Chapter 46: Happiness
George’s armor had seen countless battles, and upon closer inspection, it was covered in many shallow dents. He cared for his armor meticulously, polishing it after applying holy oil. The holy sword rested on his shoulder, its blade seemingly forged of light, radiating a glimmer that reflected off his shoulder, emanating danger.
The emperor of the empire felt a twitch in his eyelids.
The giant sword was inconvenient to carry, and usually, people had attendants to help bear it or simply left it behind.
Now, a suspected fallen hero, whose fiancée was the commander of the demon army, swaggered in front of him, carrying a giant sword…
The atmosphere was tense.
The imperial guards and powerful figures of the empire watched George with piercing eyes, fixated on him.
The emperor began to regret his earlier distraction as he opened his mouth to speak.
Someone questioned, “Hero, why do you carry that cumbersome giant sword with you?”
George replied, “According to the operational code, the holy sword must always be within reach. As the holder of the holy sword, I must adhere to this reasonable and ancient tenet.”
This regulation had a source. It stemmed from an incident where a hero, while entertaining guests in the rear, did not bring his holy sword, leaving it in the army’s quarters, and ultimately fell victim to a surprise attack.
A ceremonial smile appeared on the emperor’s face: “Since the hero wishes to see me personally, do you have anything to report?”
“I hope to see the saintess Jenna.”
“Swann.” The emperor instructed, “Take him to see the saintess.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
George nodded respectfully at him, turned, and left, the sword tip twirling, while the others frowned, watching him go.
The emperor sighed with relief, maintaining his habitual polite smile.
The people around him whispered that it was truly rude, and that his mind was set in stone.
Forget it, paladins were always like this, especially the blessed paladins.
“Hero.” The emperor looked at his back and inexplicably felt pity, saying, “You should prepare yourself; the saintess was gravely injured six months ago and is now disabled.”
George’s body stiffened. He turned back and said, “Thank you.”
“Stop being so fidgety like a rodent, worrying about this and that.”
Someone muttered, “Look, our emperor has never shown fear, he believes in himself and us.”
George mounted his celestial warhorse, following a Rike guard away.
On the way, he thought about the emperor and couldn’t help but exclaim softly:
What a true king.
George knew his reputation was poor, and he insisted on bringing a weapon to meet the emperor.
First, to adhere to the combat rules, and also to prevent assassination.
Second, to gauge the emperor’s opinion of him.
George had many things to tell the emperor: firearms, machinery, steam engines, and local products from Earth.
However, spilling everything at once often backfires. If the emperor doubted him, then mentioning so much might instead raise suspicion that he was setting a trap.
After all, to use the products from Earth required informing the emperor that collaboration with the demon king Kima was necessary. He trusted Kima, but why should anyone else trust a demon?
Moreover, casually speaking about it could lead to difficulties if spies from the demon side caught wind of it.
George originally planned to reveal parts of his information slowly to gain the emperor’s trust and then disclose everything.
Now, he intended to find an opportunity to tell it all.
He wanted to see the saintess Jenna, not only to have her verify that he was indeed George, but also because he hadn’t seen her in a long time and missed her dearly.
He just didn’t know what kind of disability she had suffered? While she was injured and unconscious, she must have called out his name, and he couldn’t be by her side to protect her.
Thinking of this, George felt even more eager to meet the saintess Jenna.
…
Jenna felt exhausted.
On the battlefield, she diligently purified many demons.
Off the battlefield, she worked hard to cleanse corruption and heal wounds.
But the earth was decaying, the iron hooves of the apocalyptic army were ignited, burning their way across the desolate land.
More and more people were suffering from corruption and torment.
George and her friends were not by her side.
On many sleepless nights, she even resented George for disappearing for so long over a betraying succubus.
Yet in the mornings, she prayed for him to return safely.
During this chaotic era, she made many friends to talk to and confide in, but most of them had died, their deaths having come in various ways.
In this imminent end-times era, no one could expect to live a long life; lives were as ephemeral as roadside weeds, disappearing at any moment.
Thankfully, she still had one friend to talk to.
He was a child named Little Green.
Though simple-minded, he loved to eat the meals he cooked himself.
“Splash, splash, splash, gulp~”
“Little Green, is it good?”
A childish voice replied, followed by a loud burp: “I’m always hungry.”
“What sister?” Saintess Jenna laughed: “I can even call you aunt now; I already have a fiancé, just waiting for the wedding.”
“Is sister getting married? Like them, after the battle, you’ll go back to marry?”
“I’m not certain.” A look of sorrow crossed Saintess Jenna’s face: “I don’t even know if he’s alive.”
“Although I don’t know what marriage means, it should be deeper than friendship, right?”
Little Green said: “Sister is so nice; you’ll definitely find your fiancé, unlike them.”
“Them?”
“I heard them saying before they died, it was a pity they couldn’t return home, and then they went still.”
Saintess Jenna’s mood sank, but remembering he was a child, she decided not to let him know too much about death, despite how cruel the world had become with the end days upon them.
She said, “Don’t worry about them; they’re living happily in another world.”
Little Green laughed: “I know, I know, death and rebirth are cycles; they’re living joyfully, happily, always smiling.”
He must have read some fairy tales.
Saintess Jenna thought to herself, Little Green was a child full of fantasy; he always believed in fairy tales.
“Yes.” Saintess Jenna preserved the innocence in the child’s heart: “They are in another world, carefree, living happily.”
Little Green said: “It would be great if everyone could be that happy.”
What an innocent and kind child.
In the distance, there were the dying cries of the wounded, along with believers of the nonexistence theory, who were whipping themselves fiercely to “atone.”
In this environment, Little Green’s naive optimism was as precious as diamonds.
“Sister, I have to go back now; I heard the church bells; otherwise, Uncle Savior will kick my behind.”
Saintess Jenna asked, “Where are your parents?”
“I don’t have a mother, but I have a father who is very kind; I’ll see you next time, sister.”
Little Green’s voice grew quieter until it faded away.
After a while.
A group of dung spirits were sitting on the body of the Filthy Beast, on its shoulders, or burrowing into its chubby folds. They were greenish, resembling a rotting giant.
“Where is Little Green?”
“He said he met a sister.”
“Really, late again.”
“I’m here! I’m here!”
Little Green came running, and upon seeing his friends, he grinned widely, revealing a row of yellowed teeth, with a maggot creeping out of a cavity.
The dung spirits jumped up, joyfully shouting: “He’s here! He’s here!”
A few of them popped out from the Filthy Beast’s fat, greasy body, sweat dripping down their chins, also laughing.
“Sorry I’m late, I was telling you, that sister is so good; she cooks delicious food for me every day.”
The Filthy Beast opened a big mouth filled with maggots and said, “That’s great; you made a good friend.”
Little Green lamented: “It’s just that she’s too clean; she doesn’t want to be friends with germs at all.”
“To celebrate Little Green making friends and completing the Benevolent Father plan, what do you want to play today?”
Little Green jumped up excitedly, “I want to play the spinning game.”
The dung spirits jumped up together, laughing: “Spinning game, spinning game.”
“The spinning game is here!”
The Filthy Beast tilted the bell in its hands low, and the dung spirits laughed joyfully, jumping into the corroded bronze bell.
