Shadow of the Evil God

"You like to bite?" Diana responded. "Well, when you start to like using a plate and knife and fork, we can have a civilized and wild discussion about eating and being eaten. Of course, I am a fair person. If you use a plate and knife and fork, I will also take a piece of meat from you."

"Your long speeches are still as annoying as ever, Miss Mage."

"Isn't it because you're always looking for trouble?" She raised her eyebrows. "I can see that there are many people and things in this world that you dislike, but for each of us, there are also many people and things in this world that we dislike. Your era is full of genocidal wars, allowing you to threaten and kill at will, but in this era, nothing is yet to be determined. At least—I say at least, you can see what kind of world Cesar wants, right?"

"I've seen some of his memories."

"A new and unknown place." Diana said thoughtfully, "There is a lot of knowledge worth exploring."

"What an empty and boring place." Ajiehe looked indifferent.

"Forget it. With your personality, any world seems empty and boring to you," Diana exclaimed. "I know you've been involved in high-level politics in the Kasar Empire for a long time, especially in the last decade or so. You've practically been the source of the bloody scent on Ferrieres' body, killing countless political enemies and spies for her. Based on my personal request, could you please pick up the sharp blade you used back then and solve some of our problems today?"

"You are somewhat arbitrary in your use of people, Miss Mage."

Chapter 494: Puppet Master

Diana walked toward the dense forest, her hand caressing the ancient trees on either side, listening to the echoes of a bygone era. "These are turbulent times, and we must utilize every available means. I don't want to unnecessarily incite you, but every step we take north brings us closer to Grandmaster Ferrieres. To confront her, the conflict will not only be between individuals, but also between regimes."

"What do you want to tell me? Is the current Kasar Empire part of her soul?"

Diana glanced toward the north. "Given all the evidence revealed now, it would be ridiculous to say otherwise. Since she sat back and watched the empire split apart with indifference, I suspect the one who agreed with Grand Master Ferriers shouldn't be the Kasar Empire, but the Secret Sanctuary, the master of the royal puppet show."

It was the Holy Temple that granted the royal family power, and it was also the Holy Temple that had been dancing with the royal family's puppet strings for nearly a thousand years, writing a script for their seemingly magnificent but actually false and tragic lives. Now, it seems that the Kasar Empire...

“Puppetry is not fun,” said Ajeh.

"Let's put that aside for now," Diana said. "I believe the Hidden Sanctuary must have deeper ideas and purposes. It was these deeper ideas and purposes that prompted and convinced Ferrieres to grasp the puppet strings. This grip has lasted for nearly a thousand years. Their goal has been steadily advancing. Now, all signs indicate that the time of unveiling is approaching, and the puppets dancing on the stage are destined to look directly at the strings on their wrists."

"Your princess considers herself an Awakened One, yet you describe her as an ant in the clutches of fate. Since the puppeteer no longer hides the threads, he no longer cares whether the puppets can see them or not."

"That's a cruel statement, but I have to consider the cruelest possibility." Diana walked along the winding forest path. "In my opinion, Altinya is not only of royal blood, but also displays the characteristics of the Dragon's Dream in the Abyssal Tides. This means that she is different from other royal family members, and perhaps even very close to the Secret Sanctuary's vision."

"You're quite good at letting go of your human side and considering things purely from a political perspective." Ajeh peered at her from behind, feeling like a predatory beast about to bite her neck. "Your human and political personalities are quite neatly separated, Miss Mage?"

"Any questions?"

"If Alanti comes and stabs you, I guarantee there will be two completely opposite versions of you standing here."

"Sounds interesting," Diana said simply. "Of course, the royal bloodline that the Hidden Temple values ​​most must be in the north, in other words, where Grand Master Firiel resides. But I believe that everything Altinia has gone through so far means she has the ability to fight for legitimacy. This struggle has two directions. We have already proven one of these directions during the erosion of the Abyssal Tide, but this alone is not enough."

Ajehe tilted her head, the hood of her cloak rustling against a branch. "Your words are dangerous, Miss Mage. Do you intend to meddle in, or even interfere with, the planning of the Secret Sanctuary?"

