Shadow of the Evil God

He had seen her drill with the knights in the barracks, marching in formation, running in full armor, leaping ditches and dugouts, not to mention riding and fencing. He had seen her absorbed in the study and use of her musket, and even seen her attempt to transcend the tables he had given her, applying the mathematical and geometric principles she had learned to the study of artillery fire. In military matters, she had a stern and fierce disposition, emphasized because her strengths and passions were entirely alien to her graceful demeanor. Her sword was a heavy sword, and her stance was fierce.

To be honest, Cesar didn't want to do any of these things. Either he couldn't do them, or he didn't want to. He could barely endure short stints in the workshops, conducting detailed inspections, or serving as an officer in the barracks training soldiers. But if he really had to stick with it for the long term, he feared he'd abandon both the workshop and the army to focus on romances with beautiful young priests or officers.

"I think I'm better at history and philosophy," Altinia replied. "This weapon just comes in handy. I've never really considered whether it's suitable for me."

“It’s like putting a saddle on a cat,” Cesar said.

"You think I'm a cat?"

"Maybe you do too many unexpected things. Some cats look graceful and elegant, but you never know when they'll do something surprising."

Cesar's reasoning had nothing to do with the cat's own habits, but rather with his inability to understand many of her thoughts. He didn't know much about the post-division imperial court, and unless she spoke, he couldn't fathom her intentions based on her life story. She stood close to him, yet she was incredibly difficult to understand. Whenever Cesar wasn't paying attention, she would inadvertently make a surprising move.

If there was one defining characteristic of the Third Princess, it wasn't her military uniform and armor, nor her impeccable manners, but the strange, sharp, and incredibly aggressive light in her eyes. Anyone who tried to detect a different emotion within her seemingly calm gaze would encounter this burning, passionate light and never forget it.

So what were her true personal emotions? He couldn't say for sure. It was hard to see any fanaticism through the etiquette and cultivation she had cultivated since childhood. Looking further, it was no longer just about observing words and expressions, but like the Faceless One, peeling off the entire soul and seeing through everything inside.

Ever since Cesar showed her Gonzales's workshop, Artinia had begun applying his ideas in various settings, primarily in military camps. She approached the soldiers and engaged them in conversation, not by reading orders or soliciting intelligence, but by listening to the mercenaries recount their past military expeditions, how they'd walk to reduce fatigue during long marches, and the experiences and insights they'd gained from their own lives.

Although she was not speaking heart to heart, but was only talking cautiously using the methods of winning people's hearts that she had cultivated in the palace, she had already consolidated a considerable degree of respect in the army.

On the other hand, after examining the way Cesar arranged his life,

Later, she began to seek a lifestyle that was as simple as possible. During the day, she was either on the march or in training. At night, she was either handling military affairs or consulting him and learning theoretical knowledge. There was really not much time left for sleep. Not only that, she also had to take care of her own luggage and appearance, which was simply not possible for a human being.

Although Artinya, like Phils, had very little sleep, unlike Phils, she was always energetic. If Cesar didn't pay attention to her unkempt hair, it would be difficult for him to tell whether she had not slept all night or had really slept.

The princess considered herself a mechanical clock, possessing an obsession with precise operation. Like a clock, each gear rotates in a way that is interconnected. Therefore, if one of her gears wasn't turning properly, he could tell which gear above it wasn't turning properly. From Cesar's observations of her, he suspected she, too, wanted to transform the Casal Empire into a machine, operating flawlessly according to instructions. This was a different idea than hers; easier said than done.

"I want you to rest in the tent for a day," Cesar said to her. "The upcoming trip to the town is not a battle, so there's no need for you to rush around packing."

"You noticed?" Altinya frowned slightly, not reacting normally to being discovered to have been up all night. "I've done my best to avoid revealing any flaws. Is there something I haven't taken into account?"

"You look like a monk to me, but you don't belong to any sect," Cesar said sarcastically.

