Shadow of the Evil God

Who could blame him for dwelling on that history of failure? A thousand years later, Nauzog finally returned to the place where Soleil had slain him. That year, the exiled Franks were nearly annihilated, a single blow. But then, with the gaze of the gods upon them, those warriors returned to reality. The bravest among them possessed a fragment of a forgotten and destroyed deity, allowing it to manifest within her. Soleil, transformed from a mortal into a god walking the earth, led the gods' chosen in a rebellion as Lord of the Skies, achieving groundbreaking results.

But why was she not promoted to a god in later generations and was completely forgotten by the Franks?

Perhaps it was a war between gods, he thought, an eternal struggle, a struggle that extended from the outer realms to reality...

Nauzog walked through the refugee group, those he bumped into glaring at him sullenly. He studied these people's emotions, savoring their many inner desires. He discovered that after thousands of years of rule, far from falling into the same plight as the Kuna, they had become even more barbaric, chaotic, and cruel. Stable and rigid rule was gone, replaced only by slaughter and war.

The Franks seemed to possess a natural brutality, unable even to distinguish between enemies and allies. A garrison in a distant town sacked a village under their control. Numerous men, with their ears and noses cut off and their mouths filled with molten lead, were hung from tree branches. Women, raped and murdered, lay lying in the houses. Ovens were filled with children, reduced to charcoal. Each death was artistic.

Nauzog, curiously transformed into a human, traced the source of the attack and was surprised to discover that the cause was actually quite common: the local garrison commander had no money to pay salaries, so he found a village with overdue taxes and allowed the soldiers, who were filled with resentment and on the verge of rebellion, to vent their anger.

After learning the truth, Nauzog immediately understood why the shaman's rituals were not respected.

Note. The nation of Olidan erupted in civil war over who would rule. Whether it was the king or the nobles, every authority seeking to monopolize power was burdened with an army they couldn't afford. However, someone had to pay the price, and if they couldn't, then relocation to various villages and towns was a natural outcome.

The destruction of a village or town was not a big deal during this period. Even if the enemies in the civil war did not attack, they would still attack for their own purposes. It seemed that these settlements were like mushrooms after rain. When they were needed, they could be cut down to satisfy their hunger. When they were not needed, they would grow back on their own.

Nauzog silently descended the town's sinkhole and found the remaining debris and cursed corpses dead. True to the refugees' words, an army had arrived and wiped out all the threats. Not only that, they had also overturned many houses and taken away all valuables. The refugees, now rushing here, could only scavenge scraps.

He walked through the alleys, admiring the collapsed buildings with inexplicable interest. On the way, Nauzog encountered a swordsman blocking his path, but he paid no attention. He reached out and grasped the man's forehead, gently pressing his fingers into it. The touch was like cracking a soft egg, oozing a large amount of sticky liquid. Compared to the refugees he didn't even bother to look at, this man had a delicious taste and a fragrant aroma, and seemed more than just an ordinary swordsman.

Nauzog walked through the alleys the soldiers had frequented, surveying the ruins and mud as he went. He noticed the trampling of horses' hooves and the heavy ruts of carts. The air was filled not only with the scent of humans and livestock, but also with the stench of gunpowder that permeated the Kingdom of Olidan, and a familiar, malevolent atmosphere.

Could it be that those annoying little creatures have turned to humans in order to eat their own people?

Nauzog felt a deep sense of regret as he thought of the fragmented Beastmen Covenant after the passing of the First Ones. Without the First Ones' restraint, some groups, careless about the greater good, immediately became the source of internal strife. The reasons for rebellion varied widely, and the elves, taking advantage of the chaos, infiltrated the other groups to hunt and devour them. While not the most vicious, they were certainly the most annoying.

If he hadn't died too early, he would have found these annoying little creatures one by one and crushed them to death.

Nauzog fiddled with his newly acquired longsword, observing the ornamentation on the hilt. He found it possessed a remarkable artistic beauty, reminding him of the Kuna warriors. Those graceful men cared more about art than martial prowess, their inner explorations as always. However, once they were reduced to shattered, rotten flesh, their former selves were meaningless.

