Chapter Sixty-Eight: Exposure
In the distance, on the battlefield of the Fire World Army.
The great battle had yet to commence, and the Eternal God’s Remnants were leading a vast troop, while the empire, battered and bruised, gasped for breath, making every precious second count to regain its strength.
Yet, the war had never ceased; small-scale skirmishes and the magical winds from the Demon Realm turned the land into scorched earth.
Both sides sent out powerful warriors to ambush and kill each other. The Fire World Army had a clear advantage, with their relentless small-scale attacks, forming clusters and pairs to harass the imperial troops. Patrols were often wiped out, heads severed and, once decayed, hurled back into the empire’s camps by catapults.
The demonic banners longed to prove themselves, to grow stronger, and earn a shred of trust from the Four Dark Gods.
A bloodthirsty demon fell, its head bowed, the back of its neck severed; the skull of a Wu Tian person had but a thin layer of flesh left, its head pulled back, its shoulders heavily laden with blood.
George stood on the shoulder of this terrifying demon corpse, which was still adorned with the helmets of the Rick Guard and the White Wolf Knights, as well as several knight commanders’ helmets—trophies that testified to its illustrious deeds in life.
It had taken George considerable effort to slay it. After all, the demon warriors beside it were not mere decorations.
George pulled off his visor, revealing his hidden visage. He was tier-three and hadn’t slept for two days and nights; many places required him to confront formidable enemies. They moved like firemen, rushing up and down the front lines.
At this moment, a group of warriors clad in full black gothic armor rode towards him on warhorses. Their armor was riddled with the scars of battle, and they hung several severely mutated heads from their bodies. Like the bloodthirsty demon, they chose to display their military achievements.
The leading black knight reined in his horse, and in front of the bloodthirsty demon, he swung his sword. A knight raised a battle banner, the edges charred, emblazoned with a pattern of iron chains and skulls—it was the flag of the Hell Knights.
Upon seeing this banner, George felt more exhausted than if he had fought for ten days and ten nights straight.
The Hell Knights were enemies of the suffering people, among the most extreme of the Holy Orders, exalting torture and dark magic, taking pride in brutality and cruelty.
The leader was the Grand Knight Commander of the Hell Knights.
She was a political enemy of George. For these past few days, she had been keeping a close watch on him, convinced that the cult of hell conspired with the demons and vowed to find evidence to bring him down.
During this time, the total they had spent apart barely exceeded twelve hours.
The Grand Knight Commander of the Hell Knights removed her visor, revealing a beautiful face, pale like that of a young maiden, yet possessing a frail quality. It was hard to imagine that behind the rugged visor was such a face.
The only thing linking her to the cold, ruthless black armor was a terrifying scar across her face, running from her left eye over her nose to the corner of her mouth, leaving her blind in one eye.
But she was indeed the commander of the knights.
Last time, adhering to the principle that it was better to wrongly kill a thousand than to let one escape, she nearly massacred a group of refugees.
Only because someone in the group had complained about the empire, spoke ill of the emperor, and questioned his long fall from grace, suggesting surrender.
The Grand Knight Commander had simply hung the offender up, flayed his limbs before all the refugees, and then burned him alive with small flames.
She also stated that no one opposed her and those with weak wills should come forward; regardless of age or gender, they were to be punished, while the rest were sent to the frontlines as slave labor.
It was just as George happened to pass by to object, drawing his sword in confrontation that this refugee group, primarily composed of the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled, escaped calamity and continued on their journey to the rear.
This grudge was solidified.
“Good military achievements.”
The Grand Knight Commander looked at him with her one eye and said, “I will report for you. Additionally, the imperial general has issued orders again for us to once more rush to support.”
George shrugged; he was not worried about the Grand Knight Commander seeking revenge or spying on him. The Hell Knights maintained strict discipline and were reliable allies, having proven themselves.
However, the Grand Knight Commander was here seeking evidence of his collusion with Jima.
The most troubling part was that he really was colluding with a certain Demon King.
George recalled how Jima called for him earlier, fearing something had happened, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. For the foreseeable future, he should avoid showing any signs in front of the Grand Knight Commander.
“I need to rest.”
George said, “I also need the assistance of my comrade Saintess Jenna; I refuse this mission.”
“Okay,” the Grand Knight Commander replied, “we are not of the same system; I have no authority to command you.”
George maintained his expression, waiting for her to say “but.”
“But,” the Grand Knight Commander said, “the journey back to camp is long and dangerous. I have a duty to escort allies back safely; it happens to be on the way, and we still have time to hunt some horses…”
One of the black knights brought three horses as George’s mortal auxiliary team was nearby, tending to the wounded.
“You also need a few horses to transport your injured.”
Is she here to ease relations, or is she just unwilling to let him go?
George was uncertain, but it was nonetheless good news; he said, “Thank you.”
He continued, “I accept your gratitude, but I suggest you execute a few heavily injured individuals. They will only slow us down.”
“No.”
The Grand Knight Commander said:
“Your choice.”
