Chapter 7: Hanging
The horse’s back was wet.
The culprit was still Jima.
During the break after close combat.
This person suddenly remembered a gameplay from the single-player game “The Witcher 3,” where the main character and the female lead had a scene involving a unicorn. So, he requested to change the battlefield to the back of a silver pegasus.
Speaking of the experience, it was indeed refreshing. But it felt like a duo gymnastics routine; Jima was naturally lazy, and it was George who ended up tired, along with the silver pegasus.
After it was over.
Jima, following George’s instructions, picked up a copper whistle, blew into it, and the silver pegasus took off without a word, flying away quickly.
Jima turned back to see George had already set up the tent. She lifted her head to look at the evening glow on the horizon, brushing a wet strand of black hair behind her ear.
That guy is really on point with his timing.
Jima sighed inwardly; George had seen this dense paladin more than once. I didn’t teach him how to flirt, yet he’s already self-taught.
In Jima’s view, when George sent the silver pegasus and asked, “Would you like to ride?” it was equivalent to saying, “Do you want to be with me?”
If she agreed, then the two of them would ride the silver pegasus, leading to intimate contact. Besides, the silver pegasus was flying in the air; the first ride would surely make them nervous, and mistakes could happen, allowing George to teach her hands-on.
Moreover, receiving such an expensive gift meant she should show her appreciation.
Following this line of thought.
In Jima’s eyes, George working so hard to set up the tent had the same meaning as inviting her to spend the night outdoors, a man and a woman sleeping together…
George was just punching the iron stakes into the ground.
“You’re really amazing, George.” Jima walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “I mean in terms of flirting.”
“Ah?”
Jima pointed at the evening glow: “Your timing is quite good; we can only spend the night here.”
“I didn’t seize this opportunity.”
“Naturally being able to use such excellent flirting techniques; truly a genius.”
“Jima, I don’t like you describing it as flirting.” George said. “It sounds like something a street thug would use.”
“Then change ‘flirting’ to ‘romantic.’ Don’t get me wrong, I won’t look down on you. No matter how you think about it, as long as it’s romantic and makes me happy, that’s all that matters.” Jima said, smiling. “So, tell me, how should I repay you?”
George said, “Don’t maliciously speculate about me; I love you, Jima.”
“I love you too.” Jima said. “But I’m not being malicious; I’m too lazy to explain. Your request doesn’t count as repayment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Of course, I’ll repay you in my way.” Jima thought of the main event for tonight; her recently exhausted body was suddenly filled with excitement. She licked her lips and said, “Tonight, the four of us will be together; I’ve already talked to them about it. We will perform a play, and the content will be quite explosive, so don’t be too surprised, thinking something bad has happened.”
“Something bad?” George’s thoughts went off-track. “Dismemberment and bleeding?”
“What are you thinking?”
“I thought of some reports against the Cult of Pleasure.” George said. “The pollution is severe; I read one report and had to wait three days before reading it again. After finishing three reports, I voluntarily extended the interval from three days to seven.”
“It’s not that serious; I don’t believe in the Cult of Pleasure.”
“You don’t believe in the God of Blood, but your weapon is blessed by the God of Blood.” George said. “You must tell me what’s going to happen?”
“How can I say that?” Jima said. “And besides, will there still be surprises if I say it?”
“Then how will I understand the boundary between normal and abnormal?” George asked. “If the God of Pleasure is causing trouble, how will I notice something’s wrong?”
“Um…let’s put it this way. There won’t be dismemberment or bleeding; at most, there’ll be some whipping, seeing some red, hands and feet restrained.” Jima thought for a moment, worried that George would interrupt while tormenting the busty saint or the long-legged beauty. She continued, “Pleading for mercy or crying, that sort of thing, is very normal.”
George was taken aback: “Is this punishment?”
“It’s a form of play.” Jima explained: “You know how to make a cake; what do you add to make it sweeter?”
“More and better sugar?”
“Salt.” Jima said. “Some mild pain is just to make the pleasure feel even better. I said all that just to say I don’t like your conservative mindset interrupting the play. You know Eve Frostleaf’s temperament; I’m not wrong, am I?”
“If she begs for mercy, showing signs of pain, that’s part of her pleasure. Isn’t there a saying in White City, that after drinking bitter medicine, the sugar tastes even sweeter?”
George corrected her: “I remember it as, after eating sugar, the bitter medicine tastes even more bitter.”
“Come on, why be so serious? As long as the meaning gets across, it’s fine.”
George didn’t understand, but after Jima insisted several times, he still agreed.
“Alright, when the time comes, just have fun and set aside those serious and boring concepts in your mind.”
Jima placed her hands on her hips, her tail wagging back and forth.
Seeing George nod, Jima was even happier.
Hee hee hee, just wait for me to see how I whip your fiancées in front of you. You’ve already shot a lot of ammunition; when I coax those three to join in, using up your ammo, won’t they be at my mercy afterward?
A sly smile appeared on Jima’s face, like a scheming fox.
Minotaurs and the like, truly wonderful.
An hour later.
George was greatly shocked.
The play was halfway through.
Suddenly, Jima was seized by Eve Frostleaf and Jenna. Jima struggled fiercely, but the two girls pressed her down with all their strength, tying her up and hanging her up. It was completely identical to battlefield combat.
Jima was suspended in the air, her flat stomach facing the ground. She frantically shouted at George:
“Help! George! This isn’t playing! Get them to let me down—boo hoo hoo.”
Eve Frostleaf stuffed a red berry she had just sucked on into Jima’s mouth and secured it.