He walked closer to the center of the ceremony and found several people hiding in a house. Each of them was full of life and spirit, completely different from the refugees outside the town. While guessing the purpose of this group of people, he reached out to press on the door, but because it was locked tightly, he accidentally tore it apart.

Wood splinters burst, sending sawdust flying everywhere. Dozens of hands quickly reached for weapons at their waists, taking defensive stances against him. Nauzog saw ornately decorated swords, poison-coated crossbows, muskets engraved with gold thread and ornamentation, a middle-aged wizard, five men, two women, and two mannequins—artificial beings seemingly created by wizards or temples. Each of them looked well-off and shouldn't have come to this ruin to scavenge the army's scraps.

"Have you been waiting for a long time?" Nauzog asked them in the Frankish language.

"I've been waiting for a long time." Someone examined the longsword in his hand, as if believing it to be the man he had just crushed. "I heard the employer has hired a famous swordsman, but why do you look more like a barbarian?"

"You locked the door too tightly." Nauzog said lightly, although he had no idea what was going on.

"I hope you understand what we are doing." The other man said in a low voice.

"They've arrived," the middle-aged wizard suddenly spoke up. He seemed to be the leader of the operation. "It's confirmed. It's the teleportation spell of the Yesterlen School. Whatever you were arguing about just now, stop it now."

"They?" Nauzog became intrigued. Frankish mages were not only divided into factions, but it sounded like there were even school wars?

"This is General Clifas's order. I hope you'll remember it clearly," a dummy suddenly spoke. "Subdue the young successor of the Yesterlen School with the Secret Stone and hand him over to the Origin Society's Hisai School in exchange for support. Bring the Third Princess, Artinia, back to the palace unharmed, and ensure her marriage to the general's legitimate son. Do your best to keep Miss Rhine alive, and kill all other companions, especially those who enslaved her. Bring back their heads."

"Are you sure they are all here?" asked Nauzog.

"The first one will be there anyway."

"I don't even know which one is which. How can you be sure you got the right person?"

"Why do you have so many questions?" The dummy became impatient with him.

Chapter 198 You'd better leave first

"I'm worried that I won't be able to stop myself when I kill someone," Nauzog explained.

"I'll mark each target," the middle-aged mage said. "The Yesterlen School has captured a mage from the Xisai School and murdered the envoy investigating their past. Since they want to spark a war between the schools, we're happy to accept their request. The one who's been interfering most in worldly affairs lately is this Diana. You, the ones holding the Ritual Stone, must subdue her. You don't need to ensure her body remains intact; you can hand her over alive to the school for interrogation. Her long, light green hair is easily recognizable; you won't see it in the secular world."

Nauzog had not only seen them, but also understood why they existed. Some human mages sought to bear children with the humanoids of the wasteland, in order to continue their bloodline as much as possible. Their facial features were very distinct.

"How can we identify the third princess?" he continued to ask, acting like a reckless man who had rushed here at night but had forgotten his mission.

"The Kasar Empire is a multi-ethnic nation." The middle-aged mage spoke patiently. It seemed that his school of Hisai also needed General Clefas. "A silver-haired people hold various high-level positions in the Kasar Empire, with status equal to that of the nobility. The one with violet eyes is a direct descendant of the Prime Minister. You have to understand that this is the northern town of Olidan, and aside from the Third Princess, no one else nearby has similar features. As for Miss Rhine, her golden-red hair and rosy eyes are also very distinctive. She is the general's distant niece, a member of a noble lineage, and she can be spotted in a crowd at a glance."

"I'm shocked to hear about so many distinguished people at once." Nauzog said as he walked to the window and looked at the deep pit of flesh and blood outside the house. "How did you find out that such a big man would travel alone?" he asked.

"I won't go into the temple's intelligence and the power struggles within it," the dummy replied. It seemed he was the temple's dummy. "That black-haired, black-eyed man is completely nondescript, a common sight in Auridan," the dummy added, his expression tinged with personal resentment. "If I had to say, I'd say he bears a resemblance to the Sassulai. But he carries the aura of an ancient, forgotten temple—beware the wolf spirit."

