Chapter 129: Chapter 126 – The Old Lecher and the Fun-Seeker
Eve Frostleaf’s voice came from behind: “Wait.”
Is this a farewell kiss?
Jima turned around at once, looking expectantly at Eve Frostleaf.
“I haven’t told you what the treasure is yet,” Eve Frostleaf said, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Jima. “I’m afraid I can’t explain it clearly.”
Frostleaf is so considerate; she must really like me, putting so much thought into it.
Jima took the paper, feeling as if it carried Frostleaf’s body warmth, slightly cool. She opened it to find a sketch of a music box, with several arrows drawn beside it, highlighting its features and colors in Elvish.
“Just this one?” Jima couldn’t help but boast in front of the beauty. “I can bring back all the treasures that belong to the Elves inside.”
Frostleaf’s indifferent face broke into a smile. “That would be hard on you.”
Jima wanted to slap herself; at that moment, Frostleaf added, “Never mind, I can’t let Jima take too many risks.”
So understanding.
Jima smiled again. “You’re so sweet.”
“I just hope Jima remembers the promises you made to me,” Eve Frostleaf said. “You mustn’t take any risks; just do your best.”
Jima felt lighthearted, waving her hand dismissively. “This little thing is no problem. Just watch me.”
With that, Jima jumped into the entrance of the Dream Palace.
As she felt a sensation of falling, she opened her eyes to see a forest bathed in moonlight.
The cat-eared maid, Lianxi, was busy operating the Flying Nimbus to carry gold coins, her forehead glistening with sweat. She had been exercising and was well-nourished, having grown significantly taller and more developed, as Jima had her wear long boots.
Jima felt great and ran towards the cat maid Lianxi, hugging her and spinning around, startling her. She set Lianxi back down and said:
“Keep up the good work; I have an urgent matter to attend to.”
With that, she took off running towards a nearby palace.
Lianxi watched Jima’s retreating figure, resting her chin on her hand, and said, “My master is simply wonderful.”
Jima was indeed in a hurry. She checked the time and thought that if everything went smoothly, she could finish this task in two hours, enough time to do “parallel jogging” with Frostleaf in bed.
If she were half an hour earlier, they could have “jogged” for an extra half hour, developing new positions.
With that thought, Jima ran even faster, leaping into the air, spreading her wings, and spinning in the air. She scanned the night sky, looking towards the horizon where dozens of wisps of smoke rose, coming from the “Dream Seeds.” It was nighttime, and many people were asleep.
Jima quickly identified the wisps of smoke belonging to Arcanis among them. She raised her hand, forming a finger gun, aimed, and said, “Bang! Respond to my command, Arcanis.”
The invitation from the Dream Palace immediately reached the wisps of smoke belonging to Arcanis.
Ten seconds passed, then twenty, then thirty, but there was no response.
Jima had reached the palace, landing on a soft bed. Frustrated, she aimed at Arcanis’s smoke and fired multiple times, but there was still no reaction.
Alright, Shadow King Arcanis, you’ve got no sense of contract, pretending to be dead.
Angrily flapping her wings, Jima flew into the night sky, heading into the black-and-white dream world, preparing to find Arcanis herself.
Meanwhile, far away in the Empire.
In the countryside of the Tabera Province, far from the imperial capital, Adolf.
The witch hunter, Arcanis, who received almost all the noble’s criticism in Adolf, was sleeping in his caravan, with his arms wrapped around his wife, Waylin, under a blanket. His eyelids trembled, shaking vigorously until he finally opened them.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw Waylin’s exquisite face close at hand—beautiful but resembling a doll’s face in a dark room, causing Arcanis to feel a chill.
As his consciousness returned, he could feel the coolness on his neck and thigh. His gaze shifted downward, where he saw Waylin’s bare, snow-white arm draped over his neck, her sharp nails pressing into the back of his neck.
Her thigh was pressed against his leg, as if afraid he might escape, as if he were her prey.
The witch hunter, Arcanis, recalled some literature about romantic relationships with vampires, feeling anger rise within him. Those authors should spend a night with a vampire; it would surely scare the hell out of them.
He sensed that Waylin was a true ancestor of vampires, a powerful one. Memories began to resurface.
She showed no restraint in her possessiveness, always preferring to hold him closely, four limbs entangled, like an octopus dragging an entire merchant ship into the depths of the sea.
Furthermore, she had reverted to her silver hair and blood-red eyes, ordinary in others’ eyes. Whenever the silver-haired, blood-eyed Waylin smiled at him, Arcanis felt like prey under the gaze of a hunter.