"I just hope I can't guess. Some things can't be seen by others unless I deliberately show them," she said. "Can you tell me how you discovered it, sir?"

"I'm not a palace teacher. I don't teach this," Cesar denied. "How well can you hide from me? How well can I see through you? You'd better figure it out on your own."

Altinya's mouth curled downward. "You're a teacher, and you can say that? You're truly eye-opening." Her tone brightened slightly, then softened. "But no, I must go. I have experience with towns ravaged by beastmen, or rather, I'm quite familiar with them. Seeing some of the scenes I remember would be beneficial to both you and me."

Chapter 191 Human Maggots

"Also," the princess added, "I hope you'll bring at least one combat-ready force. You have a misconception that a town ravaged by beastmen is an abandoned slaughterhouse. But in the days when their shamans were still active, the abandoned failures often formed uncontrollable herds. You don't want to deal with them on your own."

She was right, Cesar thought. He wasn't an explorer or adventurer, so there was no need to risk his life exploring a ruin. Often, he was haunted by thoughts from his past life, thinking about traveling alone instead of using troops and artillery to clear the way and raze suspicious buildings and areas.

......

The sun was high as the marching troops packed up camp and set out. Following Artinia's suggestion, Cesar took a more mobile force, including the main cavalry that had fought since Gonzales, several mercenaries who had wiped out the Beastmen within the Empire, and a seasoned artillery unit with a fleet of easily transportable light artillery. The rest of the army continued north, heading towards Fort Gural, where they expected to rendezvous at the next camp at nightfall.

Of all of them, Altinya had the most thorough understanding of the Beastmen and the highest military prowess. Ever since they began working together, she had been handling all the details of military command, naturally freeing him from the responsibilities he had previously been forced to accept.

Sadly, Cesar had barely escaped the burden of commanding the army when he took on more, seemingly endless tasks. He desperately wanted to find someone to replace him, but aside from Artinia, the others were either incompetent and unable to take over his duties, or he simply couldn't direct them, like the eldest daughter of the Duke's family, who had recently been absorbed in studying the cryptic manuscripts.

At noon, the scorching heat inexplicably dropped, and Cesar felt a slight chill. A thin layer of cloud covered the sky, and the sun was shrouded in a hazy mist, its light rather thin, and it looked as if a northwest wind was about to blow. As they climbed the hillside, the view on both sides of the road gradually opened up, and before they knew it, they were climbing higher and higher.

The hills here undulated like waves, and the slopes were covered with vibrant flowers. If one ignored the stern army behind him and focused solely on the princess in her armor beside him, it would have been a perfect place for a tryst. The iron hooves of the warhorses trampled through the flowers, followed by the crunching of artillery carts and the muddy boots of the mercenaries. The entire army formed a long line, leaving behind a messy trail of marching tracks.

Soon after, not only did the goblins report again, but scouts also returned with reports of an unusually dark sky ahead, shrouded in an ominous aura, and of a caravan being attacked on the road. Cesar climbed to the top of a hill and gazed into the distance, only to discover that the mining town, where it should have been, had vanished, sunken into a vast, meteorite-like hole. Using a telescope, he spotted a few isolated houses at the edge, also sunk into the crater, with only the roof tiles visible.

If you stand on flat ground and look out, it is impossible to see where the town is.

The road from the distant town, sunken into the crater, to this hillside wasn't long. A few buildings dotted the outskirts: a small, isolated church, a farmhouse with a barn and a windmill, and the rest were abandoned. The closer we got to the town, the darker the sky grew. The sun stagnated through a gap in the clouds, casting a hazy light. The chill grew stronger, and Cesar could smell the scent of blood dripping down like a fine rain, settling in his hair and seeping into his lips, intoxicating him.

It was a blood sacrifice, and if he was at the center of it, no doubt...

Altinya reached out and patted him on the shoulder, and Cesar shuddered, realizing something was wrong. The remnants of the distant blood sacrifice gave him an instinctive longing, like encountering a source of water in a dry desert.

