Chapter 220 Chapter 218 Dragon Slayer Points
Eve Frostleaf stepped out of the Dream Palace, her footsteps gradually lightening from a walk to a brisk pace and then to a run as she dashed into the forest, stopping beneath a tree laden with red fruits.
Turning around again, after running a hundred and twenty steps, she eagerly grasped her silver bow and pulled a straight arrow from her quiver at her waist, setting her sights on the swaying leaves a hundred and twenty steps away in the gentle breeze.
She felt inexplicably nervous, nocking the arrow onto the bowstring and drawing it back fully.
Her breath quickened as Eve Frostleaf’s green eyes focused intently on the trembling leaves.
Deep down, she had already imagined the arrow piercing through the leaves, but she hesitated to release it. Ever since being cursed, every time she felt certain she could hit a target, what flew from her bow was the bow itself, not the arrow.
Eve Frostleaf tightened her grip on the bow, gently let go, and what entered her sharp line of sight was no longer a rotating bow but an arrow swaying left and right like a swimming snake.
She clearly saw the arrow trace an arc through the air, passing through the dense branches, accurately striking the swaying leaves and hitting a red fruit, which dropped to the ground.
The leaves slowly descended, and the not-so-sharp arrowhead accurately severed the fruit’s stem.
Eve Frostleaf watched the leaves drift to the ground, a weight lifted off her chest, and a smile appeared on her face as she joyfully jumped up, a tear of happiness rolling down from the corner of her eye.
She wiped her tears and restored her indifferent expression.
She was no longer a child; there was no need to feel joy for passing the “one hundred twenty steps test.”
The one hundred twenty steps test involved using a regular bow and arrow to shoot at a swaying leaf from one hundred and twenty steps away.
This test was primarily designed to assess whether the archer possessed extraordinary power. Because without such power, it would be nearly impossible to hit such a small target at such a distant range; even the most skilled archer could not knock down the leaves, as human strength was ultimately limited.
Eve Frostleaf walked slowly into the forest, reaching the arrow that had fallen to the ground and pulling out the red fruit.
She stroked the arrowhead; it was neither sharp nor pointed because a sharp arrowhead, when piercing through metal armor, would curl and hinder penetration.
Running her fingers along the straight arrow shaft, she couldn’t help but draw the bow and shot two arrows towards a nearby large tree. The arrows curiously circled around the tree trunk, and a crack sounded from behind it. She stepped around the tree to see two broken arrows, which had collided in mid-air.
Eve Frostleaf felt a pang of regret; the arrows were specially made to match her silver bow, ensuring they had the proper disturbance to avoid affecting shooting accuracy.
But she couldn’t help herself, continuously drawing arrows from her quiver. The arrows darted through the forest like agile birds, displaying various colors.
Eve Frostleaf was having more fun, feeling as if she was back to the first time she harnessed extraordinary power, the night when the birds in the forest faced disaster.
The sound of the bowstring echoed continuously, and sweat trickled down her fair neck, dampening her silver hair.
Eventually, she stopped, panting, and glanced up at the silver moon in the sky. Only then did she remember that this was the Dream Palace, the territory of Jima.
Eve Frostleaf, undaunted by the trouble, recalled all the arrows, one of which had pierced the red fruit. She reached out to pinch the fruit; it felt soft and elastic, unlike a typical red fruit.
She measured the size of the fruit with her fingers against her mouth, glancing suspiciously at the vine on the tree. She tugged at the vine, and it fell down, three meters long, covered in segmented nodes. With a powerful swing, the resilient vine made a sharp whistling sound.
Eve Frostleaf grabbed both sides with her hands, pulling with all her might, and managed to break the vine.
It was quite resilient and felt rough on the surface.
Suddenly, she had a thought, her face turning slightly red. She sheathed the bow and rushed out of the strange forest, then paused. With her emerald-green eyes looking left and right, confirming that the succubus wasn’t watching, she felt relieved and slowly walked back to the Dream Palace.
For some reason, she quietly approached Jima’s bedroom on the third floor.
The bedroom had double doors wide enough for a horse-drawn carriage to pass through, with a sign displaying the words “Jima’s Private Bedroom,” bordered in gold.
The succubus’s taste was truly a typical display of affluent aesthetics, similar to that of the demon lord.
While Eve Frostleaf disdainfully judged Jima’s taste, she used wind elements to transform into soft cushions that landed on the floor. Her white boots barely made a sound, akin to feathers falling, as she stepped forward to the bedroom door.
A few sounds of heavy breathing from combat reached her keen ears through the thick wooden door.
Then she vaguely heard Jima’s voice:
“…beast…”
“…don’t…”
“I surrender… treat captives well…”
Followed by a piercing scream: “No!”
Along with that, a series of fighting sounds erupted, filled with primal violence.
Eve Frostleaf imagined the chaotic scene inside, visualizing Jima being battered in a fight with George, losing her armor and being hit while suspended.
Her ears grew warm with excitement as her innate curiosity made her unconsciously press her ear against the wooden door.
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through, and the door swung open.
Eve Frostleaf reacted extremely quickly, pushing off with her legs and leaping back ten steps before landing steadily.
However, her “air cushion” didn’t have time to form, and the heavy golden metal heel of her boots thudded loudly against the wooden floor, echoing down the corridor.
Eve Frostleaf was startled. She hadn’t noticed that the usual carpets covering the wooden floor had mysteriously vanished.
From the wide-open bedroom, Jima’s triumphant voice rang out:
“Frostleaf, come in and fight the boss with me!”
