Chapter 59 Chapter 58 Troubles
When the child Dagji woke up, he found himself in a warm blanket, and for a moment, he thought he was home. The wooden walls had not been breached, his father had not died on the frontline, and his mother was not dead in their hall.
But when he awakened and saw the tent being whipped by the cold wind, the nightmarish memories surged into his mind.
His mother, eaten alive, her soft cries, escaping in darkness, the roar of the troll waiting at the door, and the beautiful demon with an axe that had a long tongue; the troll before her was gentler than fish, which would still wriggle when placed on the butcher’s block, but the troll actually extended its neck and obediently allowed her to kill it.
He remembered that his soul belonged to her, belonged to that queen of the demon realm, the queen of a vast kingdom, who could stop time and could wipe out an army of a hundred thousand with a single spell.
Thinking of this, Dagji jumped out of the warm quilt.
“Brother.” His sister’s voice came from the blanket.
“Wake up.” Dagji pulled her out, dragging her from the warm quilt, and noticed she was much cleaner, her face washed clean, revealing her chubby little face, and she was also wearing new clothes.
“The demon queen is not here.” His sister tried to curl back into the blanket.
Compared to his sister, Dagji realized he smelled terrible and was quite sour, the white quilt was stained gray by him.
“Did you take a bath last night?”
“The demon queen thinks I’m dirty.” His sister reluctantly got out of the quilt. “By the way, you need to bathe too. She said if she comes back and finds you still full of fleas, she will stuff your soul into maggots and feed you to the troll.”
Dagji hurried to find a place to bathe.
The tent was located near his hometown in the woods. Stepping out of the tent onto a small slope covered by a thin layer of snow, he gazed at his hometown about three kilometers away, built next to a freshwater lake, with the lake resembling the inner corner of an eye.
Seeing the collapsed wooden gate and the wandering trolls in the village, Dagji’s last shred of hope was shattered.
He turned around, looked left and right for a place to bathe. A river, frozen over with thin ice, flowed out from the Noska Mountains, passing by the tent, ultimately joining the lake.
He asked, “Sister, where can I bathe?”
His sister pointed to the frozen river: “There, there’s an axe on the shore to break the ice.”
Dagji’s teeth chattered; fuel was precious in winter, and it was impossible to take a hot bath. If he were to bathe, it would have to be in icy water, which they rarely did in winter.
He felt like retreating, but upon seeing his sister’s clean appearance, he thought to himself, if she could take a cold bath, how could he, as the older brother, fall behind? Besides, she had been injured yesterday.
“Sister.” Dagji squatted down, grabbing her pant leg, and asked, “Is your injury healed?”
Rolling up her pant leg revealed her snowy white calf, with no scars in sight.
At that moment, a gust of cold wind blew.
“Cold!” His sister pulled back her feet and covered herself with the new cotton pants. “Hurry and bathe, or Lady Jima will feed you to the trolls. By the way, remember to bring soap.”
Dagji immediately scampered to the riverbank, warmed up, chopped at the thin ice with the axe, stripped down by the banks while shivering, took the soap, and jumped into the cold water for a thorough wash.
The water wasn’t as cold as the air, but it was still freezing enough to leave Dagji gasping. His skin turned red, and he originally thought he would wash for four or five minutes before coming ashore.
But his sister, holding a wooden rod, pushed him back from the riverbank, saying, “Brother, you haven’t washed clean yet!”
“Wash quickly, or you’ll become a maggot.”
Dagji washed for nearly twenty minutes before being allowed to get out. The coldest moment was when he got out, but luckily, there was a towel.
Not long after he put on his clothes, the sound of wings fluttering came from the sky. Jima folded her wings and flew over the branches. Her wings brushed against the branches, causing the accumulated snow to fall along with her, landing on her smooth, silky black hair and on the ground.
She was truly beautiful.
Dagji stared straight at Jima.
Jima looked at him seriously, and both children lowered their heads.
“There’s something I wanted to tell you yesterday, but you passed out, and only your sister knows,” Jima said, “I’ll repeat it now. If you don’t want me to stuff you into maggots and have you grow up amongst a thousand and eight suffering maggots and then feed you to the trolls, then listen well and absolutely do not defy my will.”
The two quickly agreed.
After saying that, Jima raised her branch axe and pointed it at the two of them: “Kneel down.”
The two children immediately knelt down, and Jima placed the branch axe on Dagji’s head, where he could feel the coldness of the axe blade.
Jima threatened, “If you dare to have a single bad thought, the tongue in the axe will extend out, drill into your ears, consume your brain, and push out your eyeballs. After that, I will use your skull as a bowl.”
Dagji was terrified and didn’t know what to say; he just kept nodding.
Jima, who had nearly frightened Dagji to tears, said, “One word of what I told you yesterday cannot be disclosed to others. This concerns me being the king of kings, returning to the demon realm in the blink of an eye, and wiping out an army of a hundred thousand. Understand?”