Another forgotten god, Nauzog thought. This is getting more interesting. If those elves had chosen the Chosen One instead of ordinary humans, they would have had good judgment.

He withdrew his gaze from the window, sizing up the humans and inhumans in the room. "Are you sure we can handle a chosen one? Even if it's just a forgotten beast god?"

"There's no Chosen One, my friend. Only a wretch fleeing in panic under the gaze of the Eye of the Forge." The dummy narrowed its eyes at him. Nauzog was now completely certain that the two dummies were the remnants of Sagaros's forge, scraps filled with broken desires. "That wretch has been on the run in the wasteland for a long, long time," the dummy added. "Now the temple has lost its patience and must intervene in his will while he's still lucid. You need not consider this man's existence; you only need to deal with the others. Do you understand?"

"Whatever," Nauzog said indifferently, "I just want to get the reward. I don't care about the quality of my companions."

"I'm very pleased," the dummy said. "I hope you're truly a trustworthy swordsman, as General Clifford said."

"I think the General has the wrong man," the man who had initially dismissed him as a barbarian suddenly said. "I've heard he's a highly skilled swordsman, handsome and lithe, highly praised. But this fellow looks thick-set and clumsy, with the face of an ape. I think we've been tricked, and someone has claimed the reward in his stead."

Nauzog stared at the man for a while. "You're a man, why do you care whether another man is handsome or slim? Do you think that a man like that would give you a different kind of pleasure if he poked your asshole?"

The dummy's patience instantly ran out. "I don't want to hear you arguing about your quirks in this situation! Just focus on your respective duties. Those holding the Ritual Stone will deal with the wizard, and the rest of you will be responsible for your guards. There won't be many people following the teleportation spell. This is a safe job. We've tracked the traces of the teleportation spell all the way here just to deal with the most troublesome wizard, understand? No civil unrest is allowed in this place, and General Cleface won't give anyone else a single extra penny for the death of someone."

"Of course I understand," Nauzog said. "It's just a matter of killing. If you can demonstrate your professionalism, I can do the same."

......

Nauzog wondered what had become of the forgotten beast god, wondering how, having lost all its followers, it could once again interfere with reality. If the deity manifested in the wolf could be resurrected, what about Soleil? Could she return from the lost age of the gods and grant him some of his most humble wishes?

He was very patient now, more patient than he had ever been in his life, especially with humans and fake people. He felt like he was becoming a saint.

Nauzog walked through the broken window of a mansion and into a hall that looked quite luxurious and solemn. He realized that this might be the residence of a local noble. The mansion had been first bloodbathed during a ritual sacrifice, and then the soldiers who were fighting against the beastmen had left it bare, leaving no valuables. He walked slowly along the corridor, admiring it with great interest for a while, and found that not only were the tiles knocked bare, but the wallpaper was also damaged.

They stripped it of everything, even taking out all the wine from the wine cellar.

He had returned to the ruins of the town hoping to sample the winemaking techniques of the era, but since the army had already visited, he should have anticipated that there would be nothing left in the cellar.

In the previous era, Nauzog often disguised himself as a human, traveling between the various exiled tribes to observe their activities. He only stopped after several tribes were annihilated and his face, known as an ape, became infamous. Now, thousands of years later, after all was forgotten, this experience suddenly brought back much of his former interest.

As one of the many warriors who were remembered by the true God after offering enough blood sacrifices, he had no divine understanding and no abnormal desires. However, when it came to perfect knowledge and understanding of humanity and even the entire history, he believed that he was no worse than humanity itself.

The warriors remembered by the true God can always be called back to the world through sacrificial rituals. Therefore, as long as all the shamans in the world are not eliminated, and even as long as all the creatures that can communicate with the true God are not eliminated, he will always have the opportunity to travel back and forth between the world again and again.

Nauzog walked to the wine cellar and stared at the empty cellar for a while.

"What are you doing here—"

He slapped back, the back of his hand against his cheek, sending the head of the man obsessed with the handsome swordsman flying against the cellar wall, where it became a mess of rotten flesh. "Among the soul-stirring temple monks, the slag of Sagaros's furnace, and the fire-breathing school mages, we two really don't fit in," Nauzog said to the rotten flesh on the wall. "You should leave first. I think General Clefas is a bit of a misjudge."