The army continued forward, maintaining vigilance. As they descended the hillside, they found the carriage they'd reported attacked. Cesar reined in his horse and stopped not far from the carriage. A large number of mangled corpses lay scattered about. "It looks completely different than before," Cesar said, peering into the surrounding trees. He didn't see any human skin hanging from the branches. "Based on your experience, what does this scene mean?"

"Such scenes are common in the suburbs of the Empire; what we saw yesterday was quite unusual," Altinya said, ordering the soldiers to search for the bodies before riding closer. The carriage leaned askew against the old crooked tree, its body shattered and its wheels sunk in the mud. It looked as if it had been overturned by brute force and landed against the tree.

The soldiers quickly located all the dead. Two of the victims were found on the wagon. They appeared to be traveling merchants, wearing expensive clothing. One had his head smashed flat on a chair, and another had his chest and stomach completely devoured. His clothes were torn and stained with the remnants of his viscera. The others were scattered haphazardly throughout the forest, their bodies a mess. The predators had been reckless, sometimes leaving only a leg uneaten, sticking out of the bushes like a curious work of art.

The caravans and their guards, Cesar thought, were not reliable, their equipment and weapons were not much different from those of mercenaries. The goods they carried were scattered everywhere, including farm tools, kettles, pots and spices. The predators did not care about them and had no intention of robbing them, they just wanted to eat.

Altiniya squatted beside the corpse and carefully observed the wounds of the deceased. Some mercenaries wanted to take some jewelry and valuables from the corpse, but she let herself

"I hope the corpse collection will only be done by a dedicated collector when we are certain everything is safe," she said. "Of course, you will be paid, but if you disrupt the team and cause an attack, I will punish all involved according to military law."

"Does this happen often?" Cesar asked her.

"What do you mean, sir? An attack on the corpse collectors? This is indeed a common occurrence. Some Beastmen have a habit of ambushing corpse collectors. The Empire will bring at least one column to deal with corpses on the battlefield, fully armed and on guard."

"What is the identity of the attacker?"

"I'm not sure," she continued, mounting her horse. "But judging by the bodies at the scene, the attackers were just a small group of beastmen. Otherwise, there wouldn't even be bones left near the carriage. Combined with the previous estimate of the size of the beastmen, they must have either gotten lost or been abandoned by the shaman."

"That is to say, there will be many small groups of beastmen like this in the suburbs," said Cesar.

Altinya spurred her horse forward. "While they may not pose a threat to the army, our logistics routes will be affected. Transport teams will need more escorts, and merchants will be unable to travel normally between towns." She rubbed her jaw, her gaze shifting from their route to the town. "Compared to bandits and refugees, these creatures are harder to track down and eliminate, and they pose a more serious threat. If that unidentified shaman continues south and performs more blood sacrifices, these small groups of beastmen will spread even more, preying on the land like hyenas."

"These days, there are more and more things that make people feel miserable."

"If you get used to the gradual changes here, you won't have to go through the process of accepting reality when you reach the Empire." Altinia said with a slightly helpless expression, "It's even more cruel over there. Sometimes, the beastmen aren't necessarily more cruel than we are."

Cesar met her gaze, "You're thinking of saying Olidan isn't far off."

"It depends on how intense the struggle between the nobles and the royal family is, and how much they are willing to pay for it," she said.

Beyond the carriage, the terrain gradually flattened and opened up. Artinya believed the lost or abandoned beasts were likely nearby, not yet fully dispersed, and the site of the blood sacrifice would be a perfect nesting place. Therefore, the troops were even more vigilant than before.

They arrived at the farm first, and were met with a stench of swelling and decay. Scouts discovered a trench at the edge of the farm's walls, where dozens of rotting corpses huddled. They were huddled together, many indistinguishable from one another. Arms entwined like webs, their faces buried in their ruptured bellies, a slough of rotting flesh. Their cloudy eyes stared up at the gray sky, their gaping mouths stuffed with dirt and scraps of flesh.

