Chapter 23 Understanding the Human Heart
Eve Frostleaf pushed open the tent and casually found someone to ask, “George?”
The holy soldiers looked nervously at the beautiful elf, as not everyone could immediately understand her brief words.
Eve Frostleaf walked away directly; the soldier glanced at her back a few times before following.
Eve Frostleaf searched around and saw George, who was eating vegetables under the blazing sun. Jima was standing in front of him, cradling a cat and staring at him intently.
George asked Jima, “Why are you staring at me?”
“You look so happy eating, like a pig with food,” Jima said. “It’s making me feel hungry.”
George scooped a spoonful of hand-torn cabbage stir-fry and offered it to her, “Want to take a bite?”
“Nope.”
Despite being more than ten meters away, Eve Frostleaf heard them clearly. She stopped and noticed that in the sunlight, their shadows almost seemed to merge together, creating an inexplicable sense of connection. Just as she turned to leave, Jima caught sight of her beautiful figure, immediately turned around, and directly waved her hand, saying, “Sister Frostleaf, did you come for something?”
Eve Frostleaf initially intended to say nothing was wrong, but couldn’t help but raise her long legs and walked a few steps to George and Jima.
George swallowed his food and, with one hand holding the lunch box, asked, “What’s up?”
“I went hunting for beastmen in the forest,” Eve Frostleaf said, “while your underground lover was somewhere cooking for you.”
“Is there a new enemy situation?”
“I casually hunted three rabbits; they’re not tasty, I want to confiscate them,” Eve Frostleaf said. “I also heard the soldiers complaining about the food and your favoritism toward the succubus.”
After saying this, she specifically glanced at Jima, who was smiling and sizing herself up, and said, “That certain demon clearly doesn’t realize that the real problem you face isn’t whether dinner is sumptuous.”
There was a strong sense of superiority.
George said, “If they’re only questioning my character, I have nothing to fear.”
Jima interjected, “Then I’ll be the one suffering. The soldiers won’t demand much from a good commander working alongside them, but they’ll vent all their frustration on me and the horned child.”
“I will always uphold justice.”
“Then they will slack off, and my situation won’t improve much either,” Jima said. “I have a way; as long as you don’t expose it—”
“No.”
“Hey, at least wait until I finish.”
“It probably won’t be anything good.”
“It’s too isolated here, far from the city, with beastmen causing trouble on the road, which is bad for trade, especially for livestock,” Jima said. “Now there’s a great opportunity to exchange livestock that will soon become worthless for shiny gold coins, yet the villagers foolishly choose to give it up…”
“I have a feeling you’ve come up with some twisted reasoning again.”
“Just listen to me.” Jima organized her thoughts and said, “So I used my abilities a bit to create a win-win, no, a triple win opportunity. The villagers get money, I and the horned child will no longer be discriminated against, and the soldiers will have their bellies filled; what do you think?”
George silently stared at Jima’s face, paused for a few seconds, and Jima revealed an innocent smile.
“Will anyone be hurt or killed?”
“If accidentally cutting my hand while slaughtering lambs counts as injured, then yes,” Jima said. “Don’t worry, I’m not that stupid; I know how to keep things in check when I’m in front of you.”
“I understand,” George said. “What’s the specific plan?”
“It’s simple. I’ll cast a curse to make people sick, with symptoms similar to a plague, and then I’ll arrange a dream to say that they have offended the gods. If they want to remove the illness, they must come to apologize to us and offer livestock as a sacrifice. After the sacrifice, I’ll lift the curse, and the villagers will definitely be grateful to us.”
George shook his head, “No, cursing can harm someone’s health.”
“At this point, you’re still speaking up for the villagers.”
“No means no.”
“Alright.” Jima shrugged, saying, “As long as you’re happy.”
At that moment, Eve Frostleaf’s ears twitched slightly, and she said, “I heard a soft weeping sound, and… the sound of stones striking flesh; it seems to be your horned child.”
Jima, unfazed by the situation, said, “Maybe the soldiers are currently stoning the horned child to death.”
George immediately reached for the massive sword leaning against a wall and asked, “Eve, which direction?”
Eve Frostleaf raised her hand and pointed. George instantly dashed out, swift as the wind. Jima followed, turning her head while running to talk to Eve Frostleaf:
“I really don’t know, he…”
Eve Frostleaf ignored Jima and with her long silver legs swiftly overtook her, catching up with George and walking shoulder to shoulder with him.
Running fast is wonderful; long legs are great, whether on the ground or in bed.
Jima quickened her pace but still lagged behind. She asked a soldier for directions and managed to keep up.
Not far from the military camp under a tree, the horned child had his head resting on a rock, one of his horns brutally smashed off, blood staining the rock a deep red. Blood was flowing from the stump, and his head was covered in blood, almost dying the entire rock red.
He sobbed, “I’m not a beastman.”
After that, he grabbed a stone and slammed it onto his remaining horn.
George reached out, grabbing his wrist and asking, “What are you doing, you fool?”