Fortunately, he hadn’t responded to that succubus’s invitation earlier; otherwise, if he had vanished, it would have triggered Waylin. Who knows what she might have done?
The witch hunter, Arcanis, was grateful he had woken up in time; otherwise, if that succubus had come directly, it would have been a problem.
Arcanis raised his gaze, intending to close his eyes and go back to sleep, but he saw a pair of large blood-red eyes staring at him. Even Arcanis, the witch hunter, couldn’t help but gasp.
“My dear husband,” Waylin smiled and said, “You’re awake?”
“Sleep isn’t going well; I plan to continue sleeping,” Arcanis quickly shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep.
However, Waylin leaned down, pressing her ear against his chest, a chill seeping through to his beating heart.
“Your heart is racing. Do you have something on your mind?”
“Not really.”
“Or perhaps, do you want it? You seemed to be staring at my chest just now.”
“Really, I don’t.”
Waylin pushed the witch hunter, Arcanis, aside and pressed herself against him, whispering in his ear, “Dear, how about I help your heart slow down? No need to be shy; we’re married.”
“No thanks, I just want to sleep.” The witch hunter Arcanis yawned. “Please don’t disturb me, okay? My dear.”
Waylin lowered her eyelids and said, “Alright.”
With that, she arranged the blanket around Arcanis and prepared to lie down to sleep.
Suddenly, the caravan shook.
“Arcanis!!! Stop pretending to be dead and get up.”
Jima kicked the caravan and angrily jumped inside, holding a “branch axe gun.”
Waylin’s blood-red eyes looked towards Jima’s lovely face, more enticing than her perfectly shaped breasts and rounded hips, causing her to recall how Arcanis’s heart had raced earlier, filled with hostility.
Arcanis jumped in surprise and asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sorry at all for interrupting you lovebirds,” Jima replied. “I signed a contract with you; when I need you urgently, how dare you play dead? It’s one thing to pretend, but waking up suddenly? Quickly go to the Dream Palace and respond to my summons.”
Waylin’s dangerous blood-red eyes glared at Jima, filled with a mix of anger and a sense of being deceived.
Shadow King Arcanis said, “Couldn’t you have told me a day in advance?”
“It’s urgent!” Jima’s gaze fell on Waylin’s face. “Otherwise… you don’t want to breach the contract, do you?”
“Alright, I’ll sleep immediately; just go,” Arcanis said.
“Good, the sooner the better.” Jima stepped back, bowed slightly to them, and added, “I apologize for disturbing your romantic night.”
With that, she vanished into thin air.
Arcanis faced Waylin’s dangerous gaze as she bit her teeth. He shrugged and said, “There was nothing I could do; I signed a contract with the devil.”
He closed his eyes and lay back down on the pillow.
Waylin was furious but powerless. She was currently playing the role of a regular witch hunter’s wife. She did not want Arcanis to discover her secret of being a vampire. She reached out to hold Arcanis, her husband, tightly, but worried about waking him up, she could only lie on her side and close her eyes.
In the Dream Palace.
In the morgue.
Arcanis shouted at Jima:
“Damn it! Are you trying to get me killed? Didn’t you notice Waylin’s murderous look? She has already noticed something. If you provoke her and she remembers she is her mother’s powerful vampire ancestor, even the merciless Valkama couldn’t kill her completely—I’m done for.”
“Is it my fault for being pretty?” Jima felt no guilt. “If you hadn’t resisted the invitation, I wouldn’t have to waste magic and time looking for you in reality.”
“Damn it, may Sigmar strike you with his hammer to the heavens.” Arcanis stomped his foot, demanding, “What do you want me to do?”
Jima pointed at the corpse of the ratman assassin in the morgue and said, “Disguise yourself as a ratman and help me steal a treasure from the dwarven vault.”
At that moment, George entered with the Dream Palace’s invitation.
Jima instinctively agreed; he often needed to use the training grounds and library in the Dream Palace.
“Is that it?”
“Things are urgent; the faster, the better,” Jima stated. “You better not cause trouble.”
“No fun at all?” Arcanis replied. “And you want me to hurry?”
“Just don’t expose our location.” Jima, fearing Arcanis would mess things up, took a step back. “Our team sets off tomorrow, leaving the dwarven city.”
An hour and a half later.
In Dulong City.
Jima regretted it, wishing she could slap herself. How could she be foolish enough to agree to Arcanis?
