Shadow of the Evil God

He sat there, wrapped in his fur coat, waiting quietly. The place was damp and cold, and the chill wind blew through the cracks in the stone, causing the lamplight to tremble constantly. As the lamplight trembled, angular shadows also wavered on the earthen wall, sometimes stretching, reaching the ceiling like sharp daggers about to pierce downwards, and sometimes shortening, curling into an ugly, bloated black mass.

Musali's half-sister suddenly appeared in front of him as if from the shadows.

She wore a gray fur coat with a long hood, tightly covering her entire body. Only one heavily bandaged hand jutted from the tattered sleeve. The hand was bony, with long, slender fingers and sharp nails, covered in a thick layer of gray fur. While the bandages covered her hand, they couldn't hide the oozing smell of blood or the scattered cuts. These cuts, like natural knife wounds, didn't bleed, but were shrouded in a thin, bloody mist.

"you

"Want to take it east of the Stoney Abyss?" A pair of gray eyes stared at him from behind the black mask that concealed her face. Her voice was hoarse and low, with a hint of a hiss. Her canine teeth grazed in her mouth, emitting a thin mist of blood that lingered around her mask like smoke.

"Indeed." Musa

Li said softly.

"It should stay on the grassland." Ajiehe said bluntly.

"The Kuna people took it and fled to the Endless Steppe. Now we are taking it there, but we are just letting it return to its homeland." He pointed out lightly.

"The curse on it has not yet dissipated. Its mind is confused and it is like a wild beast. Yet you want to take it to slaughter the people of an entire city?" Ajeh approached him with words.

"It wasn't a massacre, it was just a capture," Musali said indifferently. "Besides, your father gave me permission to do so."

Ajeh shook her head from side to side, her tattered hood rising and then falling back. Nearly a meter of tangled gray hair suddenly spread out behind her, frozen into icicles like long, fang-like shards that danced in the wind. A narrow, vertical gash tore from her jaw to just below her collar, its jagged edges gleaming white.

"Iskrig is an old man with fading memory." Her mouth splayed out, "His soul is scarred. I can smell the stench of corruption from a few meters away. It's even more decayed than the dying in the tribe. You're the only ones who find him handsome and elegant and fall in love with him."

Musali frowned. "You needn't be so harsh, sister. In my youth, I was in love with my mentor and we made peace in the Great Tent. But now I am the father of two sons and a daughter, and I will raise more children as a chief. It's better to forget the past."

Even though none of his wives were as beautiful as Iskrig.

"Iskrig will forget, but what about you?" Ajeh asked in a high voice, "Have you ever noticed the way you stared at him?"

"That doesn't mean anything," Musali said, shaking his head. He didn't want to talk about Iskrig anymore. "I came here only to tell you that we're taking Sfrah away. You won't have to visit it until next year."

"Now is not the time for it to wake up," she said.

"We will wake it up early and lead it to the city east of the Stone Abyss," said Musali.

"Sfera awakens once every ten years or so, preying on an entire herd of wild beasts near its habitat before returning to sleep. It neither harms the herds nor preys on humans. Don't you know how many years this habit has persisted? Now you're trying to lure it east. Once it's fed human remains, do you think it will retain its old habits in the grasslands?"

"Don't question me, Ajeh, don't question me. We have plenty of ways to restrain it. This time, in our attack on Noien, it must be the key to breaking through the city. You must understand that this is more than just a raid, more than just a means to survive a single Year of Disaster. If we can sign an agreement with the kingdom over there and open up trade, we won't have to fight wars caused by Years of Disaster for many generations to come."

"You actually believe in the Franks' spirit of contract? You don't even have it yourself."

Musali said calmly, "That's why we need to show them something far beyond their previous understanding. This agreement is just a prelude to us obtaining their technology and resources. I certainly don't consider it the whole story."

"It seems you've made up your mind." Ajeh stared at him through the mask. "Well, I will guide it and make sure it doesn't fall into madness."