Chapter 199: You seem to have brought too many friends

......

Cesar leaned against the edge of the pit, kneading his brows, panting heavily in the damp evening breeze. Diana had said she had considerable experience studying cryptic manuscripts and exploring the extensions of the teleportation spell, so tonight she had brought not only him and Firth, but also the Faceless Ones and the group of goblins. As a result, he felt delirious, his nerves numb, his limbs twitching, and his eyes twitching with the sight he had just witnessed.

Neither Firth nor Diana's reactions were as severe as his, but they were different. He was an alien, barely clinging to a human shell. The little goblins could disintegrate, rejoicing in their frenzied feelings, and the Faceless Ones could bloom like flowers, catching the moonlight. He couldn't—or rather, he didn't want to. Often, simply releasing his cravings would have made him feel better, but he simply wanted to hold it in.

"Stop screaming in my ears!" Cesar shooed away the goblins that were flying around his head. They flew around him like a swarm of locusts, screaming or laughing, which was really tormenting his eardrums.

While ordinary spells allow the recipient to approach the third horizon, teleportation spells allow the recipient to enter it. They must penetrate the surface of the real world in which living beings exist and reach the essence of the world, using that layer where the passage of time, the vastness of distance, and even the differences between human beings are meaningless as a springboard. In this way, they can travel from one area of ​​reality to another.

While Diana performed the spell, Cesar felt the world was an infinitesimal point, with no here and no there. All the different locations in the outside world were imaginary, or rather, all the same place. She identified each location through memory and experience. She herself had never been to the ruins of the town, but he had, so she approached his soul, tracing his path back to the places he had visited in the past few days, and through him, she was transported to the Pit of Flesh and Blood.

This spell brings a person closer to his true nature, but his true nature...

"You and I are one, Master." The dog smiled at him, a smile of joy and intoxicating beauty, but only the left half of her face was human. Her entire right side blossomed in the moonlight, like a silvery vine covering an area of ​​four or five meters. Those mad little goblins sat on her blossoming limbs like birds perched on branches. Watching this scene, Cesar felt like he was having a nightmare.

Anyone he described this scene to would be considered a madman and a lunatic.

Firth crouched beside him, reaching out to push aside the slime from the deep pit of flesh and blood. Her blood-red fingers lifted upward, and a crimson, damp, almost inhuman corpse, suspended from invisible threads like a puppet, rose from her fingertips. Diana, the eldest daughter of a duke and a representative of civilized society, showed no revulsion at the sight of the mutilated body. She simply bent down to carefully examine the dissolving area. "The internal organs will dissolve first," she said.

César suspected that anyone who harbored a crush on the eldest daughter of the Duke's family would believe they were dreaming a nightmare and refuse to accept the reality of what they were witnessing. In fact, he too found the scene utterly absurd. As the two of them surveyed the remains of the sacrificial ground, the goblins fell into the pit of flesh and blood, disappearing like blood-red leeches into a swamp.

In fact, he had not seen the underground vengeful spirits they reported, but from this scene, it seemed that the vengeful spirits underground would not live long.

Cesar forced himself to calm down, forced himself to breathe more evenly, and tried his best to calm his thoughts. He had been immersed in the busyness of the world for too long recently, running around in the wilderness at night, and he almost forgot the true nature of himself and the people and things around him.

In fact, Cecilia had also concealed the reason for his curse from him, but her reason for doing so was different from Diana's.

Cecia concealed the truth from him because she believed the person she accepted was more trustworthy than the ancient legends. She had indeed struggled and hesitated when making the decision. Diana accepted the matter with indifference; at that time, they had only met twice. Her concealment of the path to his curse had nothing to do with acceptance—she was a mage of the Origin Society, and to her, this matter was simply a difficult research topic.

And there is Fils. She said that she had been trapped in a dark and terrifying castle for more than ten years, but she did not dislike those horrible things, and her soul was not damaged. She was just resentful of the old count's behavior of treating her as a coolie and not teaching her any knowledge. She just wanted to have her own testing ground and her own path to true knowledge.

