Shadow of the Evil God

After living with the beast for so long, she's become even more skilled at killing than she'd imagined. In a sense, this isn't a good thing. What's to be done? The deed has already been done, so what's the point in reflecting on it? The next step is more important than the pool of blood before her. Once the summoning mark is cast, events will swirl like a ship's rudder, spinning like a ship out of control.

Chapter 75: Evil Monster

Ajehe pressed her face, not to wipe away the blood, but to soothe the curse—the mouth-like scar tearing into her chest. She couldn't help but think that even if it were anywhere else, it wouldn't be so unsightly.

The soldier, his head twisted on his back, fell to the ground, his limbs twitching like an epileptic, as if something were struggling and twisting inside him. The corpses scattered on the ground were like sacks stuffed with earthworms, bulging and writhing. At some point, a mist of blood surged up from the wounds on each corpse, covering the entire floor and almost reaching her knees, emitting a rich fragrance that gathered towards her.

She felt thirsty, hungry, and even an irresistible burning desire, tempting her to enjoy it all. But she waved her hand, and the blood mist around her dissipated, and the corpses settled down. The stronger the sensory experience became, the more she didn't want to accept it, because it made her feel like she was being fooled by another part of her consciousness.

As more soldiers approached, Ajeh thrust the prepared seal into the corpse's severed neck and fled. She didn't flee the city, but instead pressed deeper inside. After all, she had only completed the most crucial step: breaking the deadlock. She still needed to appease Sfrah after it breached the city walls, lure it back into the wilderness, and stop it from advancing into Noi'en and slaughtering everyone indiscriminately.

But then again, as long as they are not Kuna people, there is no difference between friend and foe.

......

Cesar, holding a telescope, tried to observe the movements of the steppe people through the cold night and snowstorm. He first looked towards the thickest and most heavily defended part of the wall. The guard tower there had been attacked by the enemy, resulting in many casualties, but more soldiers had been dispatched. Soon, soldiers would be able to make up for the loss, re-defend the guard tower, and monitor every corridor and every window.

Then, he looked toward the relatively weakly defended area and saw a large number of enemy troops approaching the city walls. It wasn't that he saw people in the trenches, but rather that many siege engines, which he hadn't expected to appear, were approaching the city walls. Most of them were large wooden siege towers, ladders with iron hooks on top, and even catapults. They were obviously built from trees cut down on the spot. Most of them were shattered by the city defense artillery before they even reached the city walls.

Because of the complete set of calculation methods he provided, the accuracy of these artillerymen was almost completely different from before. In the past, at least half of them would have been able to withstand the artillery fire and reach the city wall.

He had indeed done everything he could, and the steppe people didn't seem to have received any meaningful military support from the Domini royal family. Their technology lagged behind the times, and their war equipment remained as stagnant as recorded. Those siege towers and catapults, which could be built on the spot after setting up camp, had once posed a significant threat, but were now of little use. Their destructive power was limited to the old-fashioned walls of the outer city of Noien.

Useful, but also has limited range.

Did they prepare the trench fortifications for so long just to launch these antiques?

Cesar wants to push

He was trying to gauge the situation, but he couldn't figure it out and was completely confused. After so much preparation, the grassland people showed him such a scene, which was really absurd.

He surveyed the surroundings from the ramparts. Beside him were Gouzi, still dressed as a musketeer, and Firth, whose attire made it hard to tell she was a mage. The soldiers had prepared kerosene and pitch to ensure effective destruction should the enemy approach, but it looked like the ladders would be difficult to transport, let alone attach to the ramparts. Of course, it wasn't impossible that their sword dancers had dug a perfectly regular trench, allowing ladders to be brought in from there, but that wouldn't pose much of a threat.

Although the moat was frozen, visibility was nearly impossible at night, and the storm obscured vision, the harsh conditions didn't significantly impact the situation. The port was still accessible, and war supplies were still being delivered today. While some traveling merchants inevitably came to Noien to sell their wares at a higher price, being able to buy at the port wasn't a bad thing. Now...

But Cesar couldn't forget the beastman from the Crimson Realm. The steppe people were locked in a bitter struggle, their large engineering equipment unable to even approach the city walls. Only a few ladders were brought in from the trenches, some of which were overturned by pushers before they could even be set up. Others were pelted with kerosene by impatient soldiers, setting them ablaze. The steppe people carrying ladders out of the trenches were riddled with sieves by the musketeers. The situation was good, so good that it seemed as if all his preparations had been unnecessary.

