Chapter 96 Chapter 97 Choice
The green dragon, Cilyris, glanced at St. John, who was uncontrollably transforming into a monster beside her. Then she looked deeply at Jima and said:
“You have touched my plaything. He could have had a place in my lair, but you have ruined it.”
Jima was deeply impressed by Cilyris’s lair because there were very few valuable items inside. It consisted mainly of strange souvenirs, worthless trash like the broken divine emblem of a state religion priest and a crown missing one piece.
This left Jima greatly disappointed, and in a fit of anger, she burned everything down.
St. John completely lost his mind. It was as if a glowing eye had appeared in his protruding belly, emitting a blinding light. A glowing sphere materialized, expanding outward, aimed directly at the green dragon.
“Violence is really the most detestable thing,” the green dragon said, shaking her head right before being engulfed by the bright light. Suddenly, a surge of green light erupted, and within it, a dragon shadow with four limbs quickly grew larger.
George shouted at little John, “Little John, hurry back to your room!”
Fortunately, the child was clever enough; he cried as he closed the door and hid inside.
The hall of the castle was very tall. As the green light faded, an adult green dragon crouched down, her flesh crown touching the ceiling.
Beside her, the monster named St. John had the glowing eye in his belly “looking at” the green dragon, shooting a beam of scorching light. The light struck the smooth scales of the green dragon, roasting them to whiteness, and the entire hall became uncomfortably hot.
Cilyris glanced sideways at “St. John” and said, “Useless human.”
Her claws, as hard as steel, stomped down on “St. John,” pinning him tightly beneath her, and mockingly declared:
“Truly a waste, toyed with by a newly emerged succubus. You can’t even handle being a cannon fodder; how should I evaluate you as his student, George?”
“St. John” struggled beneath her claws, powerful light bursting forth from between them, the claws emitting green smoke.
George could no longer contain himself; he kicked off the ground and charged at Cilyris with his sword, shouting, “The murderer has no right to judge us!”
Cilyris waved a dragon claw, and freed “St. John” flew straight toward George. George stopped and struck at him with his sword, severing one of St. John’s legs. He fell to the ground, rolling about with the remaining three legs propping up his crooked body. His robe had already burned away, and when the glowing eye in his belly shifted to George, he felt a sharp pain in his leg, fell to the ground, and his face landed in his own pool of blood, his gray-black beard soaked with it, utterly wretched.
Cilyris sneered:
“He has a weak will and low intelligence. Sooner or later, he will betray. I just said a few words to him, and he believes he can become a vampire and achieve eternal life. I said I could arrange for his son to have a good place, and he devoted himself wholeheartedly to serving me. It’s so effortless; it brings me no sense of achievement. Is this what a so-called saint is?”
“St. John” rolled in the pool of blood, striving to get up, his aged face smeared with blood.
George stared at that once-familiar face, now stained with filth, evoking both pity and anger.
Once he was so noble, now he is so ugly. George could hardly endure it; the veins on his temples were throbbing.
He acted, thrusting his sword toward “St. John.”
The green dragon inhaled and unleashed a gray-green cone of dragon breath toward George and Jima.
Jima turned and bolted for the main door, rolling to the ground and hiding behind the wall.
Almost simultaneously, dragon breath surged across the threshold, melting it. Some droplets of dragon breath corroded the fabric on her arm, searing pain radiating deep into her bones.
As the dragon breath stopped, a strong chlorinated scent filled the air. Jima felt slightly dazed. She knew that the green dragon’s breath could cause confusion, similar to a sheep awaiting slaughter.
Could George really perish like this?
Jima quickly got up and peeked inside.
She saw George rising to his feet, his giant sword stained with blood. A lifeless body lay beside him; he had just executed “St. John” himself.
Although she couldn’t see George’s expression, Jima could feel the fury emanating from him. She activated her “Eyes of Desire” and noticed that his rage nearly filled his entire chest.
George, with his sword, pointed at the green dragon Cilyris, declaring, “You are guilty! I will bring you to justice!”
After saying that, he dashed towards the green dragon alone.
Cilyris thrust her hind legs, charging forward, her foreclaws sweeping toward George. He dodged to the side, striking her claw with his sword; the blade sliced through dragon scales, leaving a long wound. However, he himself was hit by a claw, flying off like a cannonball and crashing into a pillar, which cracked under the impact.
Cilyris continued her charge, crashing directly towards Jima.
Jima retreated, “Damn it! Targeted again!”
She could feel the green dragon’s mouth opening behind her, when a wave of warm chlorinated air rushed towards her head. Jima grabbed her waist, one hand tightly holding the puppet, the other reaching for a green flask.
Jima suddenly turned around and saw a terrifying scene: a dragon’s mouth large enough to swallow a ploughing ox was about to engulf her. The drool dripping from the dragon’s teeth was nearly splattering onto her face.
A white light appeared in front of Jima as George emerged from it, leaping into the dragon’s mouth. He stepped on the lower jaw and thrust his sword upward with force, piercing between the teeth, and blood gushed forth. Seizing the opportunity, Jima threw the green flask into the dragon’s mouth, where it shattered.
The green dragon Cilyris cried out in pain, tilting her head back as she continued to charge forward. Her body squeezed through the doorway, smashing the stone wall, bricks falling everywhere.
Jima hastily rolled again, a dragon claw landing near her, dust engulfing her, and a loud crash made her eardrums vibrate. Luckily, she wasn’t struck by the falling bricks.
