Shadow of the Evil God

After passing many tombs leading to the abyss and examining many suspension bridges where imperial knights had charged one after another, they found a suspension bridge relatively close to the edge.

The tomb leading to this suspension bridge was located at a very high altitude, requiring a leap of over ten meters to reach the cliffs in front of the bridge. The cliffs on both sides were also very narrow, making it difficult to pass. There were few people, whether they were the knights of the Empire or the beastmen from the memories. Only a few snake-walkers would occasionally cast their gazes, piercing entire lines of people with metal spears thrown like cannonballs.

Cesar and Milava leaped from the tomb, their boots crushing a few rocks on the cliff. However, this spot had been trampled many times by leaping knights, leaving rubble scattered everywhere and the air filled with ashes kicked up by the shaking. While it couldn't compare to the magnificent battle for the bridge farther away, this drawbridge was still littered with corpses and stained with blood. Death hovered like a dark cloud, appearing and disappearing.

"I really want to burn down that twisted wall of people." Milawa said softly, his voice filled with excitement.

Cesar had no problem with the wall, but he longed to know what lay on the other side. He wondered what had become of the Wise One, what would happen when the remaining dragon met the dragon in Milava, and what had Iskrig brought in, and what had become of it.

The answer to each puzzle seemed to hold a link to an ancient and terrifying secret, requiring careful consideration. But he had already reached this point, and turning back was impossible, not to mention wanting to. The Milava beside him needed to reach her end, transitioning from a fleeting memory into the real Milava. Diana's bloodline and the source of the Yestren School's terror also needed to be severed. Even the secrets of Old Thane Castle lay hidden within.

Even the blood and bones that led the corpse eaters to attack the city are attacking this giant wall, trying to reach the end of the tomb. Why can't he?

He stared at the ancient beastmen constantly emerging from the remnants of memory on the other side of the suspension bridge, and glanced at a group of snake walkers floating near the suspension bridge. From the time the snake walkers took the metal spears of the corpse eaters to the time they threw them, it took a certain amount of time, just like there was a gap in the firing of artillery, and this gap could be exploited.

Cesar had already identified the ancient secrets hidden behind this massive wall and hoped that this was the only correct choice. As for what to do once he finally arrived, he had no idea. There would likely be even more brutal slaughter and fighting, but then he would pass through the remnants of his memories, and Sevra would also pass through reality. Then, their hands would touch, and whether she wanted to or not, facing this unmanageable crisis, joining him would be her only and final choice.

In fact, neither of them wants to be each other, but their existence after being combined is indeed the most perfect.

Miraval called back the many knights who had leaped from the tomb, and took the lead in donning armor and raising his shield. He and Cesar began to observe the opportunity and prepare the team to charge the bridge. The battlefield in the distance became more and more tragic, and the roar and scream of war became more intense, becoming louder and more terrifying.

Smoke and dust filled the air, nearly obscuring the abyss and transforming the entire dark abyss into a dusty cloud. Arlanda stopped screaming, even though the hilt of her sword was soaked with sweat, she didn't react, as if she thought Cesar would throw her into the abyss in a fit of rage.

Seeing the nearby group of snake walkers complete a throw and descend almost simultaneously, Milava, who had been advancing slowly, suddenly broke into a trot, not forgetting to grab Cesar and signal the knights behind them to follow in an orderly manner, marching together towards the drawbridge covered with corpses.

It had to be said that this suspension bridge looked incredibly sturdy, having weathered the ravages of time and war yet remained as intact as new. However, its sway was truly alarming. The terrifying iron chains swung them left and right, and after just a short distance, Cesar wanted to cry out in pain. He had fought in many battles, but he had never experienced a naval battle. This suspension bridge gave him the same feeling as a naval battle, especially one that took place amidst torrential rain and an impending tsunami.

The massive wall of Kuna, bearing the brunt of the beastmen's assault, stood at the end of the suspension bridge. Countless peaceful faces lost their serenity, replaced by expressions of rage, spreading like a plague across the massive wall that treated the Kuna like bricks and stones. Beneath these pale, eerie faces lay broken bodies, twisted limbs, and fluttering tentacles. Organs connected, human bodies lost their boundaries, and bone and flesh merged into one another, conveying a terrifying and oppressive harmony.

All individuals are part of the subject, all consciousness is the same consciousness, and there are no boundaries.