Startled, the horned child stood up, exclaiming, “Lord George, I… I… I don’t want to burden everyone anymore. I’m not a beastman; if I just break my horn, like Sister Jima, I won’t be the one causing everyone to be expelled from the village.”
“I know you’re not; it’s their fault,” George said. “Stand still; let me heal your wound.”
Saying this, he extended his right hand, which shimmered with warm white light.
The horned child nervously lowered his head, “Can I wait until I break my other horn, Lord George?”
George wanted to advise him that such actions were unnecessary, but he thought about how he couldn’t let him face discrimination either, saying, “The horn will grow back; if you smash it, you’ll bleed, and the wound will smell and pose life risks.”
“I… Lord George, I don’t want to live like this anymore,” the horned child said, “If you have compassion, lend me a knife.”
He held tightly to the large stone, letting blood flow down his face from his hair.
Jima, with her dark horns, interrupted, “It’s useless; even if you’re skilled and cut off your horns, who in the army wouldn’t know you’re a beastman?”
As she spoke, Jima touched her own slightly bent dark horn, “Whether you have horns or not makes no difference for you.”
“I… I…” The horned child lowered his head, “I understand now.”
George touched the wound on his head, where the blood at the horn stump stopped flowing and healed. He said, “You don’t need to feel guilty.”
“If I had been more careful and not been discovered by the villagers… it wouldn’t have happened.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” George said, sighing slightly, “The villagers will soon trade with us; you should go back to the tent and rest well.”
“Yes.”
After the horned child left.
Jima said, “I thought you would emphasize right and wrong to him, telling him not to take it to heart.”
“I can’t even manage my subordinates properly; I lack confidence.”
“So…” Jima extended her hand, palm upward, “Gold coins for livestock.”
Immediately jumping to money, George was taken aback and said, “Wait a moment, let’s go back to the tent together; I’ll get some money for you.”
Eve Frostleaf suddenly said, “I’m leaving.”
After saying that, she turned around and walked away without looking back.
Watching Eve Frostleaf’s tall figure, George remarked, “She truly is a teammate who doesn’t beat around the bush.”
Most likely, she felt that the rabbits she hunted weren’t worth much, stirring up jealousy.
Jima walked toward George’s tent and said, “Well, I hope she continues being straightforward.”
Once inside the tent.
George said, “Jima, I suddenly realized that you’re a succubus; people must have discriminated against you quite a bit, but it seems you’ve never complained to me about being discriminated against.”
“Of course,” Jima said. “I’m so used to being discriminated against by you that the discrimination from others seems trivial.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m just joking; that’s just one of the minor reasons,” Jima said. “Other people’s lives and deaths have nothing to do with me; why should I care what others say about me? Let them say whatever they want; I won’t lose anything, and I have the ability to protect myself. Even if they try to burn me at the stake, I can escape.”
“Thank fate for letting me meet you,” George said while opening the treasure chest. “I initially thought that sticking to the right thing and eliminating prejudice would be easy. But that was just because you’re inherently optimistic.”
“Since you’ve praised me like this,” Jima said, “give me a hundred gold coins.”
George grabbed a handful of gold coins and handed them to Jima.
“Only thirteen gold coins and six silver coins? What happened to the emotional impact?”
“A pig only sells for four gold coins here.”
“You’re stingy.”
As Jima said this, she stuffed the gold coins into her pouch. “Forget it; who told me to be blind and lose myself to you? Sigh, the plight of women; I’ll go prepare. You arrange a few people to help me; as for roasting meat, I’m a master level.”
“Okay.”
“As a chef, if I’m putting in work and money, I should definitely get my share of the meat.” Jima said, “Just so we’re clear, I don’t want to share the meat with the soldiers who whip others. If they want to eat, they need to swallow their pride and ask their comrades; that might be better than whipping them. Otherwise, don’t whip them at all.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Then see you,” Jima said, pleased, as she walked out of the tent.
George suddenly called out to her, “Wait.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ll inquire about the villagers’ conditions. If your curse harms anyone, I won’t easily let you go.”
Jima deliberately shifted her gaze to his groin and said, “Good brother, I know I was wrong.”
George was momentarily stunned, realizing her implication, his face turning slightly red. Jima inhaled the faint fragrance of peach blossoms in the air and left with a smile.
After she exited the tent, she turned her head, revealing a mischievous smile.
Jima appeared exceptionally generous, both enchanting the villagers with her magic and personally roasting meat. This was not out of sympathy for the horned child but to elevate her own prestige within the army. This way, when she needed to utilize the lives of those mundane people, it would be much easier.
The smile on Jima’s face frightened a passing military priest, who clasped his hands together and quickly left, muttering, “May the God of Dawn protect us; monsters and demons, begone, begone.”
Jima took a strand of white hair from a bag at her waist, which she had casually “collected” from a grey-bearded old man upon entering the village. She then clasped her hands together and murmured, “This man suffers from a major ailment, a major ailment…”
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Additional chapter (1/3)
