Chapter 23 Untitled
Jima was still unaware. She teased George with a nickname she made up, causing the midnight aristocrats’ servants to toil for a day and a night.
She and Eve Frostleaf used various counter-divination methods to quietly avoid the bat’s surveillance, and then, embracing Eve Frostleaf, soared into the sky with wings spread wide, flying at the fastest speed toward Vanguard City.
It was tiring, but Jima was very satisfied; as long as there was an extraordinary beauty by her side, she was happy.
Embracing Eve Frostleaf, who held Jima’s wrist with her hands wrapped in snow-white gloves, she felt light as a leaf blown away by the wind.
Though she still wore the same expressionless face from Jima’s memories, her mood was low, to the point where Jima’s tentative affection was not met with any resistance, leading Jima to wonder if she had become emotionally dead.
After some time spent conversing, Jima finally understood the core of Eve Frostleaf’s troubles.
During their rest, she always resembled an ice sculpture, gazing at the campfire, letting the light reflect off her body.
Jima, beside her, fussed:
“Is it just that your dad doesn’t care and your mom doesn’t love you? You still have me as a good sister. Now that you have hands and feet and strength, the world is vast, and you can achieve great things.”
Eve Frostleaf nodded politely.
She perceived Jima’s intention behind her words— the succubus wanted mutual comfort and physical intimacy.
She felt no physiological rejection towards Jima’s body, nor could it be said that she felt any fondness. In the past, she had only agreed to not sever their relationship.
But now.
The campfire blazed brightly, yet it could not warm the cold emptiness within her heart.
“…So it’s not a big deal.” Jima said: “At worst, we’ll just die old without interacting.”
Eve Frostleaf’s cold green eyes looked at Jima, opening her mouth but saying nothing.
Jima asked, “Are you cold?”
“Cold.”
Jima moved closer and embraced her.
Eve Frostleaf’s body was aptly described as icy and exquisite.
Feeling the chill of her skin, Jima pondered.
Her tail and hands began to move, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns on Eve Frostleaf’s gloves.
At first, Eve Frostleaf was somewhat resistant, but as her body gradually warmed, she no longer resisted.
Forty to fifty minutes later.
Jima’s mind was calm, beginning to consider if George would reprimand her for this if he found out?
After all, he knew what kind of person she had been in the past.
Or perhaps this was Eve Frostleaf’s scheme, to have leverage over her?
“Jima.”
“Mm?”
Eve Frostleaf gently asked, “Can you help me forget my parents?”
“Why?” Jima replied, “As a behind-the-scenes high elf princess, doesn’t it benefit me at all?”
“I’m in pain.” Eve Frostleaf rarely spoke in long sentences: “I can’t help but care about them; they abandoned me, treating me like a stone. I’m next to my mother, yet I can’t publicly call her ‘mom.’ I couldn’t inherit their surname; my surname is merely a fallen leaf by the roadside, just like me, just the leaves that the tree has discarded.
“Thinking about how they will shower my sister with love, a hundred or a thousand times more than what they gave me is… painful.”
Jima said, “Lack of memory can affect your character.”
“I understand,” Eve Frostleaf said. “I’d rather be an ordinary material elf girl, accompanying everyone, than have a noble status.”
But your cool demeanor and enchanting personality come from your origins, your past. If you were just an ordinary elf girl…
Why then would I desire your body?
Jima thought to herself and said, “You’re right, but there’s a problem.”
“What problem?”
“Technically, it’s very difficult.” Jima spoke half-truths: “You are not an ordinary mortal; you’re a powerful being. Removing specific memories is already quite problematic.
“And as an extraordinary being, having a healthy mindset is important. Removing memories is like cutting out part of your brain, which could be very harmful to you. Therefore, Frostleaf, I’m sorry, but for your own good, I can’t do that.”
Eve Frostleaf’s silvery lashes fluttered slightly: “Is that so?”
Jima said, “I’m sorry, my dear sister.”
As for Eve Frostleaf’s psychological issues?
Jima was currently too lazy to dig deep into them and truly care for her. Having caught the fish, would she continue to feed it?
She looked at Eve Frostleaf and said, “I’m very sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“I’m sorry for not being able to provide you with a good environment.” Jima said with a smile, “So later, I will use a technique to bring you joy.”
“No need.” Eve Frostleaf pushed Jima away, saying, “I want to rest alone for a bit.”
Perhaps a woman’s sensitivity sensed something.
Jima wasn’t sure but didn’t press the issue any further.
The campfire crackled, sounding unusually lonely. Unable to sleep, Jima sat on a stone, gazing at the night sky and the distance.
Rarely contemplating the future of this world.
Currently, the war of annihilation was in full swing, with many deaths. She wondered what Eve Frostleaf’s kin were doing?
She hoped that the ancient race of high elves would, like their ancestors, play a significant role in the war of annihilation.
Jima certainly didn’t want the situation to deteriorate to the point where George had to die.
Many people in the world could die; even Eve Frostleaf beside her could die. If she died, Jima would willingly mourn her for a few sentences, squeezing out a few tears, even if no one was watching.
But George was different.
If that guy died, leaving his harem on Earth and coming to another world, wouldn’t it make him look like a muggle?
“The Order faction can hold out,” Jima muttered to herself, recalling the high elves’ past achievements, which calmed her heart.
In the past, when demons invaded the mortal realm, magic filled the air, supporting the horrible demons.
It was the high elves who built the great vortex to absorb the magic, making it hard for demons to appear in the mortal realm, protecting the world.
Although the elves are now divided into three factions, in the face of a common threat, even high elves and dark elves should be able to fight together, right?
In the far, far distance.
Crossing most of the continent, across the vast sea, and beyond the Island of High Elves, a donut-shaped land where high elves live.
At the coast, a black ark was sailing, crashing into a high elf warship.
The Witch King, the highest ruler of the dark elves, stood at the “bow” of the ship, vowing to reclaim his rightful throne.
He looked at the high elf port fortress ahead, drew his sword, and the dark elf executioners behind him shouted, “For the rightful Phoenix King.”
With that, hundreds of high elf captives lost their heads, blood spilling across the ground.
Their souls and lives transformed into dark magical power, becoming ammunition for the dark ark, as purple flames fell from the sky, scorching the port fortress.
