Chapter 218: The Two Hundred Sixteenth Chapter: Lifting the Curse
No one stipulated that the goddess’s blessing must be a semi-transparent protective shield.
In fact, even the golden dawn falling upon someone does not signify a goddess’s blessing.
The holy-glowing shield around George was merely a special effect created by Jima using her “power of lies.”
But according to what Eve Frostleaf had written, George needed this effect so that everyone could intuitively see that he possessed the goddess’s blessing.
It turned out Eve Frostleaf was right; the entire power transfer process went smoothly, just as she had anticipated.
She wrote in her plan:
“Power comes from subordinates; the knights merely want to survive and earn some honor. As long as the knights believe in you, you are the leader. Everything else is just candy-coated on the surface.”
In terms of making people believe in him, George had a significant advantage.
After George took command of the entire army.
According to Eve Frostleaf’s plan, after dinner, George led all the knights in the army and suddenly turned around to night-ambush a beastman army that Jima had previously scouted.
This sudden advancing army was caught off guard by the ambush, and the battle lasted less than ten minutes before they collapsed, the screams of the beastmen echoing through the dark forest.
Morale soared; after all, no one dislikes a breeze-of-battle where they fight for ten minutes and chase for an hour.
Indeed, George was not only good at combat but also a genius at leading an army.
The knights were quite excited; they believed that under George’s wise command, they had defeated several times their number of enemies.
The beastmen scattered throughout the forest, at least three to four thousand of them.
George listened to the knights’ conversations, anxiously pulling down his helmet. He knew that this beastman army numbered less than a thousand, and apart from a dozen large horned beasts, there weren’t many tough opponents.
It was decided by Eve Frostleaf and Jima to select a beastman army that was large in number but overall weaker and easy to ambush, as a sacrifice to consolidate George’s power.
The ambush plan was proposed and managed by Jima, and then relayed by George to the other knights.
George was merely acting as a flag.
That night.
In the Dream Palace.
In the bathroom, the bathtub was as large as half a swimming pool.
The water was steaming, the mist obscuring the figures of the two women.
Jima sat behind Eve Frostleaf.
The white steam rose along Frostleaf’s snow-white back, condensing into large droplets on her back.
Her waist and back resembled a snow sculpture crafted by a master. The lines tapering at her waist and her nearly flawless skin were incredibly beautiful.
She is truly white, even whiter than I am.
Jima widened her eyes, leaning in to observe closely, noticing only a few shallow scars.
Unable to resist, she reached out her fingertip to touch the droplets hanging on her back, the coolness spreading through her fingertip. When her fingertip touched the icy skin, it made a shallow dent, causing the droplets on her back to shudder slightly.
From the front came Eve Frostleaf’s dissatisfied voice: “Are you done?”
Do you really dislike being touched by people you don’t like?
Jima retracted her finger: “It’s only been ten minutes.”
Eve Frostleaf’s long ears twitched, and the droplets hanging above fell to the ground: “If you can’t do it, just say so.”
“If the Demon King’s curse could be that easily resolved, the mages of the White Tower would have solved it long ago; it wouldn’t come down to me. This is just the inspection stage.”
“Even though I am a succubus, I have promised George to help you recover properly.”
“If you can regain your ranged attack ability, it will be better for all of us.”
“I will absolutely not be tempted by your body to delay the main task or do anything foolish.”
Eve Frostleaf’s cold voice came: “Hurry up.”
“Why be so shy, like a hedgehog?” Jima muttered. “If you don’t believe me, you can call George in right now to check.”
Eve Frostleaf remained silent, sitting up straight, her legs together, hands on the hilt of her silver sword. It was as if she viewed Jima as a notorious rogue to guard against.
The idea of stripping off clothes to steam was proposed by Jima as the “inspection plan.”
Partly true, as this was indeed part of the inspection plan. Partly false, as Jima didn’t actually need an inspection since she was as familiar with curse structures as the Demon King Jima.
After passionately declaring her beliefs, Jima glanced at Eve Frostleaf’s hairless armpit, catching a glimpse of some side profiles resembling snow peaks.
Probably just a bit larger than mine.
As seconds and minutes passed, Jima gazed and stared, admiring the Creator’s outstanding work, occasionally mumbling incantations that were half for show and half made up.
On Eve Frostleaf’s snow-white back, a pattern gradually emerged as if painted with black oil, as if just extending a finger could smear away the black oil.
What a filthy curse.
Jima squinted her eyes, loathing the pattern that polluted the ice sculpture-like back, akin to a stone-carving enthusiast observing a hideous graffiti on Michaelangelo’s David in a museum.
The pattern was particularly vulgar, depicting a raised middle finger, drawn so vividly that it seemed as though the middle finger might jump out of the image and stab someone in the eye.
“Alright, alright, Lady Frostleaf, the inspection results are out; the curse structure is quite interesting.” Jima snapped her fingers, and a large mirror and a small mirror appeared out of thin air, the small mirror landing in Eve Frostleaf’s hands, while the large mirror stood behind her.