Diana knocked on a tree stump beside the path, sending an invisible ripple through the surrounding area. She used the echo to identify her direction. "I was born too late, and the time I have available is too brief. No matter how I draw up a blueprint, it will be too late to complete everything before the horrors revealed by the omens arrive. Right now, war is raging everywhere, and the empire is shattered. We have hope of building a powerful secular force, but if we only focus on this one thing, we will only stop here."

"Twisted fantasies..." Ajiehe hissed, "You may appear gentle and refined, but the madness in your heart is no less than Cesar's."

"I'm discussing survival and hope," Diana shook her head. "If we don't want to stop here, we must use secular power as a sharp blade to pierce the Secret Temple, which is busy with its own far-reaching goals and has no time to care about anything else. You can also see that the continued existence of the Kasar Empire is actually entirely due to the royal puppet show of the Secret Temple and the authority of Ferrieres. But from a secular perspective, an empire that has lasted for nearly a thousand years has become so bloated that a rebellion by a group of hybrid beastmen can cause it to fall apart. Even the Temple itself has split into several factions, each supporting a piece of territory."

"A regime so stable that even the Secret Sanctuary and Ferriers have to treat it with caution, is that the weapon you envision?"

"Personally, I think the shattering of the empire isn't conducive to fulfilling their hopes," Diana told Ajeh. "Rather than allowing the empire to crumble, this is more like a struggle after being unable to maintain it. From many of Altinia's stories, we can see the Secret Sanctuary's hope of maintaining the stability of the empire. Their influence can be seen in every large-scale rebellion."

"A piece of rag with hundreds of patches finally broke," said Ajeh.

"This is how I see the Kasar Empire. The Secret Temple, in my opinion, is most likely the continuation of a certain mage group. You know, those crazy mage groups from another sunken land. These mage groups are characterized by both crazy political ideals and the ability to realize them, but their philosophies... in Cesar's words, are floating in the sky. For many years, besides manipulating the royal family, suppressing rebellions, and training spies, what else have they done?"

"You want to say they have no insight into secular regimes."

"I do think so. Just look at the several territories that have been split off from the Empire, and you can see the attitudes of the various factions within the Secret Temple. Clifas has lived too long under the shadow of the steppe people and wants to return to their imagined past, believing that the iron and blood of war can reshape the imperial order and make everyone as obedient as the original citizens of the Empire. As for the Chancellor, it's clear that some are blindly imitating the new order of the southern kingdoms. The north, where Grandmaster Ferriers resides, is an even more shabby place. They possess the largest army, but can only claim legitimacy by relying on the capital, and so far no one has come to acknowledge them."

"You look down on them?"

"On the secular level," Diana shrugged. "The Kasar Empire, bloated beyond sustenance, is falling apart. Meanwhile, the various factions of the Secret Temple are in disarray. Their common trait is that they are aloof in the secular realm, but like a bunch of headless flies in the secular realm. They don't understand power, neither how it operates nor how it is maintained. Some are like conservative old fools, firmly convinced that the past is good, while others are like children holding sharp knives, only knowing how to imitate the words and actions of adults."

"Like you, right?"

Diana covered her mouth and coughed softly. "I want you to focus, Ajeh."

"I didn't say shrug," Ajeh said. "Your understanding of power isn't necessarily particularly profound. You're just young, still on a path of confusion, exploration, and change. You happened to find Cesar and learned from his insights that the world has never known before. That's all. A child holding a sharp knife imitates the words and actions of an adult... Say it again, and then think about yourself, how about that?"

Diana sighed, "Perhaps, this is why my blood curse seeks him out...to seek the unknown that has never existed in this world."

"Not necessarily." said Ajiehe.

"not necessarily?"

"If it were simply because he came from an unknown background, Arlante wouldn't be the Queen of the Frank Empire. Instead, she would have given birth to a child with her servant and spent her life in the academy," Ajeh said. "Cesar wouldn't be your husband, but your distant ancestor."

"Why is that?" Diana asked with a frown.

"It's because Cesar came back here from the other side of the door," said Ajiehe.

Diana reached out to hold onto the trunk of the ancient tree, tapping her fingers slowly. "It seems you've experienced a lot and learned a lot in the Tomb of the Wise. However, let's discuss this after Cesar returns. Back at the Hidden Sanctuary, I believe they're at a crucial turning point, a point where everything will be realized, but also where everything will be destroyed."