"you?"

"Yes."

"why?"

"No reason, Mussari."

"It's fine that you're the leader of the wolf pack, but do you think you can guide the sacred snake of the Kuna people, who is cursed by a terrible curse from the East?"

"I've been wandering in its dreams during its long sleep." Ajeh's voice showed some emotion for the first time. "It's just that you thought I was worshipping the sacred snake of my ancestors like a believer in a god."

"So you've seen it conquer cities for the Kuna?"

"I have indeed seen them, and more than that," Ajeh replied. "They were spirits long afflicted by the witchcraft of the Kuna people... especially after the terrors that descended from the east. The memories are haunting, terrifying, but also unforgettable."

"I need confirmation," Musali said. "Show me what it did, and I'll allow you to go with the army and stay with it as long as you want."

Ajeh stared at him for a moment, then suddenly closed her eyes. Her masked face tilted slightly forward, and for a moment, Musali thought she was asleep. But a sudden gust of cold wind blew, and the shadow cast by the flames danced on her strange mask. The dim light swirled like a vortex, pulling his sight and consciousness forward, floating through a veil of nothingness.

He tasted the beast's entrails, smelled the foul air filled with the stench of blood and corpses, and saw through the two lips of a snake...the snake head at the front and the snake head at the tail.

A strange sweetness filled his senses. Although Musali felt like vomiting at the sight of the entrails and decaying corpses scattered across the ground, the young two-headed snake relished the freshly devoured corpse-eating wild dogs. A tide of decay surged beneath the dark sky, a long blood-red line stretching from the northern to the southern horizons, as if the sky were torn apart, revealing a narrowed, blood-red human eye.

The overlapping whistling sounds shook his eardrums. Musali raised his snake head and saw a huge crescent moon falling from above his head.

Thousands of white demons soared and flew around the crescent moon, their pale wings creating a hurricane that swept the tide to both sides and blew the corpses on the ground into the air.

The demon's fingers ripped open the houses, snapped trees, and swept the shivering Kuna people high into the sky. Those pitiful people disintegrated and collapsed in a horrific manner, first swelling like floating corpses, then spewing out a sticky blood mist laced with souls from their orifices, pouring into the black cavity on the demon's face.

The young two-headed snake stared at the sky until the crescent moon, like a mountain collapsing, dropped in front of it. It turned out to be a snake head, belonging to its old father, who had sired countless children for the empire. The two-headed snake above it came alive like the ridge of a mountain, its curved spine reaching into the clouds, and white demons soared and spun around it like a noisy swarm of locusts.

Each of the snake's scales resembled a hollow, eyeless human face, numbering in the thousands or tens of thousands. The closest face was the face of the temple's abbot from its memory—his lips had rotted away, his nose completely worn away, leaving only two dark openings and a rippled membrane. His eye sockets contained only two tangled masses of polyps.

The old father was cursed, his body expanding endlessly while his consciousness gradually faded. The overlapping howls were actually the simultaneous wails and frantic screams of the Kuna he had swallowed. Those still-gasping mouths and twisting, writhing faces would soon replace his serpentine form, becoming his entire being.

"Go west... go west..." The temple master who still had some sanity knocked his broken tongue and exposed teeth together, spitting out a few words incoherently, "Don't touch... the evil monster of the one god..."

The old two-headed snake gnashed its teeth, and the temple master's face gradually stretched and expanded, growing ever longer. He joined other priests with powerful souls gathered at the two heads of the two-headed serpent, one male and one female. The membranes of the master's nostrils quickly ripped, and his eye sockets were completely stretched into holes the size of two human heads. His remaining thoughts were obscured by pain, and he let out a cry like a baby's cry, which then faded into an unsettling echo.