After inspecting the rest of the farm, the army continued forward. Before they had advanced far, a sudden, clamorous shouting erupted, spreading from a small group to a chorus of voices. Artinia shouted for the troops to turn, ordering the lagging musketeers to set up their pike formations, leaving a gap in the center for the cavalry and artillery. Cesar rode through the ranks, heading for the source of the movement, and suddenly realized it was in the direction of the trench. Beyond the throng of spears and the throng of moving heads, a massive, bloated mass of flesh rose higher and higher.

Cavalrymen darted through the gaps to the flanks, musketeers nervously loaded their rounds, and artillerymen maneuvered their guns, searching for positions to fire. But the abomination had already taken shape. The corpses, like maggots, gathered in a heap, forming a bloated, fat mollusk that resembled a giant maggot.

It twitched and rolled on the ground, its body as thick as a house. Its skin was wrinkled with the rotting corpses of humans, covered in deformed faces and viscera, its protruding bones like sharp bristles. Struggling and twitching, it struggled to climb out of the trench, its filthy human arms and legs entwined, tangled like a maggot. Dozens of disgusting, short legs and feet gripped the ground and struggled to move upward.

The giant human maggot struggled out of the trench with a terrifying aura, then rushed towards the army at an alarming speed, leaving fragments scattered all over the ground. Seeing the scattered human corpses crawling on the ground with the giant maggot, many people shouted out a series of gods' names in shock.

Chapter 192: Stay Here and Command Me

The deformed monster rushed towards the army, its short legs moving frantically, so fast that it seemed to be twitching. Cesar couldn't tell whether it was a maggot or an inchworm.

Under the volley of musket fire, it splattered blood, and the corpses piled on its body were shattered, and more and more pieces of broken flesh were scattered in its path. Despite this, its momentum remained undiminished. If it crashed into the spear formation, it would surely crush a large number of soldiers and chew and tear even more people into pieces in the rotten fluid and bone spurs.

Fortunately, the artillery was already in position. The shells roared, piercing the monster's voluptuous frame, shattering everything it touched like glass. Under the bombardment, its body was crushed to pieces, scattering in a cloud of smoke-filled fragments. But it continued to move, gripping the ground with its many short, misshapen legs, straining its body to pull forward. Its midsection, squeezed upward by its head and tail, swayed and rocked in midair.

Is this how the maggots seem to bounce forward?

Cesar couldn't imagine what the scene would be like if this giant human maggot crashed into the army formation and rolled around. At this time, Artinya instructed the artillery to switch to grenades. The roar became more intense, and the evil monster was instantly blown in half, splitting into two heavy pieces.

From the gaps in the spear formation, more than a dozen cans of burning kerosene were thrown, splattering all over the maggots. The debris on the ground burned, as did the pile of corpses soaked in kerosene. Human faces, squeezed and distorted, gaped their mouths, emitting shrill cries. They frantically stretched their rotting arms, trying to reach the creatures before them, but they had already transformed into blazing torches, forming flames over ten meters high that illuminated the entire farm.

"Turn!" Artinia shouted. "Don't be fooled by the bait. The beastmen are charging!"

The shout alerted Cesar. He looked toward the town's pit and saw only a small group of beastmen. He realized they were scouts. Although Altinia had said the failed creatures lacked intelligence and the shamans were reluctant to take them south, they seemed to understand tactics.

But why do they understand tactics? Is it an instinct passed down through their bloodline? Or is it some kind of accumulated group memory?

Both are possible, but the latter can explain more things.

If the Beastmen possess a growing collective memory, then the memory of their enslavement by the Kasar Empire will also accumulate. Whether a Beastmen is newly born or forcibly transformed, millennia of enslavement are deeply imprinted in their collective memory, influencing their every move. Those with intelligence are less so, but those with less intelligence may not be able to distinguish between collective memory and their own. For those who have failed to transform, I'm afraid they have no sense of self, merely continuous, mechanical behavior...

Flesh and blood puppet?

