Chapter 101
The unexpected guest lifted her head and saw George jump in fright. She wore a hooded cloak, making it hard to see her face at first.
With that height and build, George thought of the “good girl” Jima, who should have been left behind. His heart sank, and he suddenly pulled back the hood, only to feel both disappointed and relieved when he saw an ugly face with red eyes and scales covering it.
It was a gnoll. This little monster, which claimed to have ancestral ties with dragons, reproduced quickly and held a status comparable to that of goblins.
The gnoll turned around, its tail standing up in fright below the robe, ready to flee.
“Stop!”
George had his great sword resting on her neck and said in the common tongue, “If you want to live, you need to cooperate with me.”
The gnoll slowly turned her head, trembling as she looked at him.
For some reason, George thought she looked somewhat familiar, and he couldn’t help but think of Jima. He squinted and carefully examined her face.
“Something from a water barrel!” Startled, she shrank back and shouted in a short voice, “I’ll cooperate, yes, yes!”
Hearing her voice, George felt it was different from her earlier mumbling. Just now, she had sounded more human.
Impulsively, he asked, “Are you Jima?”
The gnoll flinched and said, “No, don’t force me to do anything. I’ll bite off your little brother, I will, I will!”
Threatened by a gnoll not to be assaulted, George began to suspect that his face might have a special meaning in gnoll culture.
He asked a few more questions, but the gnoll seemed stunned with fear and responded randomly. From her words, George learned that a man who liked wearing barrel helmets and had an obsessive fascination with tails had done some very intimate things to her, the gnoll.
It was the truth.
George suspected it was some perverted adventurer. But then he thought—it really did sound a bit like Jima.
Despite the gnoll in front of him looking just like any other gnoll, who knows whether this was some kind of magic or a succubus’s extraordinary ability?
To verify his suspicion, he had a simple method in mind—use a slave contract to command her.
However, he quickly suppressed this thought. He had promised not to use slave contracts and decided it was best to act as if that evil thing didn’t exist. This time, if he used a slave contract to verify his suspicion, one day he would have a more noble reason to use the slave contract.
“Who was the pig teammate you mentioned earlier?”
“A pig, a white pig,” she continued with a hoarse voice, spitting out short words.
“Don’t lie.”
George pressed his sword’s blade closer to her neck.
“I was pulled here by that black-clad thing to find the treasury door.”
Pretty convenient, George thought with a bit of glee, “You know about the treasury door?”
“Yes, yes,” the gnoll said, “The master of the maze is a green dragon. She’s dead, but alive.”
Green dragon?
George immediately recalled relevant information in his mind.
Cunning, a puppet master who enjoys distorting intelligent creatures. This kind of evil dragon can corrupt a forest, causing tall trees and bushes to grow together, producing a supernatural mist. An evil dragon like that is incredibly troublesome and hard to deal with.
First, a green dragon’s lair is hard to find.
Second, a green dragon’s treasures are fewer compared to other types; they prefer to use lies and schemes to corrupt, distort, and manipulate intelligent creatures, making elves living in forests easy prey, leading to both mental and physical degradation. Thus, their collections are mostly items that remind them of successfully executed schemes.
But why would a green dragon willingly serve the demon king?
George further interrogated, deducing from the gnoll’s fragmented words that a half-dead green dragon was guarding this place. He suspected that demon king Jima had used some means to bind the green dragon.
However, now wasn’t the time for deep inquiries.
The Shadow King Arkanis was still holding Chamberlain tightly in his grasp, making it the perfect time to search for the treasury.
“Take me to find the treasury,” he ordered, “Don’t play tricks.”
“Don’t kill me,” the gnoll whimpered as she squatted down, covering her head with her hands, her red eyes anxiously watching George.
George was vigilant but promised, “If you haven’t deceived me, I will let you go and won’t use you as bait.”
The gnoll stood up, seemingly unwilling.
“You don’t want to take me to find the treasury?”
The gnoll hurriedly replied, “I do, I do!”
It was a lie.
The treasury had nothing to do with her; she shouldn’t have been so resistant.
George suspected she might not trust his promise.
To prevent the gnoll from escaping, he tied a rope around her neck, using a sturdy kind of hemp rope to prevent her from easily cutting it. He also checked the gnoll’s alignment.
Sure enough, the gnoll was radiating red light. This way, George could trigger a Light Charge on her, regardless of whether she held animosity towards him.
Jima felt terrible. The thick hemp rope around her neck was very uncomfortable.
That’s right, despite her appearance as an ordinary gnoll, she was indeed Jima.
She hadn’t been foolish enough to disguise herself knowing that George was coming to the maze without being on guard. So, she borrowed a magical item from the Shadow King Arkanis, killed a gnoll, and stole its identity.
To outsiders, she now resembled a gnoll and could subtly suggest to others that she was indeed a gnoll.
A moment ago, she had barely managed to deceive George. However, that didn’t mean her identity wouldn’t be exposed; this had a time limit. But compared to the concern of identity exposure, Jima was more worried about her treasury.
Who could have imagined that one day a dignified demon king would be tied up by an enemy and forced to hand over her treasury!
Such humiliation!