Blood-red beams of evil erupted from the orifices of the abbot and the other devoured priests, piercing the murky air and shooting straight up into the sky. They crisscrossed the clouds, engulfing hundreds of humans and white demons who were swept away and disintegrated into mist, piercing through the circular towers hanging in the sky ahead. Tower spires toppled over, crushing the outer walls and plummeting hundreds of meters into the air, transforming into an avalanche-like storm of rubble.

Musali and the young two-headed snake watched this magnificent spectacle, each yearning to truly understand its mysteries. The Guna's sorcery was the only knowledge they refused to share, a secret concerning the Eastern terror, their one God. The so-called Origin Society's tower was merely a replica of the wonders built by their ancestors.

His cursed sister has been observing such things all the time, what on earth is she thinking?

"Is this what you thought when you saw this?"

"Then what else can I think?" Musali asked back.

"You should continue to be the chief, brother," Ajeh said, "and stop asking about Sfera's affairs."

In an instant, Musali struggled like a drowning man, struggling for a long time to find his human senses, as if searching for air... Then all the visions disappeared. A sense of emptiness enveloped his soul.

He let out a long breath. "What's the normal size of this kind of spirit? I mean, when it's not cursed."

“It’s the size of a house,” she said.

"Although Sfra isn't as large as its father, it can still sink a warship... Well, since you think you can soothe it, then sleeping on it and using it as a mount is fine. I'll prepare some extra beasts for it to eat along the way, to prevent it from losing control in Noi'en. After all, the horrors of the East are only stories from a thousand years ago."

"The best thing to do is to let it continue to sleep in its habitat."

"That's impossible," Mussari flatly refused. "There are things we have to do."

Chapter 33 You are right, teacher.

......

The next day, they met in the hotel dining room. The meal consisted of a large plate of grilled fish and a few vegetables, along with a few pieces of pickled pork and a strong liquor that would warm anyone in the freezing cold. Garcia had merely introduced Cesar; he would have to negotiate the exact terms himself. The man had paid over a hundred livres in back wages, but none of that had anything to do with Cesar.

"So," Ceshia said, "most of Fatty's personal property was donated to Xiel, some of which served as hire money for our team. The remaining personal property, or inheritance, was left to you. Now you decide to sign an agreement to recognize me as your teacher and pay me six livres a month as tuition?"

"I'm just quoting the market rate I understand." Cesar exchanged glances with her. "It's about the same as an infantryman's monthly salary. Of course, you're the captain of the Black Swords, so your salary is much higher. If you think it's negotiable, we can discuss it."

Cecia held her cheek with her left hand and waved her knife in her right hand as if she were conducting a band. "It is indeed much higher," she said, "but this hundred livres is not my private property. It has to be used to maintain and purchase various military supplies. The rest is used to bribe local bureaucrats, hire servants to accompany the army, and so on.

I have to pay for things like the staff and doctors who treat my men's injuries. As for what you give me, it is my personal property."

Cesar thought, if Cecia had not embezzled the hundred livres, she would not have received the money.

It was too much money. Judging from the attitude of her mercenaries, she must have been very generous in filling out the bills and paying them. "Does this tuition meet your expectations?" he asked.

"I guess so," she replied, "if I really did do this."

"You mean it's not completely consistent?"

"I just didn't expect to be in this line of work so early." She dabbed at her plate with her knife and fork, then sliced ​​up a piece of grilled fish and examined it in the grayish light from the window. "People like us have to do something after we retire. If we save enough, we can buy a manor or property, but most people can't save much. Being a swordsmanship instructor is one way out, but I'm still young...Are you older than me?"

Ceshia chewed the fish, and the two sat opposite each other in silence for a moment.

"Do you always pay attention to insignificant details like this?" Cesar asked.

"Is it not possible?" she asked. "It's not like I don't have veterans who are skilled in martial arts. They are experienced and more patient than me. Moreover, they have actually taught students before."

"You've never taught students?" Cesar asked again.

"Never." Cecilia picked out the fish bones with a knife. "In this respect, I'm the less suitable one."

