimitar pressed against her wrist.

"That last one kind of elevated it," he said, more or less sincerely.

Gouzi suddenly felt elated, revealing her true nature. She sat down in his arms, legs swinging. Cesar lifted her chin and kissed her, his fingers lightly touching the light-colored silk mesh, peeling back a little, and caressing her ripe fruit. She extended her split tongue to tease his, her waist curved like a crescent moon, and presented them to him in her bra. He twisted the half-exposed bead between two fingers of his right hand, kneading it wantonly. He also pressed his palm hard, holding the struggling fruit tightly, admiring its ever-changing shape between his fingers.

With his left hand, he lifted the crimson dress and caressed another flower, feeling the touch of his fingers becoming increasingly sticky and hot. They softly clamped around his index finger, wriggling around it, and soon sucked from the tip to the end, making his breath hot and his blood roar in his chest.

Soon, Gouzi had already slumped onto the quilt, her skirt lifted to the other side. Her round buttocks were raised in his palm, firm to the touch, with perfect curves and dazzling whiteness. The inside of her buttock groove was crystal smooth, the petals slightly open and closed, and her lips soaked with saliva bit his snake head, feeling soft and greasy.

Her eyes were blurred, and she gently pushed her buttocks against his palm like a puppy, and the encouraging action immediately made him take a deep breath. Cesar hugged those tempting round buttocks and squeezed hard, reaching the deepest point. Her buttocks made a light sound, and her buttocks slid to the sides, then slid back again, shaking and trembling.

Despite being mentally prepared, Cesar quickly discovered—though honestly, he wasn't surprised—that her grip was incredibly tight. He struggled, not retreating, but struggling. Just as he managed to wriggle free, he saw her lips part, their lips, sucking on him tightly, protruding outwards, still clinging to him tightly. Then, as if he were loosening his grip, she tugged back, her round white bottom trembling and shaking with a soft sound.

This buttock was truly breathtakingly beautiful, just right in every sense of the word, neither overripe nor raw, firm and tender, and when his fingers gripped it tightly, it felt like it could drip with water. Cesar, her entangled consciousness confused, reached out and slapped it hard. The echo made it sway even more beautifully, and he bit it even tighter.

Honestly, the structure of the Faceless One's body was fundamentally different from that of an ordinary creature. He didn't need to do anything, just holding her tightly, and he could still feel everything. His persistence was probably due to his human nature.

Cesar's movements weren't intense, but he was already tense. If he hadn't, everything would have gone limp, except for the tortured snake. He held her delicate waist tightly, feeling the temperature in her body gradually rise, the feeling of being wrapped in her body becoming tighter and tighter, every inch of his snake scales experiencing constant friction.

The intense irritation spread throughout his body like poisonous blood, extending to his fingertips and even his scalp.

The dog absorbed all the venom, leaving no room for anything. Blushing, she turned back to kiss him, letting his nose lift the thin veil, silencing all his words and breaths. Her breath was bloody, and her tongue trembled like a hummingbird, stirring his desire and soon absorbing another large amount of venom.

Soon, she had pushed him onto the bed. Cesar wanted to say that if he had lost blood, it would have been like severing several major arteries, but she was so excited that he decided to surrender.

The dog took his finger in his mouth, licking it with the tip of his tongue, and gently twisted his waist, like an enchanting water snake dancing to the sound of bells. Now it wasn't just the friction inside her body; the intertwined squeezing sensation came from outside her body. Her narrow shoulders tilted with her waist, and her slender waist swayed with her hips. The bite became tighter and tighter, even taking on a rotating force, grinding and pressing.

This bizarre movement lasted for a long time, leaving him dumbfounded and his consciousness growing increasingly confused. The sun had already risen to its highest point in the sky, piercing the morning mist with beams of dazzling sunlight, but he was still immersed in the gradually spreading pleasure. The feeling was so intense, like being deeply drunk and still enjoying one drink after another, or even jumping into the wine vat and drowning from head to toe. As for whether he would drown or struggle out in the end, it was hard to say.

Chapter 220: Do you dare to eat it?

......