Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Treatment
One day, in the morning.
In Jima’s bedroom, at the desk.
The morning sunlight falls on the windowsill.
“…At the auction, the Elven Queen is adorned with a golden copper crown, tied up, legs spread apart, exposed to the eyes of the crowd like a commodity, feeling utterly ashamed, her stunning face flushed with anger…”
With a dispirited expression, Jima mutters to herself at the desk. It seems that with every word she types, an invisible syringe withdraws a portion of her energy.
“No way, what kind of nonsense auction is there in the Knight’s Country of Bartor? If there were, wouldn’t that group of knight lords just kill her as a sacrifice? Forget it, it’s all just smut, why care about so much reason? Focus more on the details of the costumes and accents to enhance realism. I’m already beautifying the Elven Queen’s face, why bother with so much else?”
As she spoke, Jima slumped on the desktop, feeling lethargic.
“So difficult. Next up, if the Green-skinned Warriors come charging in, writing will truly be annoying.”
Jima continued to talk to herself, her cheek pressed against the cold surface of the desk.
Last night, she had obtained the manuscript prepared by Mr. Dongdong in her dreams; he was very efficient, finding a proofreader to correct various malapropisms and typos.
This morning she had practiced dancing, thought about the plot in her spare time, noted down inspirations, and then returned to write.
She looked at the word count eagerly—40,000 words already.
Seeing this number, Jima felt even more dejected.
“Only 40,000 words? Ugh, I really don’t want to write.” Jima completely slumped over the desk, “Maybe I should just skip it.”
Just imagining the happy life of a dove made Jima feel as if she had flown to heaven. She couldn’t help uttering the most melodious sound in the world: “Coo, coo, coo, coo.”
“Knock, knock, knock.” The simple courtyard door was knocked on, “Jima, it’s George.”
Jima weakly replied, “Come~ in~.”
George carefully pushed open the shaky courtyard door and walked over. The desk was by the window, which faced the courtyard door.
Jima slightly lifted her head and saw George draped in a brand new silver armor, thicker than what he wore when he went to Shalin City. The enamel sun on the chest plate seemed to be radiating light under the sunlight.
Jima raised a finger to lightly cover her eyes and said, “Ah, my dog eyes, they’ve gone blind.”
“Jima, what’s wrong?” George walked to the windowsill and asked with concern.
There were three towering piles of books on the desk. Jima’s small stature appeared so delicate and fragile among the three stacks of books.
“Reading should be done in moderation, don’t exhaust yourself.”
This is much harder than reading; I haven’t read a single page, just been typing.
“Oh.” Jima said, “I want to die, feeling like life is so painful.”
With that, she exaggeratedly covered her face and whimpered a few times. If at that moment, a broad-minded, gentle, and noble saintess came over to hug her and give her some affection, that would be perfect.
George comforted her, “I have a way to make you happy and help you find joy in life.”
Jima curiously asked, “What is it?”
George replied sternly, “Let me start checking your reading notes and reading progress right now.”
“Ah?” Jima jumped up, “You’re such a cruel man.”
“Studying requires positive feedback to continue; otherwise, it’s punishment.” George said, “So, checking now will give you a sense of achievement.”
I haven’t read a single page.
“Please, no.” Jima said, “I suddenly feel that life is filled with beauty everywhere, as long as I open my eyes and have a pair of eyes that can discover beauty. Ah, how wonderful life is, this sunshine, how bright. This knight, how handsome. This helmet, what a charming design…”
“Enough, this is such a bitter lie.” George said, “The saintess is ready for the ceremony, and it’s only her; you don’t have to worry, she is skilled in healing both body and spirit, and your chest pain will surely be cured.”
Jima perked up and asked, “So, the healing process is just me and her?”
“And me.” George said, “If anything happens, at least I can shout.”
“Why does this ceremony feel so dangerous?”
“All magic and all extraordinary abilities carry risks.” George said, “I promise to minimize the danger; being tormented by chest pain all day isn’t good either.”
Jima smiled and said, “Are you really concerned about me?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
Actually, I dare say that your presence surely contributes to my chest pain.
Jima briefly freshened up and put on a dress before heading out with George.
George led her up the mountain. There were many houses, some with white walls and glass domes, and a circular arena.
Prayers, sounds of strikes, and the clashing of weapons echoed from all directions. Under some order, people walked their own paths without congestion.
Ignoring the gazes of strangers, after nearly twenty minutes, the two arrived in front of a smaller temple. George pushed open the thick wooden door with one hand, and they entered the solemn temple.
Sunlight penetrated through the colorful glass dome, illuminating the interior of the temple. Jima noticed there wasn’t a single shadow in the entire temple; she looked back and found her own shadow had vanished.
“Is this a shadowless lamp?”
With caution, Jima gazed at the statue of the deity in the temple—this was not a person but a symbol representing the God of Dawn, shaped like a trapezoid to symbolize mountains, with a rising sun on top. The God of Dawn had long issued a decree abolishing idol worship.