The Beastmen standing opposite the Kuna struggled to tear at the masonry of the massive wall, but more Beastmen continued to emerge from their remnants, turning their backs and charging in the opposite direction. They wanted to keep the Franks—a people stuck between the Beastmen and the Kuna, neither savage nor peaceful, or perhaps both—out. Halfway down the suspension bridge stood the group that had once invaded the capital of the Frank Empire. Beasts thronged the area, stretching all the way to the cliffs on the other side of the abyssal chasm.

Chapter 470: Infect Me with Your Blood

The suspension bridge swayed even more violently. It spanned the abyss, and dust and fog thickened on both sides, giving the impression of stepping on a deck heaving in a storm. They trotted across, five in a row, hundreds of pairs of boots rumbling against the planks of unknown material. The same beastmen who had attacked the Fran Empire in the past also surged toward the center of the bridge, charging toward the battle line crossing it.

When searching for Ferrieres through his memories, Cesar had dismissed the beastmen who attacked the palace as ancient remnants and had managed to avoid them. Now, these ancient memories were blocking his path, forcing him to confront them. It felt absurd and unavoidable.

These ancient beastmen were no pushovers. As Milava had said, their demise wasn't due to weakness, but rather to their illustrious military exploits and bloodshed. Consequently, the Fran Empire targeted them and exterminated them.

Although it is not known whether the blood and bones have spread ideological plague here, the ethnic hatred they felt when attacking the palace is enough for them to stand here without retreating.

A massive cat, its scaly back streaked with spikes, leaped forward, clutching the knights on either side as it rolled into the abyss, even if pierced by a spear. A bison, with ape-like bodies, wielded clubs like tree trunks, shattering wooden shields, denting metal, and sending men flying into the air. Cesar recognized the latter as one of Nauzog's kind. As warriors of the true gods, even if their tribe perished, some individuals would be remembered, practically immortal. It's no wonder that the Beastmen embraced a ritualistic approach to death.

A large number of hybrids fought back with Imperial shields and armor, while those behind them hurled hand axes, spears, and beasts. These projectiles were not as impressive as the giants hurled by the snake walkers, but their numbers were astonishing, and the buzzing sound they made was like a plague of locusts.

It was clear that these two groups of Beastmen had been the main force in many of the wars back then, even outnumbering the deformed hybrids, even occupying the very edge of the suspension bridge. On other, wider suspension bridges, even more groups of Beastmen and Imperial Knights were huddled together for battle, but none were as large as these two groups.

The beastmen tore the fallen knights apart, roaring and hurling their severed heads back at the enemy lines. The Frankish knights, shields raised to block the spears and axes, hurled back the heads. But these weren't human heads; they were the heads of wild beasts severed in the clash, their eyes pierced and their features torn apart by their gauntlets. The hybrid beastmen paid no heed, but the ravaged races were enraged.

Milava thrust his sword into the heart of a giant bison and ordered two knights to push the bull forward with their shields, using it as a giant shield.

"Back in the day, in the lands bordering the Empire and the North, the Beastmen and the Franks always imitated each other." The young emperor's voice was muffled by his armor. "The beasts imitated the humans, and the humans imitated the beasts."

"What about you?" Cesar asked him.

"Respond to Helgast's will."

Milava sprinted forward, leaping over the beastman he'd just slain, uncaring of its massive shield. He fastened his visor, clutching the dead knight's sword, and, stepping over the blood-soaked bridge planks, charged toward the next roaring beastman. The knight, shield raised, was a wall of stone, and he lunged through it like a wedge driven into the enemy's ranks.

Before, when old Milava was fighting, Cesar had only cast a few glances at him and had never paid much attention. Now, seeing this young man in armor, he felt a strong desire to live and die in the selfless blood battle.

Is this the alternative destination this guy longs for? Or perhaps another ending? If Zagaros's will is endless change, what is Helgast's will? Endless conflict?

While the snake walkers were still twitching, Milava, clad in blood-stained armor, stepped forward, confronting the frenzied beasts head-on, targeting the strongest link in the enemy chain. The knights behind him, on the other hand, constantly sought the weakest link in the enemy chain, hoping to break through it and help Milava create a gap.

The young emperor simply swung his sword, trying to inflict as much damage as possible, completely ignoring the bleeding wounds on his body. His armor chains were so tight that it seemed as if as long as the armor could maintain its human form, even if his neck was broken, he could still continue to advance and attack the beastmen's defenses.