“You can take a look yourself.”
Jima’s voice came from behind the large mirror.
Eve Frostleaf took the small mirror and looked: “I have seen it twenty-seven times.”
“It seems the magic of the high elves is as strong as the rumors say.” Jima said as she waved her hand to dismiss the mirrors, looking at the ugly, arrogant pattern on her back, frowning: “Good news and bad news, which do you want to hear first?”
“Good?”
Looking at the ice-sculpture-like waist and back, Jima felt a conflicting impulse to possess her.
Changing the curse to anything would be fine. Even if I couldn’t control her, I wanted to create an opportunity to possess this body once.
Jima suppressed the impulse. If she tricked her into thinking she was using a low-harm curse in replacement, Eve Frostleaf would definitely verify its authenticity with George, and Jima wouldn’t be able to replace the curse without being able to deceive Eve Frostleaf.
Even if Eve Frostleaf’s strength dropped a few levels, it would still be impossible.
Jima said, “I think I can break it.”
“Bad?”
“It will hurt. What’s worse…” Jima said, “It will also look very ugly.”
“Scars?”
“I don’t know, but for a transcendent like you, it probably won’t.”
“Do it immediately.”
In Eve Frostleaf’s voice, Jima sensed a hint of urgency.
“Three requests, do you remember?”
“Quick.”
Jima brought over a small wooden bucket, which seemed to contain a mix of various paints, red turning into a red goldfish leaping out of the water, falling back into the water and changing into green.
“You should know the next steps.” Jima said: “Relax your mind and accept my power.”
After saying this, Jima’s fingertips touched the “paint” inside the wooden bucket, the paint flowing into her nails, and in an instant the bucket was empty.
Jima’s ten fingers gently pressed on Eve Frostleaf’s shoulders, but they encountered tightly coiled muscles like stone.
“Your muscles are too tense.” Jima said: “I can even see your strong biceps; it’s as if I’m a rapist.”
Eve Frostleaf asked: “Are all the things you write things you have seen?”
Oh.. I forgot; in this other world, people are prejudiced against authors of erotic literature and consider them more disgusting than panty stealers or peepers.
Jima finally understood why, when Eve Frostleaf realized her sexual orientation included women, she was so defensive.
In her eyes, her image was probably not better than a chubby guy wearing underpants with a face full of acne.
“No.”
Tension in the muscles began to relax.
“Half of it is from experience.”
The muscles instantly tensed again, goosebumps emerged on her back, her pointed ears shaking in fear.
Jima couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“Are you lying to me?”
“Of course, I was scaring you.” Jima said: “I’m not even two years old. Most of the scenes in the books come from the inherited memories.”
Eve Frostleaf took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and relaxed.
Her waist and back relaxed, and Jima could hear her long exhale.
Jima continued lifting the curse, her ten fingers wandering on Eve Frostleaf’s back, leaving faint colors on the skin, only to be swallowed by black ink.
She was very focused, forgetting about the Creator’s masterpiece, forgetting the other party’s gender and beauty. In her eyes, Eve Frostleaf’s back was a white chessboard, where a messy maze was drawn. She needed to maneuver her ten fingers continuously through the maze while there were pursuers behind.
Every step consumed magical power and energy.
The first attempt failed.
Frustrated, Jima switched buckets and continued “navigating the maze.”
Finally, after twenty minutes.
A sharp pain startled Eve Frostleaf awake.
Several black bone spikes protruded from her back, still emitting black smoke.
“You’re almost there; hold on.” Jima picked up a pair of iron pliers and stood up.
The pliers were large and needed both hands to grasp; she tightly clamped down on the spikes that were only half a centimeter long, chanting a spell while pulling, pulling again.
The bone spikes had taken root in Eve Frostleaf’s flesh; as they were pulled out, her flesh also stretched. The spikes gradually emerged, revealing the reddened fleshy tips.
Jima could hear Eve Frostleaf gritting her teeth.
After five minutes of pulling, a three-inch-long bone spike was finally fully extracted, the end of it adorned with black and white bone roots, with several red threads of flesh hanging from it.
A stream of crimson blood flowed down her back.
“Can you hold on?” Jima asked: “If you can’t, there’s no choice; we must pull them all out in one go.”
Eve Frostleaf nodded slightly.
The second, third, fourth, and fifth spikes were pulled out without her making a sound.
When the fifth spike was extracted, the five wounds on her back immediately healed. Jima splashed a basin of clear water, easily washing off the black ink middle finger drawing on Eve Frostleaf’s back.
Eve Frostleaf felt light all over and asked: “Is it done?”
A weak voice came from behind: “Mm.”
Eve Frostleaf restrained the joy in her heart, picked up the half-wet bathrobe nearby, draped it on, and tied it up.
Turning around, she saw Jima slumped on the ground.
