Chapter Fifty-Eight Betrayal
The Kane Temple suppressed the Kane Divine Sword, emanating a destructive power that permanently changed the land, as if it had been scorched by the fires of war.
Jima, invisible, continued to fly, getting closer.
The nearer she got to the high elf military camp, the more her discontent grew; she could feel and sense that there were magical defenses around the camp, specifically designed to guard against demons like herself.
From experience, such high-end troops would certainly be on guard, unlike those on Earth.
Jima had no choice but to take a detour, circling around the sprawling ten-mile military camp, approaching from the flanks, coming to the side where the troops faced the fortress.
War was imminent.
The high elf fortress had dark walls, with archers holding longbows filling the ramparts. On the front tower, enchanted arbalists were already loaded.
The city gate was tightly closed, and rows of well-trained high elf spearmen stood on the street behind the gate.
An elven mage accompanying the troops, with a sword in one hand and a staff in the other, was gathering the winds of magic.
Both sides’ mages were competing for control of the magical winds on the field, which Jima could sense.
A great battle was about to break out, and it would be a grand war.
Her left eye burned with the impulse for war and slaughter, clashing against her chest with each heartbeat.
Jima suppressed the urge to join the fight; she had flown close to the height of the clouds and spotted a small white dot among the high elf formations below.
Taking up her binoculars, she saw that it was a knight.
He rode a silver-gray steed, donned a feathered helmet, wore scaled armor, and had a blazing sword at his waist, with a cape fastened to his waist. He was tall and handsome, and when she looked again at his face, she realized he was the one who had previously “urged” her to break the world record for swimming across the vast ocean, the Osiwan Guardian.
“I really have to thank you.” Jima murmured to herself, “Your daughter is quite impressive.”
It can only be said that fate plays tricks on people; back then, after swimming across the ocean and biting down in anger, she had sworn revenge—she would destroy everything he cherished right in front of him.
She heard that a certain demon had been bothering the Osiwan Guardian and his brother daily. Each time coming back defeated, with different kinds of deaths each time, leading her to suspect that perhaps he had grown fond of this feeling.
Jima found the task too difficult and decided to drop the idea.
Unexpectedly, this task could be considered one-tenth completed a century later, as she had indeed slept with his daughter, though they both had to face George’s lance charge together.
As Jima’s thoughts raced, she saw through the binoculars that the Osiwan Guardian had stopped his steed, raising his sword to negotiate alone.
Probably out of some political tradition, a basket was lowered from the city walls to bring down a high elf noble, and both sides exchanged documents, discussing matters for quite a while.
Jima couldn’t hear them, but she had heard that for the high elves, who were skilled in playing surface games, whoever could not maintain the facade first would lose.
The Osiwan Guardian lost; she could see from a distance that his face turned red, cursing loudly before leaping back onto his horse, brandishing the blazing sword and yelling.
Most likely calling for war.
Then suddenly, a rain of arrows shot down from the ramparts, like a waterfall cascading towards the Osiwan Guardian.
The arrows shattered and bounced off his armor; the Osiwan Guardian survived the hail of arrows, riding his steed as he narrowly escaped the arrow’s range, but his horse, laden with ten arrows, raised its head and let out a cry that even Jima could hear.
“Classic elf tradition.”
Jima murmured to herself.
Moreover, with her understanding of the high elves, even if the Kane Temple’s guards launched a surprise attack on this millennia-old elf, it would still be legal in terms of procedure and law, not considered a surprise attack.
The Osiwan Guardian, cursing, jumped down from his horse, greeting the soldiers coming to assist.
Jima sensed that this task had become more challenging. She needed to get close to the Osiwan Guardian, but he had just been ambushed and was full of rage, unable to strike back immediately.
At that moment, a succubus approached, convenient to relieve his anger.
“It seems I can only sneak in and hope not to be discovered, then pull Baya out…”
Just as she was planning.
In the binoculars, the Osiwan Guardian suddenly turned and pointed at himself, aggressive, as if a sword tip was pressed against his forehead.
Jima quickly moved the binoculars away, exclaiming, “So imposing.”
She put the binoculars away and tucked them into her bag.
Now the Osiwan Guardian was furious, and she had been discovered; she hoped he wouldn’t think too much about it.
Jima still intended to infiltrate the high elf military camp; although it was life-threatening, just the thought that even if she couldn’t escape and perished, she could still resurrect in the Dream Temple relieved the pressure.
Once she landed, she set her sights on a group of high elf cavalry nearby, quietly approaching, using her charm to impersonate one of them.
As she infiltrated, she felt considerable pressure.
If it were a modern military force from my hometown, I could probably swagger right in through the front door, ask for directions, walk straight up to the commander, casually create some chaos, and easily dismantle a division.
But I had to endure the risk of my life to infiltrate this high elf army.
Jima thought to herself, donning a high elf helmet, her face calm as she declared, “I am a high elf soldier.”
Just like that, she entered the military camp with her new companions.
On the other side.
The Osiwan Guardian was seething with rage.
His horse squatted before him, blood staining its silver coat; every time a healer pulled out an arrow, it couldn’t help but cry, its large eyes becoming misty.
The arrows had barbs, and a few strands of flesh were caught on them.
His war horse, which had accompanied him through countless battles, had never suffered such severe injuries, not even in battles against the Witch King; unexpectedly, the worst injury came from a backstabber of its own kin.
The Osiwan Guardian’s teeth ground together, nearly shattering his molars.
He shouted, “Traitor! Traitor! All of you are traitors!”
“Sir, the coriander-flavored tea you wanted is here.” A beautiful elven maid approached, with a tray carrying a cup of bright green tea.
The green color came from fresh coriander juice, and its odor was strong enough to make a normal person question their life. The tea leaves came from the distant Orient, Zhangdun, and it was the Osiwan Guardian’s favorite tea.
Ever since Zhangdun was under full attack from the world-destroying army, and news came that even Changyuan had been breached, the tea trade from Zhangdun came to a halt.
The maid halted her steps.
In the tea cup, crystal-clear ice cubes clinked against each other, making a sound like silver bells. This sound carried a magical charm, dissipating the heat in the body and, in turn, suppressing the Osiwan Guardian’s fury.
The Osiwan Guardian’s throat was parched; he longed to drink his favorite coriander tea.
He grasped the tea cup with one hand, the cold liquid touching his lips, his throat demanding to drink and quench its thirst.
Something was off.
The Osiwan Guardian suddenly recalled the feeling of being watched before.
He began to suspect why the coriander tea before him seemed so enticing?
Cautiously, he extended his tongue and lightly licked the cup’s rim, immediately feeling an ominous numbness; it was a poison!
The Osiwan Guardian gripped the cup tightly, drawing his blazing sword, shouting, “It’s poisonous! Who are you?”
The maid turned pale with fright, and guards rushed in, finding nothing incriminating on her.
The Osiwan Guardian asked, “Why?”
“Because you aim to harm us all.” The maid cried, “Someone found me and gave me poison; as long as I kill you, nobody can pull out the Kane Divine—”
The Osiwan Guardian swung his sword, splitting the maid in half, executing her on the spot.
“Everywhere are traitors, everywhere are conspirators; increase the checks. The dark four gods aim to harm me.”
Sure enough, ten minutes later, chaos erupted in the military camp.
The mages found a powerful succubus that had infiltrated their ranks, strong and likely a notorious demon. Despite being prepared, she still managed to escape.
Now the Osiwan Guardian’s surroundings were even more tightly guarded; he himself decided to forgo sleep and wait until the siege battle began.