This scene had already made many soldiers laugh. The insider's assault on the watchtower was only half successful, as the soldiers were replenished so quickly that even if so many stood still and were killed by the hidden insider, their blades would have been blunted and their arms would have gone numb. The enemy approaching from the trenches posed little threat either. Without large siege engines, a few hooked ladders were simply not enough to make a move. Noi'en was also exceptionally well-supplied. The steppe people were unable to blockade the port, and cargo ships continued to arrive and depart, ensuring that they could hold out until next year.

Could it be that the grassland people were simply too foolish or overconfident, believing the Dominican royal family's promises but failing to receive the necessary support? Cesar had originally expected them to receive a large number of siege artillery. After all, without the necessary firepower, how could they possibly capture a city of this size?

"Something's not right." Ceshia suddenly walked over from the ranks of soldiers. "There are almost no people in those siege engines."

"No one?" Cesar didn't react yet.

"Even if a siege tower isn't packed with people, there should be enough soldiers to occupy a section of the wall. But I saw only a few people in the damaged siege tower. In other words, apart from the manpower to operate it, there's nothing else in those old relics."

Cesar subconsciously looked off into the distance. "A cover? What are they..."

Just as another round of artillery fire enveloped the siege engines from all directions, a section of the frozen river suddenly trembled. The ice, previously impervious to even the artillery fire, suddenly shattered—no, it should be said to have melted, dissolving like a block of salt in boiling water. A massive black shadow rose from the melting ice, rising upward, and in a blink of an eye, it approached the height of Noien's outer walls.

Cesar thought of the warning from the Scarlet Realm, that this world was not the one he had lived in before, the even more bizarre horror legends and religious stories, and the white nightmare at the bottom of the mine.

He subconsciously fumbled for the claws the beastmen had given him, pulling those around him back. He wanted to shout, to say something, but a howl, unearthly in the flesh, suddenly spread across the snowy plains outside the city, drowning out all other sounds. Everyone was stunned and stopped in their tracks, as if nailed to the spot, frozen and motionless. Even the grassland people within his sight stopped moving.

Even if it was a monster taller than the city wall, it would—

Cesar noticed the beast's claws in his arms glowing bloodily, and he felt an inexplicable throbbing sensation, as if the shadow held an unspoken connection to him. The thought was absurd, and when he looked up, he couldn't help but hold his breath. A dark crimson mist swirled around the shadow, gradually converging into a bloody moon, as gigantic as a millstone, suspended in the sky.

The blood moon flickered and emitted brilliance, illuminating the dark clouds above it and reflecting an eerie light on the scales of a giant black snake, extending towards the dark city wall.

Analik? The feeling at this moment was very similar to when he projected his consciousness into the Crimson Realm, but on a much more exaggerated scale.

He saw strange shadows flickering in and out, as if thousands of shadowy figures, real and unreal, swirled around the black snake. The moment they appeared, they seemed illuminated by blood-red lightning. The terrifying whistling sound was actually the overlapping of their shrill, hoarse voices. The full moon formed by the blood mist was also formed by them swirling around the black snake, praying, calling out, and dedicating themselves like believers. More and more shadowy figures, real and unreal, plunged into the blood mist, as if adding fuel to the flames, making them burn more and more vigorously...

Cesar realized something was wrong, but it was too late.

The phantom of the blood moon was aimed at the city wall.

"Throw down!"

An evil blood-red beam of light shot towards the thickest section of the wall, and the roar resounded throughout the city, like thunder from the ground.

The soldiers gathered there, only to see them, along with entire sections of the wall and entire watchtowers, falling apart—not buildings collapsing and people falling to their deaths, but buildings and people shattering into a mixture of gravel and flesh.

The bloody fragments floated in the air under the baptism of the light column and quickly melted away.

The bloody light vanished, along with the bloody moon. Cesar rose from the ground, his ears ringing. He looked toward the wall and saw that even as the defenders were still panicking, the vanguard of the steppe people had already rushed through the smoke and ruins through the huge gap in the wall. It wasn't just a gap in the wall; due to what had just happened, there was also a huge gap in the nearby guards.