Jima covered her mouth and nose, standing up from the dust to see the green dragon tossing its head, throwing George off. His helmet crashed to the ground while he flew nearly fifty meters, smashing through a wall of a room and landing inside it.
The soldiers on the city wall, desperately resisting the orc attack, were paralyzed with fear at the sight of the green dragon’s appearance. They dropped their weapons and fled in all directions, only wanting to hide. Some brave individuals drew their bows and shot arrows; the arrows fell uselessly onto the dragon’s body, just like they would have on the city wall.
Jima extended her five fingers toward the blue greedy cyclone of the green dragon and grasped tightly. Instantly, the greedy cyclone expanded to more than two people high.
Cilyris turned her head, rushing toward Jima like a cat that spotted a mouse.
Jima’s heart pounded fiercely, blood rushing through her arteries.
She started to think that she could counter-kill the green dragon; the plan to obtain the extraordinary material from Cilyris seemed ridiculous.
Although she had secretly advanced to gold rank and deceived almost everyone into thinking she was still a weak silver, it was far from sufficient to deal with a dragon. This was a peak green dragon; in her previous life, she had been three levels higher when facing her.
She tightly grasped the puppet, preparing to escape.
At that moment, George dashed out. His helmet had fallen off, short hair covered in dust, blood streaming from his forehead, he held his sword defensively in front of Cilyris.
The green dragon Cilyris roared, “What a load of dog poop! No matter how hard I shake, I can’t get rid of it.”
Jima shouted to George, “Quick, give me the teleportation scroll! She’s targeting me!”
Cilyris’s primary goal was to obtain Jima’s extraordinary material. If Jima escaped, this place would hold no value for her, and all her prior strategies would be for nothing.
While fighting Cilyris, George unconditionally trusted Jima. He sought an opening, drew out the faded yellow teleportation scroll, and tossed it to Jima.
Jima reached out her hand, running towards the scroll.
Cilyris, growing increasingly impatient, rushed after the teleportation scroll, her mouth opened to destroy it. George quickly grabbed her tail, yanked back with all his strength, his legs sinking into the ground. Cilyris raised her head, unleashing gray-green dragon breath into the air, washing over the castle, corroding bricks that kept falling like a small acid rain.
Jima ran in the acid rain, catching the teleportation scroll. Cilyris roared in anger, briefly shaking off the sticky George once more and sprinting towards Jima.
The ground trembled, Jima’s calves shook as well; no one could remain calm against a monster charging at them like a hill. If not for her past as a demon king—having once defeated Cilyris—she might have panicked and made many foolish mistakes.
Her mind was clear: as long as George held her back, she could create distance, giving her time to cast a spell and escape.
Jima took off running backward into the dilapidated castle.
Cilyris had barely covered fifty meters when the ‘George’ who was like chewing gum rushed out again, stabbing through her tail with his sword and holding on tight.
He had collected ample evidence against Cilyris, and relying on the “sanction” bonus, he firmly held her back.
As Jima’s silhouette began to fade into the castle, Cilyris’s dragon eyes turned red with urgency. Then she smiled, stopping her steps and looking at George. If a dragon smiles at you, it’s quite a strange scene.
George was no exception; he drew his giant sword, assuming a defensive stance, preparing for any cunning tricks from the sly green dragon.
Cilyris raised her two claws, making a festive gesture, while between them, a light of pale green formed a bust of Jeanne. With a smile, the green dragon asked:
“I give you a choice: save the succubus or save the saint.”
George instinctively sensed a threat, as though someone was holding a dagger to his back.
Cilyris suddenly crushed the bust of Saint Jeanne between her claws.
“Bang!”
The wooden door that trapped Saint Jeanne fell with smoke. She stepped through the fallen door, her green eyes filled with confusion, devoid of life. Whispers echoed in her ears: “You cannot let everyone down! You cannot let down…”
Jeanne murmured over and over, “So much blood, so much blood, cannot save, cannot save…”
George was startled; Jeanne’s mental state was already poor. He shouted, “Jeanne! Jeanne!”
Jeanne showed no response to George’s call.
The whisper continued, “Only death means no casualties.”
A gentle yet strange smile appeared on Jeanne’s face: “Hee hee, yes, yes, yes.”
A woman, her face covered in blood, approached Jeanne, pleading, “Lady Saint, please save me.”
The corners of Jeanne’s mouth split into an eerie grin, her eyes glowing white. She floated up, smiling at the woman: “Hee hee hee, as long as you’re dead, there will be no blood, no pain.”
With that, she cradled a glowing orb in her palm, making the woman scream and flee.
Saint Jeanne had gone berserk!
At that moment, she had to be knocked unconscious; otherwise, if she regained even a little sanity and realized she had killed innocent people, she would immediately fall into madness, following in St. John’s footsteps.
George was about to run but froze as if struck by lightning.
He was at a loss; if he ran, wouldn’t he be sending Jima right into the dragon’s mouth?
Cilyris raised the corners of her dragon mouth, asking, “Who do you choose? You only have three breaths’ time.”
With that, Cilyris darted toward the castle, forcing him to make a choice. If he hesitated for even a moment longer, both women would die.
No matter whom George chose, a distorted seed would be sown in his heart.
Cilyris felt genuine delight; twisting a hero was even better than twisting a saint.