Towards the gods, Jima had once held an atheist’s disdain until she had faced a few setbacks. There was no other choice; although the deities cannot directly interfere with the world, they are still too powerful. And in front of her was a benevolent deity, and the temple could be considered the god’s domain.
Noticing that Jima had not moved, George turned back and said, “Jima, don’t worry, the God of Dawn is not one of those capricious evil gods. You have escaped evil, and He will surely appreciate you.”
The problem is, I am just pretending; if I attract the attention of the God of Dawn, wouldn’t I be turned to light by the sunlight?
“I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”
Jima felt reassured and followed George.
She thought: the God of Dawn is busy with many matters and is not omniscient and omnipotent, so there’s no need to worry so much.
In front of the statue was a clear pool of water, with ripples dancing atop and bright patterns swaying at the bottom.
Saintess Jenna was half-kneeling in front of the pool, dressed in a splendid silver robe, with her golden hair cascading down to her waist, extraordinarily eye-catching in the sunlight, exuding a pureness that drew people to her.
Jima almost felt solemn; she walked to Jenna’s side and noticed she wore white elbow-length gloves with a fingerless design, secured by a golden ring at the base of her middle finger. Jima also noted that the silver robe she wore was brand new, fitting better than before, with her chest contour more pronounced.
However, it was not as tight as Jima had imagined; rather, it was quite appropriate.
Saintess Jenna brought her ten fingers together, resting them on her chin, and quietly prayed:
“…May You show compassion to the heretics, to the demons pursuing the light.”
Jima secretly prayed, dear saint, you, who are busy with many matters, we little succubi won’t trouble you.
“You’ve arrived.” Saintess Jenna stood up, radiating confidence, and smiled at Jima with a motherly warmth, “I have a premonition that this ceremony will go very well.”
At that moment, even the unspeakable dirty thoughts in the depths of Jima’s heart vanished without a trace.
Damn it, is this what it means to have home field advantage?
Jima asked, “Where will the ceremony take place?”
Saintess Jenna pointed to the pool and said, “Here.”
Jima glanced at the shallow pool, entertained a frivolous thought, and reached for the hem of her dress to take it off, mumbling, “Good thing I’m only wearing underwear.”
George quickly tapped her shoulder and said, “No need to take off your clothes; there’s magic that can dry wet clothes.”
“That’s really convenient.”
Jima walked to the edge of the pool, slipped her legs encased in black stockings out of her leather boots, and tiptoed to touch the water, which was warmer than she expected. She asked, “How do I lie down?”
Saintess Jenna offered detailed and professional advice, “Lie face up, with your head toward the statue, arms spread out, legs together, in a cross shape. Remove all items that involve the supernatural from your body.”
Jima took off the silver ring on her arm and handed it to George. She lay down; the water was shallow, just to her ears, soaking her clothes, with the stockings clinging to her skin, her arms spread out on the surface of the pool.
Jenna’s gentle voice came from above, “Very standard; you can close your eyes now.”
As she spoke, she pointed at Jima, and a beam of white light fell to the bottom of the pool. Bright white patterns appeared beneath Jima, and white candles flew in from nowhere, circling around her, landing beside her to form a circle, and all lit up.
Incense nearby started giving off wisps of blue smoke on its own.
Amidst it all, Jima could smell the scents of herbs like St. John’s wort and bellflower, all very effective materials.
Jima calmed down, her tense muscles gradually relaxed, though she remained on guard due to a stubborn habit formed from years of toil in the demon realm.
Saintess Jenna adjusted her skirt, kneeling above Jima’s face, her clearly defined contours presenting a sense of delightful pressure on Jima. Jenna opened a silver metal flask, pouring some luminous holy oil into her hands, rubbing them together, and after both hands were coated with the holy oil, her fingers pressed onto Jima’s head.
Jima slightly closed her eyes. The slightly cool fingers pressed firmly against her cheeks, moving upward to press on her head, especially her temples, rubbing with more strength than Jima had imagined.
A wave of tingling comfort caused Jima to involuntarily close her eyes in pleasure.
She felt the holy oil seep through her skin, but it didn’t harm her as an evil creature; instead, it felt gently warm.
Jenna’s fingers lightly traced symbols on her face, neck, and collarbone. Jima felt as if warm sunlight was landing on her body; it wasn’t hot but very warm, making her feel cozy all over.
She really liked this feeling of being cared for, the stubborn wariness in her heart was stripped away.
“It’s beginning.”
She heard a low voice and felt Jenna’s hand pressing on her chest, warmth flowing through her.
Deep in her chest, it felt both itchy and painful. She imagined the tenacious old wounds on her heart were healing, the distorted scars becoming normal.
Jima became increasingly dazed, and amidst the confusion, she seemed to hear a woman’s voice say:
“She has a wound on her soul, very complex; I’ll try to treat it.”
Before long, a sharp pain surged through Jima; she wanted to struggle, but a nightmare’s claw dragged her into an endless abyss.
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Just two updates left.