The two parties traveled together along the road.
The Grand Knight Commander of the Hell Knights kept talking, incessantly like a census taker.
“How old are you this year? Theoretically speaking, you seem to be only in your early twenties. After you killed the Demon King Jima, I had a brief encounter with you then, you were still a youth, but now you look like you have matured significantly, like a middle-aged person…”
George did not speak, he had indeed been in the other world for eight years, rounding off, he could be considered forty now.
He responded, “Age is just a number to me now.”
“I am not doubting your military achievements.” The Grand Knight Commander hesitated for a moment, “I can feel that your appearance has been tempered by the passage of time.”
George replied, “Mm.”
“You have been staring at my head.”
If there was anything about her that seemed incompatible with the Hell Knights, the Grand Knight Commander would only rank second; because on her gentle yet beautiful face, there was at least one scar.
Ranking first was her silver hair, cascading down like a waterfall to her waist.
George’s gaze moved from under her helmet, cascading down like a waterfall to her waist.
Silver hair, he couldn’t help but speculate. She might have once been a frail and beautiful maiden, but that heart was utterly slain by a cruel scar, leaving only long hair to adorn this cold and evil person, remnants of her former self.
George said, “Yes.”
Is she pitying me?
The Grand Knight Commander said, “I have almost never shared my past with anyone. If you wish to make a trade with me, to exchange your past for mine, I would be willing to marry you.”
“No.”
“I am more curious why you keep your silver hair for combat. Are you not afraid of it getting caught in your weapon?”
“When you were in Shalin City, fighting alongside the succubi against the goblins, your daughter was drilling into the goblin caves.”
The Grand Knight Commander said: “Why must one wear a helmet, limiting their vision, while carrying a heavy greatsword, and drilling into the dark, narrow cave?”
George’s heart jolted; this was a probing question.
It seemed the Hell Knights had strong intelligence-gathering capabilities, even digging this out.
“Because the goblins are weak, my strength can overcome such limitations.” George said, “At that time, I also had the thought of demonstrating my strength to win opportunities for investigation.”
“My answer is the same.”
The Grand Knight Commander said: “I am strong enough, so I can have long hair.”
Having spent too long with an untruthful fiancée, George’s instincts told him this Grand Knight Commander was genuine.
“Oh.”
“I feel like you don’t believe me.”
The Grand Knight Commander: “Also, you didn’t answer my question. I heard you chased the Demon King Jima for quite a while.”
George pursed his lips, not speaking a word.
Earth’s ten thousand tons of special products were the secret of secrets; any related information was best kept under wraps.
Heh, a cold laugh came from behind the visor: “You’re feeling guilty.”
As George was about to retort, his eyelids suddenly grew heavy; Jima’s call echoed in his ears: “George… George…”
It was the second time today he was called; something must have happened urgently.
George, sitting in the saddle, began to feel restless, wanting to respond immediately.
But beside him, the Grand Knight Commander of the Hell Knights was right there watching.
George pondered an excuse to slip away. At that moment, his once-proud dignity faded entirely; the journey had been quite uneventful, the destination still far, without any legitimate reason to send off the Grand Knight Commander.
The voice calling him faded gradually.
Perhaps she was now in life-threatening danger, hiding in the air from the treacherous magical flames below, while a hundred thousand pink demons vented their malicious joy, throwing terrifying magical fire at her, with Jima’s wings reduced to mere skeletons, while behind her, hundreds of demon dragons were in pursuit.
George blurted out: “I need to take a dump.”
The Grand Knight Commander asked: “A dignified transcendental master has such needs?”
George could indeed relieve himself or not.
George pulled the reins, urging the horse along a dirt path towards the mutated scorched woodlands by the roadside.
As he rode, several Hell Knights accompanied her, trailing closely behind George.
“What are you doing?”
“To protect you while you relieve yourself.”
“Lying.”
The Grand Knight Commander said: “I will keep my eyes on you and see your bare backside, no problem, I’m not afraid of shame.”
The call of Jima grew quieter in his ears, like the breath of a person nearing death.
George sighed lightly, pulled the reins, and said: “Goodbye, I have something to attend to in the distance.”
The Grand Knight Commander’s wolf-like eyes sparkled.
Just before Jima’s calls vanished completely, George realized that his figure was blocking the Grand Knight Commander’s view, gradually fading until he disappeared.
Before completely vanishing, George heard the Grand Knight Commander’s excited voice in his ear, like a hunter capturing a cunning fox.
The Grand Knight Commander exclaimed: “Quick! You all better write this down, keep your eyes wide open for this white-eyed fellow’s antics!”
Suddenly, everything went dark, then bright again.
What met his eyes was a dimly lit bedroom, filled with ambiguous purple light, the air fragrant with Jima’s floral scent.
George immediately searched for Jima, worried something had happened to her.
“Shh! He’s coming for you to sneak attack!”
Suddenly from behind, something swept through the air with a silken sound, kicking hard into George’s back.