The battle lines converged in the center of the drawbridge. Not only were the beastmen roaring, but the knights were also screaming and howling. The clash of weapons and the tearing of flesh echoed every moment, like the song of ghosts. Cold light flashed, blood splattered, and corpses fell, then were trampled and kicked into the abyss.

Cesar followed the young emperor, who was responding to the will of the god of war and conflict, and slashed his sword across a beast. He only made a slight wound, and then he saw the creature fall dead, without even a splash of blood, only a thin layer of ice covering the cold gap.

A knight stepped forward, and the beast's body cracked like ice. Cesar saw Milava take a step back before a large shadow. He took two steps forward and used his shoulder to knock back something that looked more like a lizard than a cat, sending the massive beast sprawling backward. Milava immediately thrust his sword downward, pulling it free from its throat.

"I am still too short now." Milawa's voice rang out in the noisy battlefield. "Old Milawa is too short at this age.

I am still traveling and studying in various schools, but I can do better than him."

Seeing the snake crawlers rising higher and higher, they lacked mages or temple priests, so they could only rush forward as quickly as possible. A beastman, who had besieged Firiels in their memories, stood over ten meters away, scimitar in hand, staring intently at Milava, seemingly ready for a duel. But Milava ducked, waved his hand forward, and a dozen spears blocked the creature's path. He tried to block and dodge, but was still pierced by a volley of spears, plummeting into the abyss.

"And I actually don't like sword fighting." The young emperor took advantage of the chaos and slashed with his sword again, calling on the knights to seize the opportunity to pounce on the enemy.

At this moment, a violent whistling sound shook his eardrums. Cesar had no time to look up, so he just fell to the ground with Milava, and then he felt a huge metal spear passing over his head, whistling like a cannonball.

The metal spears hurled by the Snake Walker created a violent blast of air that not only pierced a series of knights, pinning them to the cracks of the drawbridge, but also shook those on both sides so that they were unable to stand steadily. The bodies on the bridge were shaken off the edge and fell into the abyss.

Before anyone could react to the first shadowy strike, a second and a third followed. Cesar felt as if the entire ten-plus-meter-long line had been completely razed to the ground. The metal spears pierced through bodies and armor unimpeded. The knights, pierced and dragged into the abyss, looked like chickens on barbecue skewers.

The sound was not much different from being hit by a round of artillery fire.

Milava seemed to sense the Beastmen were about to retake this section of the drawbridge. She took a shuddering breath, bent her knees, and raised her upper body. Then, with a sweeping blow from bottom to top, she slashed the leading Beastman diagonally across the hips and waist. The other half of its body spun a half circle, spilling blood several meters before falling into the abyss.

The young emperor was about to advance when two javelins suddenly whizzed past, piercing his abdomen and throat through the cracks in his armor. This signaled a torrent of axes and spears from the Beastmen's rear, a swarm of locusts. Cesar grabbed the massive ape-like bison with one hand and lifted it by the waist, blocking them. Together, he and Milava used Nauzog's ancient kin as a giant shield, slashing at the Beastmen charging from either side of the corpse.

As someone secured the front, the knights, more than ten meters behind them, immediately charged, responding to the beastmen's attack with even more frantic howls. A spear emerged from the burly ape's body, glancing across Cesar's cheek, leaving a gash. Another longsword slashed through his side, nearly severing his waist. The flashes of cold light were too numerous to count, and he could only partially deflect them.

By the time the knights in the rear joined the battle line, Cesar felt that his body was covered in holes and gaping wounds, and it was a miracle that he could still maintain his human form. Milava knelt on the spot, unable to speak because of the blood gushing from his throat.

Seeing that the young emperor was about to stand up and fight, Cesar immediately put down the giant beastman that had been stabbed to pieces and placed it on top of the two of them. The fur full of holes covered their entire bodies like a huge blanket, and the internal organs had already been scattered all over the ground, and the blood of the beast naturally soaked them all.

Milava frowned, looking at him in confusion.

"Even immortality needs to recover. You're not old Milava. Those bloody battles were just your foresight, not your actual experience." Cesar squeezed out these words, using the animal carcass as a cover to remove his visor and press his throat. Bleeding continued, but he remembered that even a severed head from old Milava could stop the bleeding on its own. So, this guy hadn't actually learned everything Milava mastered back then.

