Chapter 22 Chapter 21 Resolute Decision
Silver Pegasus reluctantly allowed George to ride, taking a short run before flapping its wings and flying into the sky. Jima flew to a tree and watched George on the Silver Pegasus grow increasingly distant.
Her once expressive face was now cold and lifeless, like that of a corpse, her eyes emotionlessly watching George leave.
It seemed he didn’t need to look back to see what was behind him. Well, she wasn’t going to waste time pretending over such trivial details.
He had just mentioned that he always knew she had secrets; what did that mean? Perhaps it was a subconscious worry about her, which meant he might have been speculating about her true identity all along.
In other words, he had never given up on the possibility that she could be the Demon King Jima.
Haha, well, of course. He wasn’t stupid; they had been together for two years, and he could sense anything out of the ordinary.
Jima rested her chin in her hands, feeling extremely frustrated.
Investing in George was indeed dangerous, but without him, she would be going on her own to retrieve the shards of the Demon King’s crown, which was almost a death sentence.
What if she was discovered? The shards of the Demon King’s crown resonated with her soul; if she happened to pick one up in front of him, he would see that she was the Demon King…
This thought just flashed through her mind when a chill pierced through her chest, followed by a stabbing pain.
It seemed her soul injuries had a part of George in them.
Jima took a deep breath, her breathing trembling.
He was indeed the kind who could mercilessly chop off his own mother; would he chop her up too?
The two conflicting thoughts of whether he would or wouldn’t fought in Jima’s head, both sides doing their best to refute the other with numerous examples, yet all were in vain. The more this went on, the more anxious Jima became.
She couldn’t help but think of the Master of Subversion’s ritual, where she was given a glass eye, said to allow one to see glimpses of the future. Why not use it to look at the future she wanted to see?
Forget it.
The Master of Subversion was the type that loved to manipulate others; this should be a tailor-made trap. Who said that what one saw through the glass eye must be real?
The glass eye in her palm reflected Jima’s face.
It was a trap.
After a while, Jima suddenly realized that she had instinctively taken out the glass eye. She had always kept this eye that could foresee the future within reach.
She wanted to put the glass eye away but couldn’t help picking it up again, much like someone always finding it hard to resist checking their phone while working.
The gray-white glass eye was full of temptation in her eyes. Just one look, and perhaps all the uncertainties of the future would dissipate, freeing her from anxiety.
“I’ll consider it a trap for now,” Jima muttered to herself. “So even if I see George, I’ll first seduce him, then kill him, and toss him into the pot for braised chicken rice, I still won’t believe it.”
She found another reason for herself. “If you don’t even understand your enemy, you’ll sooner or later get duped.”
Having said that, she decided to take a few glances. But she didn’t intend to press the glass eye against her forehead.
So she pinched the glass eye between her index finger and thumb, lifting it up and focusing her gaze on the gray-white glass orb. The glass eye looked like a globe capturing swirling gray mist inside, with the mist flowing and constantly changing, resembling an unfathomable future.
What will I see?
Jima focused her gaze.
Strangely, the ever-changing mist became vaguely transparent, and she saw two small figures embracing each other, struggling as if they were fighting.
Jima’s golden eyes widened, her breath caught.
This fragment of the future became clearer as the gray mist dispersed. She saw that it was surprisingly herself and Eve Frostleaf rolling in the fields!
How is that possible?
Jima gasped and continued to look closely.
It was a delightful sight—double the beauty, double the joy—though it seemed her own beauty surpassed that of Eve Frostleaf.
In just two seconds, that pleasing glimpse vanished.
Jima tucked her straight tail beneath her, huffing softly.
The Master of Subversion had a wicked idea, seizing upon her lustfulness and knowing that she was very displeased with Eve Frostleaf’s indifference towards her, crafting such a vulgar illusion.
Another fragment of the future flashed by.
Jima quickly widened her eyes and stretched her neck forward.
A voluptuous figure appeared in the gray mist, and upon closer inspection, oh, it was Jenna.
Jima’s tail perked up, biting her lip.
Jenna was dressed in a silver robe, even her dazzling golden hair was hidden beneath a hood, exuding grace and solemnity; yet, that did not conceal her well-developed and upright chest.