Not far away, in the tunnel, a vigilant dwarf guard stood under a torch, scanning the surroundings carefully, completely unaware that half of his precious beard was missing.
In the blink of an eye, his partner, whose beard was also under a helmet, had half of it neatly sliced off.
Jima’s heart nearly stopped.
The War of Long Beards began when the dwarven trade route was attacked by what appeared to be a raiding party of high elves. The dwarven ambassador demanded an explanation from the high elves, but the arrogant elven king directly shaved off all the dwarven ambassadors’ beards.
When that news returned home, the dwarves collectively erupted in fury, and the then-high king of the dwarves declared a full-scale war against their ally, the high elves, gathering unanimous support from the dwarves.
Arcanis’s form appeared in Jima’s “Calm Secluded Barrier,” holding a large bundle of beards, estimated to belong to at least a dozen “victimized” dwarves.
Shadow King Arcanis exclaimed, “Wow, dwarven beards are quite warm; no wonder they like them so much.”
“Arcanis! What are you doing?!” Jima yelled. “We’re just here to steal something!”
“Don’t you think this is fun?” Arcanis, wearing the face of the ratman assassin, said. “Just think about it; when I run out waving these beards at the dwarves, how furious do you think they’ll get?”
Saying this, Arcanis burst into laughter himself.
“My goodness!” Jima was so furious she switched to speaking in Chinese. “I want you to steal something, not play around.”
“The vault is heavily guarded; I was quietly planning to ambush them with my shadow.” Arcanis added, “Isn’t that a good idea?”
“No way! Cutting beards is already outrageous enough; if you provoke them again, it will really make the dwarves explode!”
“Then it’ll take a bit longer.”
Just then, Jima received an invitation from Eve Frostleaf to enter the Dream Palace.
She must have seen that it was time for her; she was waiting for me in the Dream Palace, preparing well.
Thinking of Eve Frostleaf’s long silver legs, Jima cast aside all thoughts and, while accepting Frostleaf’s invitation, said, “Alright, let’s do this.”
“I need you to cooperate a bit; it’s best if the whole city knows,” Arcanis said. “Your barrier works really well.”
“Sure.” Jima replied. “By the way, are you going to provoke them in your true form?”
“Of course.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
Arcanis countered, “Provoking them with shadows—what’s fun about that?”
“You’re insane,” Jima said, continuing, “Fine, I agree; hurry up. Time waits for no one.”
“Alright.”
Arcanis jumped out of the “Calm Secluded Barrier,” disguised as a ratman assassin, shouting fluently in ratman tongue, “Shorty! Shorty! Look over here, yes, yes! Check out your beard hair!”
With that, ratman Arcanis waved the dwarf’s large beard like a cheerleader, tail flipping, singing and dancing, perfectly mimicking the ratman’s antics.
The two dwarf guards turned red with rage, touching their beards and realizing half of it was gone, their faces becoming purple from anger, charging towards Arcanis. Delighted, Arcanis burst into laughter and turned to run.
Jima watched helplessly as he dashed out into the streets of Dulong City, pursued by a throng of furious dwarves, crashing into another group of dwarves, scrambling in a panic to escape. The entire city erupted into chaos, and Arcanis’s figure was headed towards the clan leader’s palace.
Jima felt that this trouble was bigger than she had imagined.
But thinking of Frostleaf waiting for her in the Dream Palace, her heart felt like it was being scratched by a cat’s paw, and she couldn’t be bothered to think too much.
As long as she could quickly get the music box, she wouldn’t mind if the city burned down.
After anxiously waiting for several minutes, a shadow finally appeared in front of Jima, holding a green-gold music box. Jima took the music box, turned to leave, but heard a roar from deep in the tunnel:
“By the beard of Glorni! That damn ratman brat desecrated the face of the ancestor statue in the vault!”
Immediately, Jima made a run for it; she couldn’t let Frostleaf wait too long; the timing was just right.
She found a hidden spot, hurriedly opened the entrance to the Dream Palace, and jumped in.
The Dream Palace under the moonlight was beautifully serene. The silver moonlight falling from the night sky reminded Jima of Frostleaf.
Jima sat on the Flying Nimbus, cradling the music box, her legs crossed, rushing towards the tranquil palace. As soon as she entered, a wave of moaning echoed from deep within the palace. Jima froze in place, listening intently, and another sound followed, allowing her to distinguish it carefully.
It was indeed Frostleaf’s voice.