His relationship with Firth was by no means the traditional heroic story of rescuer and rescued. To be realistic, it wasn't even close. It would be more accurate to describe him as a liar full of promises and an ignorant girl abducted by him. Those who were truly terrified and fearful in the Count's castle were all on the altar. Within two weeks, no trace of their remains would remain, their disappearance from the world in the most complete way possible.

The Faceless One is an alien being born from the flesh and blood of the sacrificial offering whose body is no longer found.

Cesar suddenly realized he was the most normal person in this pit of flesh and blood. Thinking of this, he couldn't help but rub his brow even harder, as if he had been infected by Diana's habit. She had tried so hard to control herself in the past, and now, it was his turn to do the same. He reached out and took a ball of heart that melted like a candle, feeling it even warm as it flowed through his fingers.

Exploring the Flesh and Blood Pit actually had nothing to do with him, at least he hoped

Hopefully, it won't matter. He didn't care about the ritual blood, not as much as maintaining the army and logistics. At the bottom of the Flesh Pit, goblins scrambled for the shaman's leftovers, and the occasional shrill wail of ghosts echoed. The Faceless Ones blossomed in the moonlight, completely losing their human form. Like a horrific puppet troupe, the two mages lifted up one half-melted corpse after another, dangling them from mid-air. Soon, dozens of remains were hanging, transforming the Flesh Pit into a grotesque slaughterhouse.

If he had seen such a scene in his previous life, he might have fainted from fright, or he might have turned around and fled in panic, the farther the better.

But now, Cesar just stood there numbly, taking from the two of them the suspicious parts that were said to be worthy of research, and placing them on the ground at his feet in categories.

At this moment, the dog suddenly closed her fragmented limbs and mimicked a human form, looking like an open hand clenched into a fist. "Something different is coming," she said.

"Scavengers?" Cesar looked suspiciously at the leaning buildings outside the pit. "How could anyone dare to come down in this situation?"

"I'm not sure." Gouzi said, "They are hidden very well. We have to tear them apart piece by piece to find out what they are, from the arms, from the thighs, or from the nails..."

Cesar motioned her to stop, "Are you saying they're not human?"

“Some aren’t, and some aren’t entirely.”

"You said there are other people and non-humans here? I clearly cast a spell to reveal the existence of others." Diana came closer. She heard their conversation.

"The secret stone?" Cesar turned to her and asked.

Diana shook her head. "The Ritual Stone will have a destructive effect, more severe than the revelation of the spell itself."

"Perhaps," Firth suddenly said, "someone knows how to target and break your school's spells? I've been gathering information about the Origin Society. Although I haven't been there yet, I've heard many stories about the school wars."

Diana frowned. "School wars? There are indeed records of such things. Mages would start with looting, then assassination, and then a larger-scale covert confrontation. As long as the confrontation is not exposed to others, people will do anything extremely cruel. But why..."

"Do you still remember the mage who accepted the job?" Cesar suddenly remembered his experience of raiding the smuggling team.

"That level of confrontation shouldn't spark a school war," Diana objected. "The act of hiring someone implies taking responsibility for their own life and death. Even if someone is captured alive, and some schools are suspected of torturing the captives, each school has its own emissaries to deal with it. We've only taken the first step. The Xisai School shouldn't..."

"What if the rest of the process happens somewhere we're unaware of?" Cesar asked her. "The people waiting in the dark capture that unlucky guy and take care of the emissary. The Xisai school will be completely unaware of what happened next, only knowing that someone was captured and the emissary disappeared. Then, the blame will be placed on us."

"This is ridiculous..."

"The Yestren School continues its unconcerned demeanor," a resounding voice suddenly echoed. Cesar looked in the direction of the voice and saw a figure in a dark red embroidered robe emerge from the darkness. The man was tall and appeared to be middle-aged. While his face wasn't aged, his dark hair was streaked with silver. He stood at the edge of the pit of flesh and blood, scanning everyone present with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Since you've brought your own entourage," the middle-aged man said, raising an arm, "will you forgive me for bringing some friends with me, Diana?"