Milava managed to catch her breath. "Just some scrapes, soon..."

Although the hides shrouded them like a curtain, Cesar could still see the stalemated battle line, four or five meters in front of them, through the flickering light and shadows. He could see the slashing swords, hear the clanging of blades, and smell the different smells of blood.

All of this looked hazy through the animal skin, like an oil painting on a scroll, distant and beautiful.

At present, the two of them are pretending to be dead, but this kind of pretending to be dead cannot last long. The next time the front line is defeated and returns to this side, they will have to get up.

"There was a cut on your hand, and the blood flowed to the wound in my throat..." Milawa added, his eyes filled with wonder, "Just like the salvation that was destined to happen in the story. When I was still a master, you took me through these shortcuts, step by step, to overcome the old and decayed Milawa."

This guy truly enjoyed finding meaning in accidents and coincidences, but Cesar could only nod. Different people deserve different kinds of encouragement. The young emperor then closed his eyes, squeezing out the blood. He then removed his armor, its chains tattered, leaving only its equally tattered lining clinging to his blood-soaked body.

Cesar gripped Milava's slender waist, feeling their wounds touching, their blood mingling. He'd thought this guy would be infected by the bloody and frenzied atmosphere, but he saw him close his eyes, his hand on his chest, and remain silent. Against the bright red, bloody air, he looked like a damsel in distress.

"Please touch me, Master," he whispered, so softly that he looked like a fairy. "Infect me with your blood..."

"You can be less passive..."

"The smell of blood can drive people crazy, I don't know

How to face it outside the battlefield."

Cesar only felt that this guy had a temperament that attracted people to abuse him. The more obvious his authority on the battlefield and in the imperial power, the more passive the temperament hidden behind it became. Even when he was wearing a knight's inner armor and holding a long sword, it was as if he was tied up with ropes and allowed others to do whatever they wanted.

Old Milava was indeed able to gradually overcome these shadows as he grew up, but it should be impossible for this guy that Allandi cut out from old Milava's soul.

Cesar knew where the guy's injuries were mainly, and he also knew that healing his wounds as quickly as possible would allow him to return to the front line as soon as possible, so he said no more. He turned his body around and peeled off his lining from behind.

In the dim light and shadow, his white figure was stained with blood and covered with wounds, but his skin still felt as smooth as jade, emitting a hazy luster under the blood. Although he still covered his chest, his narrow shoulders were astonishingly delicate, his back was as smooth as if polished, and his waist was slender and beautiful. A sword wound extended from his spine all the way to his lower back, almost revealing the bone.

As Cesar stroked down along the wound, he saw the young emperor hugging his shoulders with his arms, suppressing his breathing and enduring the numbness and itchiness from the rapidly closing wound.

As his blood-stained hands slid over Milawa's body, his abdomen heaved and his lips tightened. Blood seeped down his lower back and slid across the crack of his buttocks. The streams of blood looked like tattoos on his round buttocks, converging on the smooth groove of his buttocks.

Milava still had her eyes closed, her arms folded across her shoulders, but she gradually lost control of her breathing. She knelt on the ground, as if praying to the gods for forgiveness of her sins. This damsel-in-distress pose contrasted sharply with the blood-soaked battlefield, making Cesar think he was in a bizarre dream. He also felt a subtle sense of guilt, because this figure, wavering between girl and boy, was so ethereal. Clearly a person, he felt like a shifting dream spirit.

Only after Cesar had put on his inner garments and tied the padded armor tightly, completely covering his once again prominent chest, did he open his eyes and turn his head to him, "I thought you wouldn't be able to resist your desire."

Besides, this guy is also very good at teasing without any hesitation.

"The battle is too intense. We can't play dead for too long, and we are on the same side," Cesar said.

Milava nodded slightly and put on her armor with his help. "Then next time one of us captures the other, we'll see who can't resist."

There was another crazy roar, and Cesar fell to the ground holding the young emperor, watching the Snake Walker's spear pierce through a series of knights and stuck tightly in the gap of the suspension bridge beside them.

The bridge swayed wildly, and swords flashed once more. It seemed the battle line, so hard fought, was about to reclaim its former self. Milava cupped his face, pressed her blood-stained lips to his, and then, as if avenged, she dropped her armor, stood up, and with a single blow, pierced both the hide and the flying beastman. Cesar now only hoped this fellow's claim to being able to fight alone was true, or else his other student would have grasped something truly remarkable.