Dagji nodded.
“Answer me.”
“Un…understood.”
“Very good, let me tell you why. In case you may get cocky.” Jima stated, “When I said they are my servants, I meant they are being completely deceived by me. They are all heroes in their own right; the women are beautiful, and the men are violent. They are the righteous side but have no idea that I have buried a vicious curse in their hearts.
“They believe I am a good person, foolishly used by me to bleed and fight for my grand plan. Although I can assure you that if you share my words with them, they would just laugh, thinking I’m boasting.
“However, my grand plan cannot afford an ounce of failure. If you leak even a single word, be prepared to join the thousand and eight idiots who will end up stuffed into maggots along with you, and be fed to the trolls.”
Dagji nodded vigorously, nearly causing his head to topple off his neck.
“Alright, now go eat breakfast.” Jima, satisfied, retracted her axe, eliminating the potential for any embarrassing moments right from the start.
What Dagji didn’t expect was that what was being cooked over the fire was actually milk.
Jima brought half a basket of white bread and half a basket of hand-pulled beef.
He tore off a piece of white bread and skimmed off the thin film on the milk, swallowing both the softened bread and milk together, the creamy taste filling his mouth.
Then, he wrapped a piece of hand-pulled beef in the white bread, dipping the whole thing into the warm milk, the cold white bread softened, then he couldn’t wait to bite down hard.
Warm milk flowed out from the bread, and his teeth sank into the chewy hand-pulled beef, but with just a bit more effort, the beef broke apart, and the flavors of the beef and milk mingled on his tongue.
Swallowing it down, the warm food flowed down his throat, melting even his icy limbs with its warmth.
Finally, he managed to eat meat, and such delicious meat at that, he quickly devoured several more pieces of bread filled with beef, wolfing it down like a starved ghost.
As he reached for another piece of beef jerky,
his sister suddenly slapped his hand.
Caught up in the enjoyment of the food, Dagji suddenly came to his senses.
Throughout his life, people around him had taught him that the tastiest, most meaty food always belonged to the strongest and highest-ranking individuals, even if it meant a female warrior with eight breasts.
He quickly said, “I’m full.”
“Is that all you ate?” Jima glanced over and said, “Eat as much as you want; after all, you won’t be eating the meat when you meet me; it’s all yours.”
He grew excited and asked, “Really?”
“Don’t save any for later,” Jima replied. “If you insist on saving that meat, then for every piece you save, I’ll give you ten times less next time.”
The siblings hurriedly finished all the meat and white bread in the basket, their bellies swollen.
How wonderful; someone had taken care of the leftover snacks from last night.
Jima stretched, saying:
“Come, once you’re full, walk with me to meet those three fools I have been playing with. Of course, when you see how they bow and scrape before me, don’t be surprised; everything is part of my scheme, understood?”
The two nodded.
Jima got up and walked away.
“Lady Jima.” Dagji pointed at the tent and asked, “Don’t you want any of this?”
“Not anymore.” Jima said, “You’ve slept in it; I don’t feel like washing it.”
“Can we have it then?”
Jima said, “If you can keep up with my pace, then don’t delay me.”
The two children immediately dashed into the tent, pulled out the folded quilt, and tied it up with a rope. Dagji carried it on his back and followed Jima closely.
“Come to my side; I have some things to ask you.” Jima said, stepping on the snowy ground, her shins clad in a light shin guard that fit her calf’s curves perfectly. “Your sister is too young and hard to communicate with.”
“Lady Jima, ask away, and I will answer everything.”
“Do you know anyone familiar with the mountains?” Jima asked, worried that the other party might not know. “Like hunters or someone like that, those who live in solitude.”
“All the lone hunters are long dead,” Dagji replied. “We don’t fish; we gather together to hunt beasts in the mountains or raid Alaman.”
“Alaman?”
“Taking weapons south, the strongest always gets a lot of good things from the weak southerners.”
“That’s raiding.” Jima glanced at the distant Ten Towns, one of the biggest and best-defended towns, “Besides Ten Towns, do you know anyone who understands this mountain range?”
“Yes, merchants.” He said, “Some dwarves come out from the mountains to trade with us, or merchants trade when passing through.”
“By the way, why don’t you rob them?”
“They’re really tough, especially the dwarves; they hold grudges and are solid all over, covered in iron.”
“When do the merchants come?”
“In spring.”
“Oh dear, we can only look for survivors then.” Jima kicked a stone by the roadside.
She had divined there were still survivors in Ten Towns, as the trolls had a need for fresh food and temporarily kept some people alive.
However, Jima detested rescue missions, especially when it involved infiltrating a monster army to save people; that was too troublesome.
Infiltrating a troll camp and urinating next to the troll chief was easier than saving people.
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Sorry for my terrible routine, which has affected all of you who are chasing the story.