"But I heard from Garcia..." Cesar cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully, "that you were born into a family of knights. You used your father's name to participate in knightly tournaments, earning a lot of money and achieving remarkable results in all aspects of the competition. If it weren't revealed that you inherited nothing, you wouldn't have to join the mercenary army to make a living... Do you have other people like you under your command? If not, then I think we can continue to talk about your own topic."

Cecilia drank another glass of wine, her expression unchanged. "You two are truly a family," she said.

"Me and Garcia?" Cesar asked.

"Who else could it be?"

"Do you have a problem with people you can't argue with?"

"That's it."

"If you accept me as your student, you can say whatever you want," Cesar said calmly. "Even if you say something harsher than what I said back in the mine, I won't say anything back. I thought you were trying to threaten me with a sword at my neck. If you still hold that in your heart, then you can put the sword on me and repeat everything you didn't say then. It's up to you."

"No thanks," Cecia said. "My opinion of you has changed countless times. There's no need to take my previous thoughts seriously. I don't need to mention them again. Personally, I think someone as smart as you is more suited to maneuvering in the palace than fighting for life and death with a sword."

"Just because I'm good at talking doesn't mean I'm into power politics. It's just that I have to deal with others this way. Otherwise, I wouldn't be where I am today."

"So you recognize me as your teacher?"

"To be honest, I have no interest in fencing, archery, or other knightly competitions. I just want to deal with future troubles."

"Well, at least it's a good idea." Cecia nodded, her tone changing slightly. "Admitting that you have no interest in knightly competitions is a good start."

"You said it yourself," Cesar said. "No matter what happened or what the situation is, you should express all your feelings and thoughts, instead of pretending to be patient, hiding them, or hesitating and keeping silent."

"Why do you remember so clearly what I said when I was scolding my men?"

"Maybe it's because I'm a self-motivated person, grasping at every straw I can." Cesar shrugged. "You can make a list of the things you need for training, and I'll buy them myself. After I leave the city, I'll be responsible for all my travel expenses. All you need to do is take some time to teach me how to learn and practice, and correct my mistakes. You have no other obligations. If you get frustrated and want to test me, I'll accept it as your student, as long as you don't beat me too badly."

Cecia shook her shoulders nervously, as if about to step into a river of unknown depth and turbulent undercurrent. "Is the fat man's inheritance enough for you to spend like this? I heard that you have a bad relationship with your father, and he won't give you any financial support."

"It should be no problem for you to support me for more than two years. As for after that..." He paused, "How did you make a living before, Captain Ceshia?"

"You mean the knight tournament?" Ceshia suddenly turned her gaze, looking past Cesar towards the heart of the kingdom in the north. Her clear blue eyes shifted again, and Cesar found himself drawn to her radiant spirit. "With your status, you're indeed qualified to enter. In recent years, the various lords and even the courts of the various kingdoms have been working hard to organize tournaments. Not to mention the fame, the money involved is outrageous. Among all the businesses that work for someone like me, this is the fastest way to make money. Do you really want to get involved? Those at the Military Academy are just rookies, after all, but at the knight tournament, you'll encounter more than just young officers with no battlefield experience."

"You speak as if I can really win. In fact, my only advantage is my durability."

"Of course I don't know if you can win the competition, but the fact that you can defeat that demon proves that

You have a good foundation. Although you don't know any skills, you have excellent physical fitness, and there is a little wizard to treat your injuries. Even if you train too much every day, there will be no problems. When you follow the temple out of the city, I will mark the nearby martial arts competitions on the route, and take you to fight them one by one when they are resting.

, you have no objection, right? "

Cesar frowned. He'd mentioned the knightly tournaments as a casual reference, hoping to draw closer to Cecia by drawing on her past experiences. He hadn't expected her to actually tie it into his pursuit of the arts—fencing, archery, lancer combat, and more. Still, this wasn't necessarily a way to leverage power. Regardless of whose identity he assumed, he had to build a reputation through his own actions. Otherwise, he would be nothing more than an obscure bastard, easily manipulated by anyone who wanted to.