He saw the long sword in his hand hum and tremble twice, and without caring what Allandi wanted to say, he plunged the sword into the abdominal cavity in front of him, crushing the internal organs and pulling them out with the frozen dirt. The sword suddenly screamed even more violently.

Chapter 471 The Old Emperor and the Young Emperor

......

The lingering memories were so close to reality that Sevra could already see Cesar at the very edge of the drawbridge—even though she was also carrying a Cesar on her shoulder. This meant a lot, but for now, it meant nothing to her. Her style on the battlefield was similar to the siege of Noyen. Charging into battle like a knight had never been her thing; lurking in the rear to clean up an entire camp was more her style.

She and Cesar had completely diverged in their choices, so supporting each other through a difficult period was impossible, and it was rare for them to go their separate ways and eventually meet. If they had to stand together, there was only one possibility, and that was to forcibly put one soul in each body back together.

Now that Cesar had found a path that suited him, it was time for her to find one that suited hers.

Sevra stepped on corpses and blood as he walked toward the cliffs at the edge of the abyss, gradually moving away from the suspension bridge and the center of the battlefield. In the distance, the Kuna wall undulated, occasionally emitting solemn and majestic holy words, which strangely merged with the roars of the beastmen, influencing and shaking the Franks on the battlefield from both directions.

Aya, who was covering her head, was among them.

A bloody wind, carrying the chill of the abyssal tide, blew fiercely along the edge of the chasm, sending a heavy downpour of blood cascading down from the sky. Sevra reached out to catch a few drops and discovered they were tears of blood from the Kunar Wall.

"This is the direction..." said the Kuna man, who was either Jiralo or the wise man. Sefula stepped forward, and after searching for a while with Ajeh, they finally parted a patch of dead brush and found a low entrance in a crevice in the cliff face. The entrance extended down along the cliff face, much like the path César had taken to find Soler's house.

Sephora carried Cesar, and Ajeh supported Aya, who had been tormented by the two voices and lost consciousness. The two of them followed Jiralo's slow pace down the stairs. The tide of the abyss rose and fell just outside the crack, pounding the rock wall like the sea, and making a sound like the howling of ghosts in the wind.

"Write the sigil on the stone slab, turn it three times, and the door will open. Choose the upper crack among the cracks that extend in all directions. Walk forward thirty steps and then go down the fifth step on the left." Jiralo muttered to himself, following his instructions. He first used the sigil to open a stone wall, then led them on a long walk along the paths that extended in all directions through the cracks.

By the time Jiralo's mumbling became indistinct, the once wide steps had become a narrow gap, requiring sideways movement to pass through. Even the steps disappeared halfway, as if they were exploring a narrow cave that no one had ever passed through. If someone hadn't pointed her out, telling her that this secret passage connected the two sides of the abyss, Sevra would have thought this road was a dead end and that continuing would be a waste of time.

Once he squeezed through the crack, Sephora found himself standing on the edge of a dark, swirling undertow. Just a step away lay the swirling mist and eroded rock, a feeling like standing before a river dam about to burst. Ancient spells were carved into the rock, holding back the abyssal tide that would otherwise have flooded over it.

A man who was not unexpected to Sevra was waiting on the stone platform.

Jiralo slowly approached, locking eyes with old Milava for a long moment. Milava sat leaning against the rock face, his hands still stained with blood. Sephora had expected Milava, after all he'd been through, to become dejected, if not limp, then at least exhausted, his gaze vacant. However, he looked not only calmer than the Milava in his lingering memories, but even the hesitation in his gaze had completely vanished.

"Need I say something, servant of Firiel?" Milava said. "From my earliest memories, it seems you treated the entire world like your slaughterhouse. So, what brings you here, to discover how your slaughterhouse works?"

"You might as well worry about your own fate, Emperor," Sevra said.

"My whereabouts are of no concern to others, but I would like to know if this slaughterhouse suits your taste, demon from outside the world?"

"Milavar, who is younger than you, is already standing in the center of the drawbridge, directing the knights forward."

"The shadow of the past that made me hesitate has finally left me, that's all." Milawa said as he stood up. He looked tall and strong under the armor, far superior to ordinary people, like a giant, a noble of the Kuna people.