People melted and dissolved like salt cubes thrown into boiling water.

"Will the street fighting you prepared still be useful?" Cesar asked Ceshia.

"If morale hasn't completely collapsed," she said.

That snake with pitch-black scales... is it crawling towards the city? Seeing this, Cesar clenched the beast's claws in his arms. "The situation inside the city is very complex. Let the soldiers who can still fight do their best to resist and retreat while fighting." He said, "Perhaps there is something else I can do."

.......

Corini opened her eyes, for the dagger, inscribed with the school rune, was pressed against her heart, sinking slightly in. Yes, the rune of the Orvela school, right above her chest.

"In the past ten years or so." The invisible assassin said in a slow voice, "The Grand Master said that she has been dreaming, but she can't remember any of the contents of the dreams. We used many methods to find the source of the dreams, and finally located the direction of Noien..." The hand holding the dagger relaxed slightly.

Of course, Corini knew that the Invisible Assassins came to Noien not because of the Domini royal family's request, and they would not work for other forces. They came to Noien for only one purpose, and that was her.

"Where are the others?" she asked casually.

"Everyone is preoccupied with the safety of this city." The other person's voice was indistinguishable in the darkness. "You are different, Corini. You are here for something else. Regarding the nonexistent school and records of true knowledge you fabricated, and the nonexistent Origin Society mage with whom you fathered a child, can you give me an explanation?"

Chapter 76: Shadow of the Past

"It sounds like you used the mind-penetrating technique on the White Eyes," Corini said to the invisible person. "Why don't you trust the memory you saw with your own eyes?"

"Fabricated memories." The other party's voice sounded muffled in the darkness. "It's truly pitiful for a puppet to fall into the hands of a mage, especially since he should have been someone else, with a completely different life story. A loyal school guardian, growing up with you, a love blossomed in your youth, and then alienation and resentment. You're quite skilled at fabricating false memories. I almost fell for it."

Corini put on a helpless expression and asked, "The story is so good, why don't you believe it? Is it because you're boring?"

"Because I've been to where he lived before he became a white-eyed man," he said in a low voice. "He was a woodcutter who lived alone in the forest on the edge of the village for decades. He had been living there until you came. You know, Corini, no one knows it better than you."

"This was truly an oversight..." she pondered, feeling the dagger's tip press tighter. The dagger of the Orvera School made her feel deathly dead. Her heart contracted, her consciousness receded. An inexplicable emptiness enveloped the point where the dagger met her skin, as if a void were spreading through her, tearing off a piece of her body and placing it in another dimension.

I can't imagine that the mages created this thing themselves.

The secrets of the Orvera school and the magicians came into contact, creating a twisted shadow that loomed above her consciousness, silently howling. Although invisible to ordinary people, she could use her soul's eye to outline the shadow's outline - a twisting void, like a dark vortex, enough to swallow anyone who had long been exposed to the knowledge of another level of the world.

"I don't want to repeat my question, but do you also want to experience the brain-piercing technique?" asked the invisible assassin.

Of course, the assassin couldn't use brain penetration here, because that would definitely alert others. That's why he kept running away, falling into the trap and having his memory read without even realizing it.

"What do you want me to explain?" she asked.

"Who is that little Ferriers?"

"Perhaps this was a dream of the Grand Master, I suppose," Corini said, spreading her hands. "I wanted to gain some knowledge and secrets from her, so I cast a spell on her. Do you find this difficult to understand?"

"That's a lie," the invisible assassin asserted.

"Um...a lie?"

"With the Grandmaster's current life essence, even if Phyriels was just a dream, her body would wither and suffer immensely if she came into contact with the Ritual Stone. Do you think I'm so easily fooled?"

"Well, what guarantees can you give me?"

The invisible assassin pondered for a moment in the darkness, then told her, "I came here just to find out the truth. Give me the answer, and I will leave."

This answer is not so easy to give, but it seems that he has found all the suspicious points.

It would be difficult to gain the other party's approval for her lies. Corinne frowned, feeling a little embarrassed. Because the war was urgent, the people in the castle were far away from her, and the Earl himself had no time to pay attention to the little episode in her bedroom.