I quite like this style; dressed properly…
Jenna seemed to be strolling through the forest, moving quickly. Before long, she stopped, looked up, and gazed at a woman sitting on a branch. Her back was beautiful and elegant, and she had a tail—certainly hers.
Jima held her breath, her heart filled with anticipation.
But as the scene zoomed in, Jima realized that the version of herself in the glass eye was holding a glass eye.
Is this the future that is about to happen?
She quickly averted her gaze; when her eyes shifted away from the glass eye, she felt a wave of fatigue wash over her.
The evening sun shone down on her, casting a layer of crimson light on her arms and the glass eye in her hand.
Was it already evening? She must have looked for a long time.
Jima stuffed the glass eye back into her dimensional space bag, then pulled the bag’s opening tight, securing it, and rubbed her eyes.
Recalling what she had just seen, it was clear that future would happen very soon.
At that time, she could verify whether this glass eye had the ability to foresee the future.
No, this is a trap.
Some unknown entity might have seen Jenna rushing towards her, and then let the glass eye “foresee.”
Jima remained cautious as she sat on the branch, waiting and watching.
Suddenly, she moved, supporting herself on the branch to liberate her butt that had gone numb from sitting for so long.
After waiting for about half an hour, as the sunset approached the horizon, it appeared larger, resembling a cooked egg yolk.
A sound of rapid movement echoed from the forest, the sound of branches swinging, getting closer from afar.
Before long, Jenna, wearing clothes identical to those in the glass eye, arrived. She lifted her head and called out:
“Jima.”
This could only mean one thing: it had predicted correctly once.
Jima raised her hand and said, “Don’t say anything; let me guess, are you here to advise me?”
“Yes.”
The church, knowing it could locate the shards of the Demon King’s crown, must be quite uneasy; thus, they’d likely disagree with George being the leader, so to resolve the matter, it had to start with her.
“I was right,” Jima said. “But before my personal interests are guaranteed, I’d rather throw the wish compass into the sea than take a step back. Sorry, Jenna, I’m disappointing you.”
Jenna said, “I want you to persuade George. They’re arguing too loudly; the whole building is shaking with their fighting.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He said he wants to win recognition and won’t follow the church’s arrangements,” Jenna said. “But this isn’t a time for stubbornness. I’d like you to help persuade George with me.”
“Wait, didn’t he mention my demands?”
“Your demands? He didn’t bring it up,” Sister Jenna asked. “What are your demands?”
Jima felt a warmth in her heart and immediately understood what was happening.
That guy must have succumbed to his male chauvinism. He probably thought that voicing her demands would mean using her as a shield for his ideals.
A more astute man might have calmly said in front of an enraged bishop, “It’s not something I can help; after all, only the succubus knows the method of localization, and she certainly won’t think of the bigger picture. I’m helpless in this regard.”
It wouldn’t even need to be so deliberate; he could just say it outright. The church would strive to change its stance, whether through persuasion or threats.
“Tell the church to stop arguing,” Jima said. “I want the shards of the Demon King’s crown, and I only trust George. Just ask them if they are willing to send that new hero to help.”
“What? Jima, do you want to become the Demon King?”
“I must fulfill a wish; only it can be realized,” Jima said. “After that, they can do as they please with the shards of the Demon King’s crown.”
“Jima.” Jenna’s voice was somewhat sorrowful, “I know you’re very sad, but…”
“I am really very sad.”
“Could you please let go of my chest?”
“No way, only it can warm me in this world.” Jima got up from Jenna’s embrace, wiping her reddened eyes, and sighed, “My dream is gone. But my demands remain the same. I only trust George; I don’t trust anyone else.”
Jenna, feeling helpless, ceased to persuade her any further.
Jima also stopped hesitating.
No more benevolence! She had to backstab; when they finally got the shards of the Demon King’s crown, she would immediately sneak away with the loot, fix the disc first, then say something.
She could already envision how furious George would be at that moment.
Jima’s tail twitched, and then she thought of a way to resolve it. She gritted her teeth and decided to have a child with George. She would only be taking the group’s loot; he couldn’t possibly kill the mother of his child, could he?