It was a trap!
Eve Frostleaf’s face flushed red, covering her face as she turned and fled. The wind whipped against her face, bending her long ears.
By the time she stopped, she had run nearly two kilometers away, and her long ears were so red they seemed ready to bleed.
She moved her pale pink lips and muttered two words: “Despicable.”
Once she finished speaking, she turned to look back at the entrance of the Dream Palace, silent and unchased. She sighed with relief but also felt a twinge of disappointment.
Thinking of how she had been ensnared in the succubus’s trap, she wished she could dig a hole in the ground right now and bury her head in it.
One could only say that the succubus was indeed a succubus, showing no shame in setting such a trap.
She recalled the strange red fruits and vines in the woods, the thoughts of Jima’s grand work “The Chronicles of the Fallen Elf Queen” solidifying her belief that Jima was a true succubus, and a cunning one at that.
Eve Frostleaf took a deep breath, uttered a powerful word, and ice water poured down from the sky, landing on her flushed face and melting the ice within the water.
As the heat from her face and ears subsided, she regained her icy demeanor.
At that moment, she noticed she seemed to be holding something in her hands. A firm squeeze revealed it was quite elastic.
Looking down, she saw a black vine and a red fruit in her hand.
Eve Frostleaf’s ears turned bright red to the roots; she hurriedly tossed the vine and fruit aside as if they were snakes.
….
….
The next day.
The joy of victory lingered until nightfall, then disappeared without a trace.
Once again, it was a battle—neither simple nor excessively difficult. The difficulty lay in that they had to quickly deal with opponents whose quality and quantity were similar to their own.
The simplicity lay in the fact that the opposing beast horn officer foolishly emerged, brandishing a human corpse in a taunting manner. Just after shouting a few words, two arrows almost simultaneously pierced through his eyeballs.
An unpretentious slaughter of an officer.
George led the troops in a mindless charge.
Following closely, Balsa and her small army helplessly abandoned their original encirclement plan and could only take the opportunity to attack some mortal units to weaken this army of over eight hundred men.
The casualties increased by more than fifty.
By nightfall, no matter how belligerent the knights were, they did not wish to encounter another skirmish.
It wasn’t due to excessive casualties; no matter how many losses they sustained, how could it compare to the day when Duke Casson led his troops and was almost surrounded?
Most knights remained silent on this matter, clearly having heard the cries of many human captives before they were devoured that night, yet none of them dared mention it.
The main issue was the opening of the “Knight Privilege Store.”
“Three hundred gold coins? Why don’t you go rob someone?”
A knight, who believed that treating money as dirt was a virtue, shouted. He wore a dog-faced helmet, hence Jima dubbed him the Dog-Faced Knight.
“Robbing is too much trouble,” Jima said lazily. “These ‘noble knight armor maintenance tools’ were brought from over a thousand kilometers away, consuming magic power, with dangers along the way that you can’t even imagine.”
“But these are just some leather, mineral oil, and sandpaper!”
“And a hammer, made for extraordinary users, with free rights to use a drum-shaped anvil, wish you luck in flattening your plate armor.”
“For three hundred gold coins, I could buy a new breastplate, one with carvings.”
Jima waved her hand: “Then go buy it. I strongly support you, and I recommend Gothic breastplates; they are more resistant to blows.”
The Dog-Faced Knight gritted his teeth. There were only Jima’s shop here, with a line of people waiting behind.
Jima pointed at the rust on his armor and said, “As a noble knight, how can you let your armor become so dirty?”
The Dog-Faced Knight pulled a long face and said, “It’s too expensive, lower the price.”
“Noble knights must use noble tools; this is a ‘Knight Brand’,” Jima held up the hammer, which had the words “Knight Brand” etched into it by acid, along with a knight’s kettle helmet.
This was done at the suggestion of Xiya, spending a little money to have the craftsman create it, as the craftsman charged a high price of one gold coin per day.
The Dog-Faced Knight wavered. Although everyone knew it was a waste of money, having a brand appeared to make it feel less so.
However, he couldn’t afford it and shook his head, saying, “You are deceiving people.”
Just as he was about to raise his chin and leave in a dignified manner, Jima calmly stated: “Three hundred gold coins is merely a listed price. You can use valiant war trophies, like beast horns, heads, or a fine weapon with both commemorative significance and magic, etc.”
“Exchange for money?”
Jima frowned and replied:
“Money? How vulgar! It’s valiant points; only the most valiant can enjoy better and scarcer resources.”
After saying this, she pulled down a cloth that listed the exchange prices for various war trophies.
“Trophies can be exchanged for points; you can also call them…,” Jima’s expression became serious, “Dragon Slayer Points, abbreviated as DKP.”
“Dragon Slayer Points?”
The knights felt the name sounded grand.
Jima explained, “I chose this name because I hope everyone will aspire to be valiant dragon-slaying heroes.”
The knights stood in solemn respect.
“Dragon Slayer Points can be exchanged for gold coins at a 1:1 ratio,” Jima continued, “only valiant knights are qualified to use these resources to get rid of the rust from their armor, making themselves look even better; don’t you think so?”
The Dog-Faced Knight nodded: “Makes sense.”
The knights eagerly exchanged for “Dragon Slayer Points” and then traded for various inexpensive imported goods.
As the Dog-Faced Knight’s feverish head cooled, he asked, “What’s the difference between these Dragon Slayer Points and gold coins?”
Several knights who heard him speak glared at him in dissatisfaction, prompting the Dog-Faced Knight to quickly silence himself.