She squinted her eyes and stared at him, as if trying to see his face through the assassin's invisible figure, but she

She was actually looking at a glass jar on the bedroom cabinet. The jar, about the height of a hand, was cylindrical and filled with a blood-red mist, obscuring the details of the inner layer. As if sensing Corini's gaze, the mist inside suddenly stirred. Seeing this, she felt a sudden sense of calm.

"What if I say she's a phantom of the past?" Corini asked.

"what are you saying?"

"There are some things you truly cannot understand," she said leisurely, "but you should always notice that different things happen around her—the sudden appearance of moonlight, the sudden appearance of flowers, and the existence that she would inadvertently overlook if she wasn't paying attention. She is rooted in history, not reality. She is a past left behind by someone. Because of this, someone can break free from their former identity and sit on the unattainable seat of Grandmaster. Back then, when I heard the voice of the past, I traced her back from history. Do you have any questions?"

"This story is even stranger than the story of a dream."

Corini smiled. "Yes, but don't you realize that the probability of Ferriers's existence is imperfect? ​​If you don't pay attention, she will become increasingly dim, as if fading; if you don't observe, she will disappear from your sight, as if she doesn't exist; even if you grasp her hand, you'll inadvertently discover that you're holding nothing but air."

"What's the point of doing this?" the other party asked.

"Meaning?" Corini shook her head. "Do we need meaning in our quest for true knowledge? Not really. Your beloved Grand Master abandoned a part of his humanity ages ago, abandoning it in the wilderness of the past. Why can't I pick her up again? Besides, little Ferrieres is a part of the past. There will always be things that no longer exist drifting into the present through her window—the moonlight of that era, the flowers of that era, and the sounds of that era. Do you understand? Or is all you think about is power and struggle?"

"What you told me." After a long silence, the invisible assassin finally responded. She could hear him wavering. "I'll tell the Grandmaster about this. She'll decide how to handle it. Regardless, she's been troubled by her for over a decade now," he said.

"Really? But she's also your Grandmaster. Isn't she?"

"We serve the present, not the past." The invisible assassin flatly denied.

Corini's expression changed, and she sneered slightly, "But I don't want you to tell her about this."

The man suddenly took a deep breath, his body jolted and twitched, his invisible outline looming in the strong smell of blood. Another pair of eyes flickered in the assassin's sunken eye sockets, a blood-red color, like a smear of oil paint spreading across his skull, revealing his form.

"Do you want to know the deeper secret?" Her smile turned sweeter, and then she added, "It's a pity you don't have the chance."

The corpse twisted and hung in mid-air, pulled backward by an invisible and intangible force, eventually dissolving into a pool of mist and merging into the exquisite glass jar. Corini walked to the side of the cabinet and knocked on the outer glass. The strange eye immediately emerged from the blood mist and turned towards her.

"Why did you call me again, Corinne? I have already disintegrated that man's soul."

Corini asked it, "The Firiels of this era have already found Noyen, Master. The Invisible Assassin is just the beginning. There will be more to come."

"Sean is the one who has the greatest hope of approaching the First Cause in this era. Even the old king of the Kuna who summoned Analik cannot compare to him." The man in the bottle closed his eyes. "Before the altar of Noien is fully opened, you must do your best to meet all of his requests."

She tapped the bottle again. "What's that little Ferrieres? Does she have anything to do with this?"

"I made a secret agreement with her several eras ago. You don't need to know the specific details. At that time, Ferrieres was not yet the Grand Master of the Orvera School, but she had already noticed signs of her soul being twisted."

"That's really curious."

"You can go to the north of the Kasar Empire and ask Ferriers herself."

"Forget it then." She shook her head and said, "But what about Noyen? I heard that the outer city wall has been breached, and people are discussing the defense of the inner city."

The man in the bottle opened his eyes again. "The White Nightmare beneath the castle is already flapping its wings. The two-headed snake will soon revolt. The Sassulai people who broke in will be buried along with the Franks in the lower city. The outer city will suffer massive destruction, with countless casualties. But the Franks' casualties will only be poor people and conscripts, while the Sassulai's casualties will be their elite warriors. After this is over, as long as Thane cleans up the mess, Noien will still be his, and the royal family will not have to intervene."

So, it was the White Nightmare that drove the two-headed snakes mad back then, Korini thought. The repetition of history from so many eras ago was a significant omen.