"Okay. But I hope if there is a multiplayer competition, you can come in with me so that I can take advantage of your presence," he said.

"I don't mind," Cecia said briskly, playing with her fork. "As long as you're not afraid of getting involved in my past grudges."

"I don't know what your grudge is," Cesar expressed his attitude in a suitable way, "but when I recognize you as my teacher in public, you'd better not be afraid that Queen Dominy will put you on the bad list."

"I'm from Auridan, and have been active in the Kasar Empire ever since. If I hadn't taken this job and come to Noyen, I wouldn't have set foot in Dominy. I don't care who or what the queen of Dominy is."

Before she could finish, Cesar said, "You are right, teacher."

Cecia paused, putting down the fish she had just speared. "I admit, I'm not very used to this name."

He continued, "You want me to call you Captain Ceshia? If you want to hear the truth, I have to tell you, but this is the only thing I can't do. Although I promise to listen to everything you say, and even do whatever you want me to do, the premise is that you are my teacher, not my captain."

The corners of her mouth twitched, and the smile on her face seemed a little forced.

"Or," Cesar continued, "if you think it's strange to teach only one student, I can let the dog come to learn as well. I'll pay the six livres for her, too."

Hearing this, Cecia seemed less receptive, but then she tapped the table with her knife and raised her chin with the handle. "No... you mean that exiled noble lady who looks so pampered?"

In fact, Cesar had long wanted to test whether the Faceless could learn various skills using human methods, and how much their efficiency was inferior to his. This might not be an opportunity.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"All the skills I can teach require sufficient weight, adequate arm reach, and tremendous muscular strength. The physical requirements for wielding a bow are even higher than those for wielding a sword, with the exception of wielding a musket. Imagine your arm muscles getting tired, your knees and joints getting tired, and insufficient cardiopulmonary function leaving you gasping for breath. The idea of ​​a beautiful noblewoman, slender yet skilled in martial arts, renowned for her swift and fierce swordplay, is just a tale made up by some local poets. Ultimately, she'll need to block and parry, and at those times, no matter how perfect her form and technique, a trained adult male can knock her to the ground with a single full-strength blow."

One must admit, Captain Ceshia is indeed very professional. "Well, then, can you teach her a little bit about how to use the musket?" Cesar asked again.

"Is this worth six livres?"

"Then let's have two. I'll let her call you teacher, too."

Chapter 34: You can step on me however you want

......

Musari couldn't help feeling annoyed as he read the secret letter sent by the messenger in an urgent manner in the big tent.

He had already gathered the chiefs and warriors from each tribe, prepared supplies for the march, and mobilized for the expedition. Before setting off, the warriors gathered for drinking and dancing, or clung to their wives and spent the night trying to conceive another child. Some shouted, some sang, and some roared in anger, their eyes gleaming with anticipation for the coming battle. They were the Sasule people, and every man was a warrior ready to mount a horse and fight.

At a time when a great war was about to break out, the Franks sent a secret letter, again instructing them to murder a penniless illegitimate child?

What an insult. What did they think the Sassulai expedition was? A continuation of palace intrigue and aristocratic feuds?

"The Queen's beloved brother is dead," the messenger said to Musali across the table. "We again ask you, Chief Musali, to kill Count Thane's only son."

"Does your queen have any more specific instructions?" Musali tossed the letter aside and continued flipping through the tribal reports on the table. He was compiling the chiefs' requests. Some tribes had suffered severe disasters and needed large quantities of food; some had settled in mining areas and needed slaves to mine the iron; some were running low on craftsmen and needed to recruit metallurgists; and some had only enough women to provide pure-blooded Sassulai offspring for the chiefs and a small number of warriors. If they couldn't capture the Franks as wives for their warriors, they would send troops to seize the wives and daughters of other tribes.