She stood next to the thrashing Jima, her silver hair torn from the battle, revealing black, insulting words on her thighs, showcasing Eve Frostleaf’s identity as a victim.
She gently said, “Evil begets evil.”
Jenna said, “Frostleaf already told me. Although she knows you tricked her, she pretended not to notice, wanting to see if you would repent. Jima, you’ve really gone too far!”
“Boo hoo hoo!” Clearly, she was the victim, enjoying it. What do you mean by wanting to see if I’ll repent? You just want the moral high ground to do whatever you please to me!
After the verdict, the two girls said in unison, “One retribution deserves another!”
With that, they tightened their weapons and attacked the helpless Demon Lord.
George almost clapped; he hadn’t expected that the play, which he originally thought was meaningless except for pleasure, could actually reverse its course and express a good value; this was truly educational and entertaining.
“Boo hoo hoo.” George, help! I’m going to die.
George walked over, acting as the executioner punishing the evil demon lord.
Jima’s tail first wagged in panic, sweat dripped from the tip of her tail, then it perked up, lifting straight, finally drooping down and resting on the ground, soft and limp, occasionally twitching on the ground.
The next morning.
In the spacious bedroom, cold wind blew through the gap in the wall.
Under the silk blanket, three pairs of feet lay together, from left to right, silver hair, black hair, white hair, and a tail.
Jima slept in the middle, lying on her side, groggily drifting into dreamland. She dreamt that she had become the demon lord again, with a long line of heroes, holy maidens, and elves stretching far to the horizon in front of the demon lord’s palace.
In a fright, Jima started running in her dream, her calves twitching as she took a few steps.
Suddenly, the blanket covering her ears was lifted, exposing her shoulders. Jima hazily opened her eyes; it seemed to be George, yes, it was him. Under her command yesterday, everyone had pushed him off the bed, forcing him to sleep on the carpet.
A large hand reached out, grabbing her horn.
Jima woke up a bit more, seeing Jenna still asleep, and next to her, Eve Frostleaf also drowsily opened her eyes.
She shook her head, softly saying, “Jenna is asleep.”
The blanket was covered back up, and just as Jima intended to doze off again, she suddenly felt someone grip her ankle, dragging her outward.
…
…
Several days later, at night.
In the basement of Sigma Cathedral, a distant female voice called out, “Dear husband, come out, quickly come out.”
Armored Akarnis was sitting cross-legged, facing the wall like an ascetic monk, hands clasped together, quietly praying:
“Most benevolent and great friend, charming to both men and women, the most beautiful succubus in the world. May Great Friend hear my prayer; come, rescue me from the clutches of the evil female corpse.”
After days of anger and curses, Akarnis had completely depleted his fury and only hoped Jima would rescue him. If this continued, he would go mad.
Madness wasn’t scary; the scary part was going crazy and walking out of Sigma Cathedral, throwing himself into a trap.
Thinking of this, Akarnis felt a tingling on his scalp, praying even more fervently.
Only after Akarnis fell asleep did his prayers come to fruition, as he dreamt of Jima with wide wings.
She sat sideways on a branch, holding an axe and a spear, wearing a short skirt and rusty dark stockings, and her first words were, “Akarnis, she can’t be swayed.”
“Swayed?”
“Oh, I mean her sexual orientation, it’s too normal.” Jima said. “She only likes men.”
“Whether she likes women or not doesn’t matter.” Akarnis said. “As long as she likes you! You are the exception.”
“Very difficult.” Jima said. “She’s too powerful.”
“When did you start to help me?”
Having only put in effort for two days, Jima lied: “A week ago.”
“Only a week?” Akarnis said. “I’ve been with her for at least two years!”
“Two years? I’m only two years old, are you crazy?”
“Time drags like a year; I’m about to go mad from her.” Akarnis’ eyes turned red, looking like he was about to cry. “She can even create clones and sneak into my room to defile me.”
Jima’s arm muscles tightened, suppressing the impulse to chop Akarnis with an axe.
“Let me update you on the progress.” Jima said. “On the first day, I went to find her and introduced myself. I even said I had good intentions; when that scoundrel Akarnis wanted to nail you, I was there to dissuade him. After all, I had good intentions.”
“And what do you think your wife did? She clawed at me immediately, convinced I was going to steal you from her, which was terrifying. She even insisted it had to be me who stole you.”
Akarnis clapped his hands: “Isn’t that perfect? From hate comes love.”
“The professional wallbreaker couldn’t do that.” Jima said. “In the end, I had to bring George over.”
“Just let it be.” Akarnis said. “After all, she can’t die.”
“What if she could die?”
Akarnis jumped up, “Is there such a good deal? Tell me, do you have confidence in defeating that monster, Velin?”
“No fighting.” Jima said. “We communicated and finally cleared my name as the mistress.”
“Huh?”
“George told me that with Velin’s strength, he would probably need the holy sword to pull us all together to have a chance of killing her, advising me to communicate well and not always think about fighting.”
Akarnis was heartbroken: “Is this still the saint warrior who must slay evil?”
“In order to bond with her further,” Jima said. “I need you to write a note. Right now, I’m approaching her under the guise of a ‘love consultant’ and need to gain her trust.”
“What should I write?”
“Dear Velin, you’ve been persistently pursuing me, but I cannot accept you; our ways of life are different. I hope Jima, this love expert, can teach us what love is.”
“You won’t sell me out, will you?”
“If you really fall in love with her.” Jima said. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Alright.” Akarnis said. “Being trapped here is killing me.”
The potion recipe had found its way.
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