"Live by relying on secular regimes, and die because of secular regimes?"

"Indeed," Diana smiled. "The empire is torn apart, the royal family is displaced. Never before have the puppets in the hands of the Holy Temple traveled so far, and never before have outsiders been so close to the Holy Temple's true nature. What if a secular regime that changed everything marched north and defeated the separatist empire supported by the various factions of the Secret Holy Temple? What if we first gained a firm foothold and then sat at the conference table with Altinia, who knew her secret identity? What do you think would happen?"

“Some factions of the Holy Temple who haven’t figured out who to support will support us.”

"This is how we get in," Diana nodded. "No matter how mysterious it is, or how long it has been in the shadows, the Secret Temple is ultimately an organization that has lasted for over a thousand years. It's divided into multiple factions, each with different ideas. Isn't it the same with the Pantheon? Cesar fostered his own faction in the temple of Sagaros, and this gave me inspiration - we can also use this method in the Secret Temple."

"They're puppeteers," Ajeh said indifferently. "These people have spent a thousand years figuring out how to manipulate puppets. This is how they approach everything in the world."

"Yes, this means that before we win them over, we need to consolidate ourselves and implement countermeasures. You should have noticed that there are an abnormal number of Imperial visitors to the fortress. Someone is observing us and exploring us, and further actions are interference and influence, even manipulation and disruption. This is dangerous, but it is also an opportunity that can be exploited. For this, I need you, - do you know why it is me and not us?" she asked.

"Because Cesar would just let me curl up in the depths of his soul."

Diana smiled, "Thanks for understanding."

Chapter 495 We Can Die Together

......

If one were to truly describe how much of the fork in the turbulent flow of time had vanished, Cesar only remembered the beginning. In those early days, he found a certain amusement in slaughtering everything that moved within the fork. The ghosts of ancient knights would swing their swords desperately, as if they were in a knightly tournament, and the distorted flesh would let out a frantic roar. After listening for a long time, it almost sounded like hoarse music, with a unique charm.

Sometimes, in this endless forking, he and Sevra would be wounded and dying, sometimes, they would take care of each other, but in the end, most of it became boring.

Most things lost their passion after the hundredth time, like the dull grind of waking up day after day. Although his and Sevra's memories and experiences continued to accumulate through their connection, those ancient spirits and deformed flesh remained unchanged, like grains of sand falling from an hourglass.

At some point, they went from being menacing shadows to pebbles rolling by his feet, and at some point, the cautious battle became an endless repetition. In the end, Cesar felt like he was just bending down again and again, picking up pebbles and throwing them away, until his arms were numb and his mind was exhausted, watching as this fork in the road finally reached complete silence, and then there was the next one, always the next one.

Cesar woke up at a new fork in the road, unable to remember how he died the previous time. It seemed as if the experiences of many forked roads had converged on one. In other words, many Cesars from different forked roads had died together, and all their memories and experiences had converged into one Cesar.

Memories and experiences from multiple forked roads suddenly flooded back. For a while, Cesar's mind was unclear, as if he were sinking to the bottom of a dark pond. He felt as if he had multiple selves heading in different directions, doing different things, muttering different words, his mind almost splitting apart. Later, due to endless emptiness and confusion, the experiences of these multiple forked roads converged into a single silence, aimless wandering, and the same collapse against the wall.

Unlike him, although Sevra felt the work on the way was empty and boring, he still had an unfading satisfaction in killing him. Lately, he had no desire to move. When he saw the deformed flesh spreading over him, he even wanted to rush in, fall into their terrifying buds, and experience what it felt like to be assimilated by them.

Would he have a pile of heads blooming on the roots of a giant tree? Or would he have many clones soaking in the sap of the plant? Cesar really wanted to know, even be interested, wanting to experience the experience of being a deformed flesh. But Sevra was not interested. Not only was she not interested, she would not allow him to go crazy.

In the recent hundred or so time forks, she had spent more than half of them trying to stop Cesar from seeking his own death, either by pulling him out of the bloated mass of flesh and blood, or by peeling him out of the rotten armor of the ancient ghost. Sometimes he could see her lighting a crude bonfire with firewood, cutting off those pieces of flesh and blood, roasting them into warm meat and feeding them to him, but no matter how silently she took care of him, it was ultimately for the moment of his death.