The army turned again, forming a battle formation to face the enemy. Cesar rode up to Artinia. She looked like she wanted to lead the cavalry charge, but he put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. "You stay here and command," he said. "You can also command me."

She opened her eyes slightly, "Sir..."

"Don't speak to me in such a gentle tone." Cesar looked toward the town, toward the hybrid beastmen emerging from the pit. "You are the best commander. I am merely the one who draws the blueprint and gives you direction. You can command and control the battlefield as an extension of your sword, rather than charging into battle with our limited cavalry. You can already command everyone from this spot. The rest of the matters can be left to those who obey your command."

"But you shouldn't be charging into battle, Mr. Cesar," Altinia said, her tone still strangely gentle. "There are so many things about you that are irreplaceable. I can't imagine losing any of them."

"There aren't many people here who are suitable to lead the charge against those crazy beasts. You must be the only commander, and at least I am not afraid of death."

She frowned, "Alright, but next time you have to do it, I'll make sure to find someone who can take on the responsibility for us."

"You can't create such a person out of thin air."

Cesar said, then buckled his visor and rode forward, riding the herd of goblins forced to disguise themselves as horses. As the two mages delved deeper into their research, his armor grew heavier, and no normal horse could bear it. However, the cursed who barely maintained a human body and the herd of monsters barely disguised as horses might just be a good match.

He didn't transform them into mimic red dragons simply because of practical considerations, though it wasn't impossible. Even in their armored warhorse form, they still bared their sharp teeth and spewed blood, clearly hungry for fresh flesh.

These scarlet goblins were obsessed with blood and pain, but they also insisted on killing higher beings rather than lower beings. No matter how much Cesar insisted that mice, humans, and beastmen were all flesh, they would not listen. If he didn't perform blood sacrifices like a cultist, he would have to rely on war.

Cesar, wearing full armor, galloped on his horse, leading a part of the cavalry to the right wing, while the light cavalry with muskets on the left wing was commanded by Varedo. This knight had experienced a lot and was experienced in horseback shooting and agility. In all aspects, he was very good at

He obeyed his orders and ever since he learned about his relationship with the princess, Varedo regarded him as a reliance for future promotion.

Initially, he'd found these minor nobles difficult to trust, but now it seemed he still understood too little about the ways of the young nobles. As long as they weren't the eldest son of a family, as long as they didn't come from a prominent noble family with which to shelter, the aspiring young nobles would naturally band together and seek other paths forward. In today's world of imperial descendants with military power, territories, and empires, many would disregard their original families as long as they could gain a foothold.

The battle horn sounded, calling the men to battle. Pikes rose up in a forest, musketeers lined up among them, ready to fire, and artillerymen began adjusting their muzzle angles according to the directions given by the lookouts, preparing to respond in the most reliable way to the unknown enemy emerging from the pit.

The sky remained dark, even tinged with blood near the giant crater near the town. The land at the edge shone crimson, as if a bloody rain had fallen. Cesar felt the smell of blood grow stronger, driving his mind wildly and causing the flesh beneath his armor to surge with ecstatic desire. His violent panting echoed beneath his visor, transforming into heavy hisses—even when he was making love, his panting wasn't as heavy as this.

Chapter 193 Blood and Flesh Pit

The farms in the suburbs weren't far from the town, and from there, they could see the long-laid-in ambush beastmen suddenly climbing out of the giant pit and charging while they were dealing with the human maggots. If it weren't for the careful handling just now, the troops would have been thrown into disarray. If the pile of corpses had been allowed to break apart and crash into the crowd, the ensuing chaos would have been exhausting, with a hasty engagement followed by heavy casualties.

Cesar had been exhausted lately, struggling to focus on much. Even if his reflexes were still there, he wouldn't be as quick to make practical decisions as Altinia. His battlefield command was mediocre, not much better than that of Varedo, who had led nearly half his knights to their deaths. His victories relied on pre-battle preparations and intelligence discrepancies. During the actual battle, he, like Varedo, made many assumptions.