Jima gritted her teeth, vowing inwardly.
One day, when I turn the tables, I will put a plow on your neck and have you, a persistent virgin, cultivate the fields!
Before she could think of more ways to take revenge, the rope around her neck suddenly tightened. George unceremoniously pulled the rope, causing Jima to stumble slightly, nearly falling.
“Move.”
George’s tone was colder and more ruthless than usual.
Damn it, even in a life of evil, succubi didn’t suffer such treatment. Ha, men and their tail fetishes. In the end, they’re still superficial, just lusting after women’s bodies, those impotent virgins.
Reluctantly, Jima began to walk.
Her eyes darted around as she frantically thought of ways to resolve the situation.
Just delay, she thought. If she could prolong it until Shadow King Arkanis’ pig teammate snapped out of it and found her to rescue her, she would be free.
After walking a few steps on the damp grass, Jima began to slow down, going from long strides to small steps, and eventually nearly to a standstill; it was more like she was standing in place than walking.
A knock on her head.
“Think with your little brain about what the consequence of slacking off is,” George tapped Jima’s head with the sword.
“What?”
The heavy great sword slammed down on her hand.
“Start with your fingers,” George said. “I will stop the bleeding. For every time you slack off, I’ll chop off one finger. When your fingers are gone, I’ll chop off your hand, forearm, and finally your whole hand. Theoretically, you have up to sixteen chances to slack off.”
Jima swallowed hard.
This was the true face of the usually gentle hero towards evil creatures.
Such shamelessness, being tender towards beautiful evil beings, but cruel when I change my appearance. Shouldn’t paladins be those who don’t judge by appearance but only by inner beauty, those eunuchs?
He is just as lustful as this demon king!
She turned her head and used her prepared excuse, saying, “There are monsters in the grass, capturing people, so scary!”
At the same time, she pretended to tremble in fear. She did have a way to avoid the lurking vine monsters.
George thought it made sense. He tied the rope around his waist, holding his sword to deal with the vine monster’s attack, poking Jima in the back with the sword point, he said:
“Lead the way.”
Jima: “…..”
So now she became a member of Chamberlain’s party, a slave leading the way to death.
To prevent George from fulfilling his vow of chopping fingers, Jima very unwillingly took a few steps forward. After walking a few steps, she suddenly jumped up in fright.
George immediately became alert, only to see a grasshopper jump out from the nearby grass.
“Continue.”
George urged.
After five more steps, Jima again “jumped” in fright.
This time, George tapped her arm with his cold sword and said, “Extend your hand. If you don’t, I’ll take your whole hand.”
Jima was genuinely panicked this time. She even felt an impulse to admit her identity on the spot, saying:
“The vine monsters will kill me. Without me, you won’t find the treasury door.”
“At such a close distance, I can intercept the vine monster first.” George’s voice was devoid of emotion, making it clear he would sever Jima’s fingers without hesitation. “That’s not an excuse for slacking off.”
“I’m scared.”
Just as Jima finished speaking, the rope around her neck was suddenly pulled back. Jima pretended to lose her balance and fell to the ground. George tugged, pulling her closer to him by a couple of steps.
He coldly asked, “Are you done?”
“All done, all done.”
Jima quickly stood up and started to walk forward.
She touched a wooden necklace around her neck, her eyes freezing, as if they were caught in a winter storm. It was a little trinket she had hidden in the maze that allowed her to see the vine monsters. Less than ten meters ahead, beneath the ordinary grass, a stout vine monster lurked.
Combined with the white mist, it’s difficult to detect anything hiding in the grass.
Jima took a step, pretending to be vigilant as she glanced left and right while approaching the vine monster. Just as she entered a five-step range, several vines shot out from the grass, wrapping around Jima.
Jima pretended to be startled, freezing in place. As long as she was captured, it might hurt a bit, but it could prevent George from easily killing the vine monster, thus allowing her to buy some time.
George directly shoved Jima aside. Pain shot through her side from the impact, and with a tremendous force, Jima fell face first onto the ground. When she lifted her head, she saw George standing on the severed vines, stabbing a sword straight into the body of the vine monster.
“Get up.”
George withdrew his sword and commanded.
Jima noted this down in her mind and stood up, spitting out the remnants of the grass in her mouth.
She had no choice but to keep leading the way, racking her brains to find ways to delay time.
She had no choice but to lead the way aimlessly while silently praying that Shadow King Arkanis would hurry and show up.
Twenty minutes later, the corpse of a dead vine monster appeared before them.
This is bad; they had somehow looped back.
Jima’s heart sank, her neck grew cold, and the heavy sword rested on her shoulder as George questioned her, “Are you leading me astray? If you don’t answer…”
George turned the sword’s blade to rest on her shoulder.
He really would chop off my hand!
Jima shivered at the thought, instinctively ready to admit her true identity, she blurted out, “No! I am Jima—”
Just then, a flash of green light appeared before both of them, and a stunningly beautiful woman slowly emerged amidst the emerald glow.
A light, melodious voice came through, enchanting: “Warrior, as long as you rescue me from the demon king, I can take you to find the treasury.”
Jima let out a sigh of relief inside; the green dragon lady had finally come!