"A person must eventually move on from the shadow of childhood," the old emperor continued. "Not only did my immature queen fail to realize this, she even cut off my shadow as if it were my true self. Now it seems I should be grateful for her willfulness and recklessness. After losing my childhood, I have become a better person."

"Cesar and I both think we are the main body." Sephora shook his head and said, "But neither of us is the main body."

"This is just an excuse after the fact," Milava also shook her head. "Back then, you repeatedly killed your alter ego, wanting to devour him completely. You almost succeeded. If Allandi hadn't repeatedly summoned his soul, leaving you with nothing, Cesar would have long since ceased to exist, and you would have achieved perfection long ago."

Sevra pinched the clothes on her arm, wringing out a stream of blood. She remembered the time Ajeh had acted as a bridge, squeezing them both into one body, once on the walls of Noyen, and once in the abyssal tides outside the fortress.

"I don't need perfection," she denied. "I have

I've experienced it, so now I can tell you I don't need it."

"I'll assume you're not lying, servant of Phirius. You can certainly say you don't need perfection, just as I no longer need the young Mile. However, if the two selves don't merge, they will clash, like a double-edged sword piercing the flesh of both. Now, I can go wherever I want, but another self is calling me to kill him, to deny him, lest he eventually become her. What a terrible shame! This feeling tells me that you share the same strong desire."

Lately, it seemed like everyone was trying to bring out what she'd tried to keep buried. First, Ajeh told her about the past, then Milava, in a similar situation, spoke of her destined fate.

She could say that Ajeh was a maniac who was eager for stage performances, looking forward to the most intense conflicts and contradictions, so she didn't need to consider Ajeh's views. However, Milava was different. This guy had experienced losses similar to hers, and the emptiness and longing she felt were also present in him.

If they are not integrated, it will arouse murderous intent and conflict.

"How interesting, old emperor," Ajeh laughed. "Faced with the temptation to step out of the grave and rebuild the empire, you choose to cross the abyss and strike the shadow of your childhood?"

"You're not just wielding a sword against the shadow of my childhood, Beastman," Milava said gravely. "The Tomb of the Wise is doomed to destruction. Rather than surrender it to the beasts, I, standing between them, must accept it. My soul and the remnants of my memories have long since merged into the tomb, awaiting the day of destruction. This sewn-up head is but a convenient key. Even without it, I would have accepted this belated gift."

"Indeed," Giralo nodded. "It is my mission to guide you, Emperor of the Franks. But something terrible has damaged my sanity, causing me to do things I shouldn't have done. I never anticipated how things would develop to this point because of the people I brought with me."

Now it seems that when Jiralo was mumbling about taking her to the Tomb of the Wise, he was actually entrusted with a mission by the Wise. It was not his mission, but a mission given to him by the Wise. The Wise ordered him to meet the Chosen One, Milava, at the edge of the abyss.

"Has the ancient plan gone awry again because of our Cesar?" Ajeh became more interested.

Milava shook her head and set off, following the rock pillars that spanned the abyss, hidden by the dark tide. "The shadow of my childhood recognized this man as a teacher, and thought he would wear the crown through this."

"If you're proud enough, you don't care whether a child wears the crown or not," said Sephora.

"No," Milava denied. "The most absurd thing is that no matter how foolish a person is, as long as you put a crown on him and surround him with a bunch of liars to flatter him for half his life, he will think he is truly the emperor chosen by God. The Kasar Empire has been run like this for over a thousand years - the liars of the Temple and their stupid puppets, how pathetic."

"Can you resolve your own conflict?" Sevra frowned. "I don't care who wears the crown, nor do I care which Milava will be the future emperor. I only wish to burn down this disgusting wall of humanity and clean up the cesspool of filth behind it. The world doesn't need them."

The Kuna, who was either Jiralo or the wise man, widened his eyes. "As the last royal family and the last princess of the Kuna people, even if you are an evil demon from another world, you shouldn't say such words to your own people!"

Ajeh glanced at him. "Your grave is doomed. Someone has to do it. Wouldn't it be better for one of your kind to do it than a beast?" she asked. "Besides, isn't your sanity damaged the biggest problem now? Do you know what damaged your sanity, old man?"

"Unimaginable things." The mentally damaged sage gasped. "I have lost the ability to accurately describe them."