When they attacked the smuggling group, despite the Faceless One's guarantee, the reinforcements didn't arrive as quickly as he'd imagined. Every front was collapsing. If he hadn't guarded the command post and tricked the school's mage with a letter, even if Gouzi had arrived, he would have been forced to join the fleeing remnants.

This was the case in many similar situations: he prepared thoroughly beforehand, but was often caught off guard when the battle began, often encountering unexpected troubles. If he hadn't resorted to off-the-battlefield tactics to turn the tide, he would have suffered a similar fate to Varedo.

However, Gonzales' night battle was different. Altinya was not only a remarkably responsive battlefield commander, but also a tactical reformer adept at integrating theory with practical application. Simply by providing inspiration, she could produce practical improvements. Seeing his theoretical ideas, she not only corrected their shortcomings but also put them to practical use, easily breaching Gonzales's stronghold with her own skill.

Cesar believes that people who are good at something should be given the place where they belong.

The staff system must have a backbone. If it relies entirely on inferior products to discuss strategies, it will not be able to support a solid fortress.

The warhorse galloped forward, closing in on the flank of the beast herd. Cesar ended his thoughts, abandoning the battlefield maneuvers he no longer wanted to analyze. He finally saw those mysterious hybrid beastmen up close. There were so many unbelievable rumors about them, and here he finally saw them clearly.

Some people's bodies were covered in a jumble of wild animal limbs, some clenched into fists, others waving wildly, appearing to be in a state of extreme rage. Some had numerous eyeballs, rolling around in the blurry hollows of their faces. Some were the eyes of livestock, some were human, and some were even the compound eyes of insects. Horns and bone spurs protruded hideously from some people's heads and bodies, some curved and massive, others small and sharp, intricately distributed throughout their bodies. Some had multiple mouths panting and howling, emitting the sounds of various animals. Human mouths were next to bird beaks, and bird beaks were next to the large mouths of pigs.

A tangled web of fur tangled together, cloven hooves and curved claws pounded the earth, creating a heavy sound. Pile upon pile of pig flesh rippled, trembling against the withered legs of an old cow. The jumbled limbs, held together by jagged tendons on jagged bones, exerted their force in a strangely coordinated manner, making them look absurd to the extreme.

Despite this, the beasts still ran very fast.

After admiring their forms, Cesar understood what a defective product of failed transformation was. However, he didn't think the hybrid beastmen who followed the shaman would be much better than them.

Across the thick smoke and flying dust, one could see wave after wave of Beastmen charging towards the army, facing the artillery bombardment, completely unconcerned about their own casualties. They also ignored the cavalry that circled and pressed their flanks, like a group of foolish and fearless beasts.

The soldiers in the front row raised their muskets, much taller than a man, to resist the impact. The musketeers marched forward from the gaps in the ranks, placing the butts of their muskets on the ground. Bending, standing, and kneeling on one knee, the three rows of soldiers followed the command and fired volleys. The sound was as loud as thunder and, for a moment, it drowned out the roar of the artillery.

The high-density volleys ensured a high level of casualties and compensated for the mercenaries' spotty accuracy. Large groups of Beastmen screamed and roared, falling to the ground with blood splattering. Beastmen further behind them stepped over their corpses, charging through the pungent smoke and continuing to charge towards the front of the army.

After firing the volley, the musketeers quickly retreated into their gun formations, crossing paths with the next group of musketeers, who had loaded their gunpowder. The cannons in the rear exploded again, and grapeshot pelted the densely packed charge, instantly crushing the hordes of evil monsters and raising dust clouds like sandstorms. The shells hurled disorganized limbs into the air, shattered the deformed bodies, and disintegrated the resulting monstrosities into pieces of bloody flesh, scattering them in all directions.

Amidst the frantic howling, Cesar could still hear rumbling cries and see beastmen who were not yet dead running towards the army one after another and falling one after another. They seemed to have a collective memory and understood basic tactics, knew how to set ambushes and use human maggots as bait to launch surprise attacks, but beyond this collective memory, they seemed to have only foolish instincts.