Cesar didn't know what kind of satisfaction Sephora felt, but even pain and death seemed empty and boring to him. Time and time again, the forks in the road reached their end, and again and again, they reached the beginning of another fork. He had witnessed every subtle difference and distinction between the forks countless times in countless experiences. This turbulent flow of time would no longer change. It was now just the two of them.

After the flood of memories subsided, Cesar found himself staring at a fruit tree made of more than ten human heads, with a ghost knight sitting next to him, not saying a word.

"Sevra..." he muttered. She's not here? This had never happened before. She always came to him first.

The knight took his hand and wrote a line of ancient writing. Cesar's mind was foggy, and he couldn't read it clearly, but the person seemed to say, "Death." After writing, the speechless knight leaned against the wall, pulled Cesar's cloak over him, and wrapped it around his rusted and peeling armor. Despite the rust and peeling armor, the man exuded a faint salty smell, very different from the odor of decay and decay of the other ghost knights.

This guy will seek out the springs flowing through the tomb to cleanse himself, Cesar thought dully. Since Sevra died first, what will he do? End his own life? The corridor was pitch black. The fruit tree, bearing more than a dozen human heads, lay motionless. A closer look revealed that the roots had been severed. The marks weren't from Sevra's blade, but rather from the rough marks of a sword.

Cesar turned his head and pulled the knight's sword from its scabbard, finding it rough, rusted, and covered in cracks, exactly like the scars on the deformed flesh. Why had he never noticed this ghostly knight? Had the knight in front of him killed Sevra? Had he also dealt with the deformed flesh?

He put back the rusty sword, but felt his right hand being lightly grasped by a gauntlet. Because it was too rusty, it fell apart the next moment, revealing a left hand that had been soaked in the grave stream not long ago.

The knight seemed unable to speak, as if he had no ability to speak at all, but the hand wrote another line on his hand, "Why do you always die?"

This time he felt it clearly.

As she was writing, Cesar turned sideways and stretched out his left hand to brush her visor, which was also peeling off due to rust.

He came over and just stared blankly. He saw a woman with fiery red hair leaning against a wall that was twisted like intestines. She had a tired smile on her face. Her eyes were blue, and there were traces of blood on her face and hands, which looked like they had been washed vigorously.

That familiar gaze deepened his trance. Bundles of blunt swords, custom-made by the blacksmith, lay stacked in wooden boxes, while bows and arrows for practice hung on the wall. One table was piled with wine for the competition, another with meat for the after-practice meal. He seemed to understand where that incomprehensibly advanced swordsmanship came from, and why the Frankish knights of a thousand years ago couldn't resist Sevra, yet a thousand years later, a mercenary who had forgotten his past life could.

In Neuen's inn, he heard the wine gurgling in the cup, the candlelight flickering, and the ethereal aroma of wine and sweat...

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she wrote again.

"I know you," Cesar murmured. "Many years later, you are a mercenary wandering around the world, unaware that you were once a knight of the Frank Empire."

"I should have a family of knights in my later life," she wrote. "That's what the prophecy says."

"Your family has been destroyed for a generation."

"It seems that the prophecy has been revealed by a temple." She smiled helplessly.

"You are very skilled in martial arts over there." Cesar looked at her.

"Back then, Ferrieres asked me whether I wanted to go with her to the Kasar Empire or return to the Fran Empire to follow Milava," she wrote. "So I asked her where I could go to become a great knight and invincible."

"I don't think it's okay to go anywhere," Cesar said.

“Ferris told me the same thing,” she wrote.

"What about you?"

"I said, if going anywhere doesn't work, I will keep fighting until I can. If death can't stop me, then one day, I will be able to get closer to where I want to be. I will no longer..."

"Why do you think so?" Cesar asked her.

"Because at the moment of destruction and betrayal, I was unable to do anything. My former colleagues killed each other for their own persistence, and I could only stand by and watch. At that time, I thought the beastmen around Master Ferriers were terrifying. Later, I discovered that everyone has an Ajehe in their hearts, but it has never been their turn to transform into a beast. But when everything was about to happen, everything happened..."

"I understand," he said.

"What do you understand?"