"You seem to have brought too many friends, Mr. Sutik." Diana remained calm. "With your status, you shouldn't accept Olidan's employment."

There were indeed too many, Cesar scanned the shadows emerging from the edge of the pit.

Two tall, muscular men stood on either side of the mage, their eyes bloodshot, their bodies covered in runes. In their hands, they held an extremely heavy sword and shield. The sword was taller than the man, and the shield looked like a metal door panel. It was obvious that they were no longer of human size or strength.

On the other side of the pit stood two Holmonks. One of them had appeared at the fortress meeting in Gonzales. They looked like twins, likely slag forged from the same monk. The two Holmonks followed a monk—Cesar believed it was a monk because he wore a white mask with the Eye of the Forge carved on his face.

At the edge of the deep pit facing Brother Sagaros, there were three figures, some real and some fake. Some of them held crossbows engraved with sigils, some held long scimitars, and some were covered with sharp daggers. Cesar felt that they were invisible assassins of the empire.

There are so many forces involved in this conspiracy...

Chapter 200 Don't Answer

"I'm not hired, Diana," Sutiq said.

"Look at these invisible assassins who have dedicated themselves to the Temple and say again that you will not be hired, okay, Sutik? You might as well tell me directly, was it the Prime Minister who hired you, or General Clifas?" Diana's tone was gentle, but her words were extremely sharp.

"It seems you've interfered quite deeply in secular wars," the mage of the Hisai School said indifferently. "I hear you and the Third Princess are on speaking terms. So tell me, Diana, would you prefer to hand her over to the Chancellor, allowing her to put aside her political ambitions and live out her days as a court noble? Or would you prefer to hand her over to General Clefas, allowing her to march alongside the general's legitimate son, leaving behind a legacy of a husband and wife governing the empire together?"

"Altinia doesn't have to fight for anyone," Diana shot back, "she fights for herself."

"That's true. People are all for themselves. So, while I'm standing here, you should also think clearly about your own ending."

"A mage from the Xisai school was hired for money and fought in the war, yet you blame me for killing him?"

Sutik shook his head. "Don't overestimate your words, Diana, and don't overestimate yourself. Now that I'm here, words are worthless. From now on, we'll have plenty of time in the prison to discuss whether your words are more effective or the pain inflicted by the curse is more effective. Your youthful and beautiful skin is sought after by many mortals, but compared to true knowledge and your offense, all of this is insignificant. When we peel it off and burn it to ashes, restoring you to your most primitive and naked human form, you will know the price."

"It seems your employers give you a lot of power, Sutik," Diana said nonchalantly. "Otherwise, they wouldn't be watching you belt out poetry like an opera singer."

The mage of the Xisai School frowned, his expression becoming stern. "You've been contradicting me since you were little, and now you're becoming even more adept at offending your teachers, Diana. Watching the Yesterlen School abandon everything you have in Itris, how does that make you feel, huh? How many fellow travelers are left with whom you can discuss true knowledge? How many old friends in the Chamber of Commerce and mages still take you seriously? Are they the elders of the school who want to treat you like livestock to raise the next generation? Is this man next to you the bull they found for you?"

Diana remained silent, her lips tightly pursed. It seemed that what Sutik had mentioned had truly struck a nerve. First, the Yesterlen School had abandoned the Origin Society and chosen the Kingdom of Olidan. Many of the alliances and relationships she had forged had vanished in an instant, becoming meaningless. Second, of course, was the fate of everyone in her lineage.

Sutik waved his arm again, and everyone's eyes turned to Cesar. "This... kind young man," he sighed deeply. "Could you return the unfortunate victim, Miss Rhine, to her family? If you agree, I can ensure that your death is spared. After all, you have already seriously offended the dignity of General Clifas, and even the dignity of the Empire, in many ways."

Cesar was slightly taken aback, "I..."

"Don't answer! There's—"

Cesar heard Phils's cry, but it was too late. He suddenly lost his footing and fell into an abyss. He felt that the outline of the entire world was extending downwards with his fall, becoming infinitely long and infinitely far away.

He was still falling when everyone disappeared from his sight.