Chapter 165 Chapter 166 Irritable
After retrieving his helmet and weapons, George strode out decisively.
Eve Frostleaf didn’t know how to comfort George, finally saying, “I can’t call my parents ‘mom and dad’ either, not even privately.”
“Who is your mother?”
Eve Frostleaf immediately replied, “She’s dead.”
George couldn’t help but frown; this was a lie.
“I assumed she was dead.”
As George mounted his celestial warhorse, the two rode out of the castle, with George saying, “Before arriving at the Earl of Virginia’s castle, I had the ridiculous fantasy that I would be welcomed here, and I could ask about who my mother was.”
Eve Frostleaf looked at George’s face and softly said, “She should be a stunningly beautiful woman, very gentle.”
George gazed at the clouds drifting in the distance and said, “I also imagined what my mom looked like, but even though I have a great reputation, she has never sought me out. She might be dead, or she may have forgotten me.”
Eve Frostleaf said, “She must be alive; perhaps the woman you brush past in the street is your mother, or she has moved to the White City, proudly watching you in the crowd when you return victorious.”
“No.” George shook his head, saying, “If she were alive, she should have come to find me. No mother would reject a son like me. Unless she hated me the moment I was born.”
“No mother in the world would hate her own son.”
As soon as Eve Frostleaf’s words fell, a wailing sound came from nearby.
“Mom! Mom! It’s me, I’m your son, please tell them I’m not a beastman!”
The two turned to see a thin child with horns on his head shouting desperately at a farmer woman in the crowd.
The army seemed to be returning in triumph, leading some beastman prisoners and many hybrids, parading them through the streets.
The horned child was among them. But he was neither beastman nor fully human; he was considered a “hybrid.” His face was bruised and swollen, and a heavy wooden yoke was around his thin neck.
The farmer woman, however, dodged away from him and pushed deeper into the crowd.
The horned child panicked and ran desperately towards her, calling out, “Mom, it’s me, Mom!”
A soldier kicked him hard; he fell into the mud, his hands bound by the yoke, but he still struggled towards the woman, crying out, “Mom! Mom!”
The farmer woman, flustered, waved her hands at the others, saying, “I don’t know him, I don’t know him.”
George heard the lie and frowned.
The soldier picked up a club and struck the horned child’s head hard, then grabbed his horn, raising him up, and shouted, “Be honest, or I’ll give you a beating before hanging you.”
A trickle of blood flowed down the horned child’s filthy hair; his face was covered in tears, choking as he watched the farmer woman’s figure disappear into the crowd.
George rode his celestial warhorse closer and asked, “Soldier, what crime has he committed?”
The soldier quickly released him and looked down, saying, “My lord, we found him in an abandoned village; he must be the beastman spy lurking there.”
“No, I’m not, I… I… I’m clearly local.” The horned child stuttered through tears, “No one told me to leave; when I woke up, the whole village was gone.”
“He’s lying; he’s a spy for the beastmen.”
“I’m human too; I don’t want to die. Please, noble knight.”
George could discern the lies, saying, “Let him go; he hasn’t lied.”
The soldier was stunned.
“I will keep an eye on him,” George said, “exactly what I need—an errand boy.”
“Fine.” The soldier told the horned child, “You’ve struck it lucky today.”
At that moment, a haughty voice chimed in.
The leading knight, mounted on a black horse, approached; he lifted his visor, and his face bore some resemblance to George’s, saying, “Draw your sword and behead this hybrid.”
The soldier stood frozen, while the leader’s squire drew his sword, about to slash down at the horned child.
A azure magic arrow shot through the air, cutting his sword in half; the half sword fell into the mud. Eve Frostleaf, who had mysteriously dismounted, stood in the mud, drawing her silver bow and aiming at the squire.
Suddenly, dozens of swords unsheathed.
Eve Frostleaf calmly stated, “I can shoot five arrows at your armored bodies in one second.”
“As the unquestionable heir to this land, the law allows me to execute a beastman spy.” George’s nominal brother, clad in iron-gray full plate armor, pointed at George, saying, “As a holy warrior of the temple, do you intend to violate local law?”
“He’s not a spy; I can identify lies.”
“What if he colludes with the beastmen in the future?”
“I’ll bear the responsibility for my own justice.” George said, “He will stay by my side, and I will keep an eye on him.”
“Oh really? How righteous and justified.” He looked deeply at George, deliberately saying, “The little hybrid should have been beheaded long ago. Send my command—execute—”
Before he could finish, George’s steel gauntlet slammed into his face.
George jumped off his horse, saying, “You insulted my honor; I challenge you to a duel!”
For a knight, publicly refusing an honorable duel was a humiliating matter.
George’s brother was furious and jumped off his horse too, drawing his knight’s sword, saying, “Fine, I accept your duel, you beastly—”
Before he could finish, George shouted in rage, like a phantom, struck him in the chin with the hilt of his sword. The brother tilted back, his golden-stitched helmet flying into the air, landing on the ground.