.......

In the pitch-black night, there are blizzards everywhere that obscure the view.

Meanwhile, everyone was jostling and shoving in the alleys. Wherever you looked, you could see dense, bustling crowds.

The main road near the breach in the city wall seemed to be wrapped in cloth, and was constantly filled with packed human flesh. One layer of flesh was made up of the civilians fleeing from Noyen, and the other layer was made up of

The meat filling consisted of the panicked guards, and another layer of meat filling consisted of the Sasoulai people who kept pouring in. The crowds piled on top of each other, practically sticking together. In this dark, maze-like city, close combat and the slicing of flesh by sharp blades were everywhere. Many people couldn't even tell if they were killing their own people or the enemy.

Cesar gazed at this hellish scene, feeling the ground transform from snow into a thick pool of blood. He felt a strange longing, heard his own heavy breathing, but didn't recognize it as his own. What did he feel? Part of it was sensual disgust, and part of it was a dark and profound joy, as if he felt that this was the way the world should be, and that life was born precisely for this kind of cannibalism.

He wants blood.

He felt like he was falling. The smell of the battlefield enveloped him like a blood-soaked cloth, wanting to carry him down into the abyss. But he also felt a power... from another dimension, a power that seemed to burn in his veins, forcing his reason to retreat.

Someone hugged his neck tightly and bit him. Cesar felt a little more awake and turned his head to look.

"You're delirious again," said Phils. When had she hung on his back? "Go over there, on the roof," she said.

Chapter 77: Meeting with White Nightmare

Cesar felt Fils's grip tighten, opening a small gap in the blood-soaked shroud, giving him a slight relief from the suffocation. He saw her looking ahead, as if a ray of moonlight was guiding her in the dark snowstorm. To the right of her cheek, he could see a house crumbling behind them, its walls gradually collapsing, dissolving into a vast cloud of smoke and rubble.

The drifting snow and smoke merged, making it impossible to tell whether the shattered walls were covered in ash or snow. The panicked soldiers, losing the cover of the street fighting terrain, collided with the shirtless yet heavily tattooed sword dancer, and their encounter ended in a brief, bloody death.

From the monks' stories, Cesar knew that over the past few hundred years, grassland people had often raided the area around Noien, but these sword dancers were less common. They were more like folklore, passed down through word of mouth, gradually becoming suffocating horror stories, describing how these demonic barbarians, their bodies covered in curses, howled like animals while wielding their blades, chopping off countless limbs and heads.

Many Noien people believe that they are the evil offspring of the intercourse between grassland people and demons.

Cesar knew that many legends were laced with superstitious fears, which was not surprising, but when the content of the legends actually happened, the people who were influenced by them would become more vulnerable than they actually were.

There's nothing much to say about collapsing buildings. Whether it's clearing a path through complex streets or eliminating enemies hidden in building clusters and narrow alleys, knocking down walls and collapsing buildings is more effective than squeezing through them to find a way out.

It's like cutting the Gordian knot: if you can cut it in one stroke, there's no need to pinch your fingers and slowly untie it. The steppe people lack artillery, but those sword dancers, their bodies engraved with shamanic runes, always manage to do the unexpected. Whether digging trenches outside the city or now crushing complex buildings and alleyways into rubble, they're all finding new ways to move forward—perhaps they have a wise leader directing them.

Cesar could almost hear the sword dancer's stomping as he fled the castle. The buildings in the lower city were already fragile, and their handling of the situation was far more efficient than engaging in street fighting with the defenders.

He climbed up the window frame before the house collapsed and took the dog's hand to the roof, his leather boots stepping over tiles and bricks. Because of Phils chanting in his ear, he felt a lot lighter and his mind was a little calmer, not so immersed in the stimulation of blood.

"Are you awake now?" she asked again.

"It's just a bit of a struggle, but it's getting harder and harder for me to stay awake," Cesar replied.

"Once we take the first step, there's no turning back," Firth whispered. "Just like a forest gradually decaying and darkening, things are irreversible. The only way is to expand our presence, making that part of the puzzle smaller and smaller. The longer we stay put and resist, the closer we'll be to complete collapse."

"You haven't talked about yourself recently." He looked at the giant black-scaled snake that was gradually approaching the city wall.