After launching the charge, the herd forgot everything.

Not to mention expressing emotions such as fear, Cesar felt that they did not even have the ability to distinguish the battlefield situation. Many of them even ran forward alone and then bumped into many long flat objects.

The spears were riddled with holes, like hedgehogs. Even in death, the beastmen's bodies still gritted their teeth, as if about to let out a final, frantic howl.

In earlier times, they may indeed have been excellent soldiers without fear, fighting to the last man and refusing to retreat, infuriating their enemies in various ways. But nowadays, many qualities associated with bravery no longer hold much meaning.

The ragged remnants of the Beastmen burst out of the smoke and charged into the lance array. The musket-wielding cavalry, already inflicting enough casualties, now shifted formation in response to the trumpet call, charging from behind and on the sides, completely destroying the last of their threat. They completely fragmented the initially dense herd, reducing it to isolated, scattering, mindless beasts.

A massive bull-headed monster, covered in bone spurs, attempted to wield a farm tool it had found on the farm, but before it could swing its arms, it was pierced by more than a dozen spears. The spearmen's hands, holding their lances, were so far away that even its three arms combined could not reach them.

After admiring their performance, Cesar understood why the Kasar Empire was able to use the Beastmen to intimidate all kingdoms. As valiant military slaves, no human race could be more reliable than them.

The battle ended faster than expected, and silence gradually fell. Altinia ordered the surviving beastmen to be restrained and tied up with ropes, and brought back to camp at night. With Diana there, she might be able to analyze something about these abandoned beasts.

......

Cesar knew they had fulfilled their mission as soldiers, but as mercenaries, they couldn't return home empty-handed after a victory. He and Artinia led their troops forward, taking the most secure path from the edge of town. The inhabitants were dead, but their treasures remained. As a mining town, even if their finds couldn't offset the economic losses from gunpowder and artillery shells, they couldn't return empty-handed.

The pit wasn't particularly steep, but many of the tall buildings looked precarious. They tilted, twisted, and hunched, like elderly people unable to support their own weight, ready to collapse with the slightest push. Fortunately, compared to the overcrowded high-rise buildings of Neuen, this town consisted mostly of low-rise buildings. By carefully avoiding the frail elderly, they could avoid the threat. Their last option was to take the road along the edge of the slums, following the main road down to a viscous, bloody den at the end.

A group of soldiers overturned a dangerous building outside the square and found what appeared to be the local treasurer's belongings among the rubble. More soldiers followed suit, systematically tackling the less dilapidated and impoverished buildings in the town. They stuffed small, valuable items into their clothes and, at the command of their officers, worked together to dig out larger objects from under the rubble and move them to the avenue adjacent to the slums.

While the soldiers worked, Cesar circled the sticky pit in the center of the town. After going deep into the ruins of the town, he found that although the sky above the town was gloomy and lingered with traces of magic, the ground of the town was no longer threatening. The only exception was the pit in front of him, which no one dared to go down.

He peered down with his third vision and saw a blood-red curtain blurring the boundaries of reality. At the bottom of the pit, there was also a large amount of red mist invisible to human senses lingering, like the poisonous smoke left after burning sulfur.

Cesar gestured for the guards to hold the pit, and he himself rode down the edge on the goblins' disguised warhorses. As soon as he reached the cave, he felt his movements were hampered, slow and suffocating, like wading in a damp, muddy swamp, which itself was formed by extremely thick fog.

The horse's hooves treaded across the sticky ground, sending the red mist swirling, stirring it and gradually fading, becoming thinner and thinner. Cesar discovered that goblins were drawing poisonous fumes from the pit. The foul mist carried a faint whisper, like a ghostly curse that clung to those who came. This mist seemed alive, but it was not as deadly as the blood mist that had transformed into his own after the Dao lost its self. It simply lingered around his skin, lingering for a long time, as if it was seeping into his heart and brain, leading him to the scenes witnessed by some before their death and all the pain they felt.

What can he see?