This strike released all of George’s fury, leaving a deep dent in the helmet that hit the ground. George’s brother collapsed, unable to stand up for a moment, spitting out a mouthful of blood, a tooth among it.
George ignored him and slashed off the yoke from the horned child’s neck with his sword, lifting him onto the saddle, saying, “Come with me.”
No one stopped him; the soldiers watched as a man and a woman rode away, taking the horned child with them.
George glanced at Eve Frostleaf’s ankle, where her originally shining, pure white silks were stained with dirty mud. This was the first time he had seen Frostleaf’s silks soiled by mud.
“Thank you for standing up for me,” George said, “and I’m sorry; I didn’t expect my hometown to be so unwelcoming, staining your clothes.”
Eve Frostleaf looked down at the visible mud on her feet, saying, “You’re right; I dressed inappropriately.”
At the castle gate, temple soldiers were lining up. Someone had informed them that the lord intended to expel them.
The sergeant major rode up to George.
George said, “Let the soldiers set up camp outside; rest well tonight; this castle does not welcome us.”
“Yes, commander.”
George and Eve Frostleaf rode side by side at the front of the line. The setting sun fell between them, stretching their shadows long; the distance between their shadows seemed to shrink until they merged into one.
Suddenly George said, “Frostleaf, I’m so tired.”
Eve Frostleaf tilted her head against the wind, her silver hair blown by it, and said, “Rest a while; you’re not alone.”
…
…
“Ouch.”
George’s brother grabbed the cold, wet towel from the countess’s hands and pressed it against the corner of his mouth.
“You deserve it,” the countess said, “How could you be so stupid, foolishly confronting that hybrid? What if one day he goes all out and breaks your neck?”
“He provoked me,” George’s brother said through gritted teeth, “I was leading the way in the street, guiding that group of deformed beastmen to the execution ground. He came to pick a fight, wanting to save a beastman; do hybrids sympathize? How can I avoid it? Everyone saw me as a coward; how could I face anyone?”
“I told you, why did you have to stupidly go into the forest and fight those beastmen on hooves?” the countess said, “I heard there’s a one-eyed giant in the beastmen, as tall as a windmill, who can throw stones as big as grinding wheels. What if that stone hits you? I don’t know what I would do.”
“The goddess will protect the knight who charges the fastest.”
“You selfish brat.” The countess grabbed his ear and said, “If you die, what will I do? Wouldn’t I be kicked out of my own house by those beastly hybrids? Can you bear to see your mother live in the wilderness?”
“Ouch, ouch, let go of me.”
“Promise me, don’t go into the forest again.” The countess wouldn’t release her grip, “The beastmen will retreat sooner or later; your father originally wanted him to lead troops to their death, but he’s clever; he absolutely refused. Can’t you learn a bit from him?”
George’s brother grew angrier, swatting her hand away and saying, “Almost, I was about to achieve credit for exterminating the beastmen only for him to snatch it away. I will prove that even though I can’t fight him, I surpass him in valor and devotion to the goddess.”
…
…
Morning.
Someone nudged Jima’s face.
“Jima, get up, it’s morning; I need to do morning prayers.”
Saint Jenna pushed three times, saying it three times.
Only then did Jima contentedly move her leg off Saint Jenna, which had been awkwardly pressed against her, the sound of the stockings rubbing against the silk making a rustling noise.
Saint Jenna, still groggy, sat up in bed, her golden hair messy, cascading onto her bulging white bodice, adding a touch of sensuality. Jima’s nightgown twitched, unable to resist lifting a bit at the back.
Jenna complained, “Jima, you pressed on my chest again last night.”
“Sorry, Sister Jenna.” Jima turned her face toward the morning light pouring in through the window, “I can’t forget how gentle you were with me when you treated me, perhaps because I never experienced being gently held in my mother’s arms since I was little.”
As she spoke, a faint sadness swept across her pure and adorable face, and there seemed to be a glimmer of tears in her eyes.
Seeing this, Jenna’s heart softened, and after giving Jima a hug, she got out of bed.
Once Jenna turned her back, Jima revealed a mischievous smile, wiping the joyful tears from her face.
The lusty woman was truly delighted.
Thinking of that unfortunate jerk struggling in the countryside, battling mosquitoes every night, seeing only ugly beastmen during the day, with not a woman in sight for miles, while his fiancée was being taken by someone else far away, made her feel quite sorry for him.
How pitiful.
Jima felt so good she wanted to sing a song, but thinking about it, she seemed to only know the national anthem, so she gave up.
That said, when I was still the demon king, I wanted to take the saint and the long-legged elf into my harem; now that’s half accomplished.
It’s a pity that the tall cold elf is far in the High Precision Island; there’s no chance for me to act. If I could take both, enjoying the blessings of multiple partners every night, how wonderful would that be?
Jima shook her head with a silly grin, shaking off the beautiful fantasies of sharing.
Tonight, she still had to play the role of the dark devil, to see that poor, womanless, cuckolded, lonely George, and understand his current situation.
I wonder how he’s doing.
I also need to take care of that hand daring to reach for someone else’s fiancée.
I’m really too busy.
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Additional Update Progress 6/10