Cesar took her writing hand and put it to his mouth, touching her fingertips with his lips. Of course, this was not a kiss, but a sign of respect.

"I understand that your swordsmanship and skills are neither innate nor inherited, my respected teacher," he said. "I once wondered where they came from, and it was only at this moment that my confusion was explained. I don't know what your name was in the past, but in the afterlife, your name is Cecia de Fran, the one who gave me direction and hope during my time of imprisonment. I suspect that all that will reach the afterlife from here are the memories of the battles you experienced in the endless turbulence of time. But out of selfishness, could you allow me to take something more with me?"

"I can't take anything more away to the afterlife." She placed her finger on his cheek and wrote softly, "Just like I can't speak, this spell is like that."

"I can convey this to you," Cesar said. "This tomb has collapsed, and the turbulence of time is becoming less and less. Everything will soon...end."

"How do you convey it?" She stroked his face with a teasing smile, wanting to know what he wanted to do.

Cesar reached out and stroked her cheek, just as she had written on his, from her ear to her jaw, then across her fair neck. First his right hand, then his left, came closer, caressing the skin from the side of her neck to her ear, as softly as if stroking silk. She trembled slightly, her breath damp with salt, as if to say she had never had any students, nor had she ever thought that the endless war and death in the grave would one day end.

Her lips were red and soft, and because she had just sipped the spring water in the tomb, they were still stained with a damp salty taste. Cesar first kissed them lightly, then bit them, and when her lips slightly opened in response, he put out the tip of his tongue, picked up her tongue, which was slippery and soft because of her saliva, and swirled it around her tongue tip to stir it up.

After a long moment, their lips parted. She pursed her lips slightly, sweat staining her forehead and neck. Cesar held her hand and whispered in her ear, softly calling out "Master." Her hands softened, finally falling to embrace his waist. She let the rusted armor fall away, letting him peel back the water-soaked fabric and gently nibble on her shoulder and collarbone.

"You are such a bad student," she wrote on his back.

"Perhaps it's students like this who can lead you to the hopes of the past, my beloved teacher." Cesar raised his head and said, "When I step out of my grave, I will offend you as your student. If the feelings I have then and now overlap, perhaps...will you give me a kiss? Without the weight of this kiss, I'm afraid you'll pierce me with a sword."

Her fingers touched his cheek, "I should pierce you with a sword.

,” she wrote, “and after that?”

"We can die together," Cesar said.

.......

Although he was moved at the time, he also felt melancholy afterwards. The experience of the two of them drowning in the clear spring in each other's arms with joy also made Cesar feel that the turbulent flow of time was not so empty.

However, a sudden experience couldn't sustain him for long. Compared to Cesar's footprints throughout the turbulent flow of time, Cecia's past was actually quite limited. Moreover, her complete memories and experiences could not be passed on. Only her battle experiences ignored the barriers of time and were transmitted to future generations, causing her to wander further and further along the path of her former hopes.

Passion disappears faster than life.

The road jolted, spirits howled, and deformed flesh screamed. Cesar looked up and saw everything that moved in the tomb falling like hail, blood mingling with it, a crimson storm that filled the entire chamber. Sevra tilted his head back, staring into the darkness with his usual empty gaze until all sound fell silent, leaving only the two of them breathing. This man caused death as easily as breathing.

Then she squatted down and gazed at Cesar with calm eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Cesar asked her.

"How do I cut you open?" Sevra said with a twisted face. "What are you thinking about?"

"How can I continue to love you?" He shrugged.

"I can't force myself anymore. I don't have to force myself like this." She said, and waved the blade casually, but not to cut him, but to cut off her hair that was over her shoulders.

Not long after, Sevra discarded the broken hair, and a head of tangled black hair appeared before him again, her gender-ambiguous features becoming even more difficult to discern. Compared to Cecia, who seemed to have been missing for a long time, this guy's porcelain-white features were more suitable for a ghost, and those deep, dark eyes seemed to be able to draw in the soul.

"I don't want to be stabbed to death by a hair clipper," Cesar said.

"Why didn't you ever try to kill me?" she asked nonchalantly.

"We are one person," Cesar said. "We can have one part that wants to kill another, but we can't both want to kill each other."

"Really? I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

"Why do you ask me for anything? Do you find killing me boring?"

"You are too indifferent."