Chapter 112 Chapter 111 The Flower of Shalin City
George gasped heavily, blood dripping from his charred gauntlets, like a wild beast caught in a trap, battered and filled with rage. He held a massive sword across one shoulder while sitting in a black carriage; the horse that had been pulling the carriage lay decapitated at his feet.
The crowd around him was in a panic.
“Run! It’s the dogs of the Holy See!”
“Help!”
“They’re here to burn people!”
On the street, civilians fled in terror upon seeing George. Merchants selling their slaves on a wooden platform were so frightened that they leapt onto their mules, taking off with several valuable slaves.
Behind him, Chamberlain led a group of fully armed soldiers, surrounding George.
George was still panting heavily, turning to look at the terrified passengers inside the carriage. A thin woman with round glasses, freckled face, and wearing a robe was shaking with fear, curled up in a ball.
“Are you an apprentice, carrying a custom-made magical item?”
This was the eighth time he had spoken, and the eighth carriage he had stopped.
George had to admit that in his current state, drained of magic and with his armor damaged, he could not break through the soldiers’ blockade to rescue Jima. He had tried and had only come away with more wounds. Chamberlain was personally overseeing things and had told him:
“I saw with my own eyes that your succubus was delivered to the kind master Bransi long ago; you are too late. However, you might as well accompany my soldiers to the grave early.”
It was the truth.
George had no chance of reaching the kind master’s residence. He had broken his promise to protect Jima, and feelings of guilt flooded him, the pain greater than his wounds.
He just wanted to use his last ounce of strength to make amends.
The female apprentice said, “Please don’t burn me! I… I only have one slave, a lowly servant, I care about her—”
“Shut up,” George said. “I’m asking if you have one!”
“Yes, yes! I’m really a good person—”
“Where? Show me!”
The apprentice was so frightened she stammered, “I… I… what to take out?”
George’s head started to ache; he hated women like her.
At that moment, a hole suddenly burst through the carriage wall, and a crossbow bolt, as thick as three fingers, sliced past George’s face and pierced the carriage.
It was a giant crossbow set up in Shalin City.
“Relax, I paid for this; I’m the client. Now I’m taking my own things, so please hand them over, thank you.” George extended his hand, but the female apprentice screamed, shouting: “Help! He’s going to burn me!”
Outside, on the empty stone-paved street, soldiers lined up and surrounded the carriage from both the front and back. On the roof, a giant crossbow was aimed at the carriage, requiring three strong men to operate it; two of them were straining to wind up the winch.
Chamberlain remained expressionless, mounted on his warhorse, his one eye focused on the carriage. The woman’s screams could be heard clearly.
“Does the brave George want to enjoy one last thrill before death?” A soldier next to Chamberlain joked.
“No, this is his eighth carriage. He’s looking for a magical item that’s very important to him,” Chamberlain replied. “Tell the crossbowmen to hurry up and shoot him through. Don’t worry about who’s inside; otherwise, it’ll be bad if he escapes.”
“Should we let the brothers rush in? He’s going to die anyway.”
“The fewer deaths, the better.”
Whoosh!
The giant crossbow fired a bolt, breaking through the carriage wall and hitting a dent in George’s chest. It lodged beneath his ribs, an outcome of him deliberately turning to present the thickest part of his armor to the bolt’s path.
He finally found a silver bracelet from the terrified female apprentice, with blood dripping from his gauntlet onto the silver metal.
Bearing the pain, George told the now-weeping apprentice:
“Get out of here!”
The apprentice could only emit frantic, incoherent sounds, clutching at her hair, her eyes wide, staring at the bolt.
The bolt shot from the giant crossbow was too long, pinning George to the carriage.
George clenched his teeth, enduring the pain, raising his hand to take out a pre-prepared teleportation scroll from his pocket.
At that moment.
With a loud bang, a fireball hit the carriage. Wooden shards flew, flames engulfed the carriage, and it burned fiercely.
George, clad in heavy armor, suffered only minor burns; it seemed as though an invisible armor protected him from most of the flames. Though painful, the burns were not life-threatening. Amidst the scorching fire, George remained focused, with flames licking at his armor and smoke filling his nostrils.
George successfully maintained his concentration, channeling the magic within the teleportation scroll as he slowly began to chant the spell.
However, the female apprentice was not so fortunate; her long hair caught fire, and she finally stood up, shrieking in an ear-piercing scream as she rushed towards the carriage door.
A figure appeared in front of the carriage, a shield pushing aside the obstructive apprentice. It was Chamberlain; ever cautious, he chose to come inspect the situation alone.
George’s spell was nearing completion.
Chamberlain raised his fiery long sword, lunging at George, bellowing: “Die!”
He attempted to disrupt George; in his experience, no one could maintain their composure and cast a spell with an approaching sword and flames.
George articulated the spell clearly, without a hint of wavering, sitting in the carriage, facing Chamberlain’s blade head-on.
Yet, Chamberlain was faster, and his sword struck George’s armpit, the weakest point in his defense. George exerted all his strength as the scorching tip pierced through his chain mail, tearing the skin. Just as it was about to pierce deeper—
A force gripped the blade, halting its advance.
Chamberlain was startled, quickly withdrawing his sword, but before he could thrust again, George’s body shimmered with blue light, his figure vanishing within that glow.
Behind the iron-gray visor, admiration filled Chamberlain’s single eye.
Even though the opponent was the one who killed many of his soldiers and fed their corpses to a green dragon, he had to admit George was the most warrior-like warrior he had ever seen.
“Truly, he is the hero.”
Chamberlain whispered and turned away, hopping down from his horse.
“Sir! Are you alright?”
The soldiers rushed forward.
“He let him escape.” Chamberlain replied, repeating: “Truly, he is the hero; I am not his equal.”
The female apprentice rolled on the roadside, smoke emitting from her body.
“What about her?” A soldier murmured.
“Tell those poets later, just say that the most devout hero of the Holy See, while escaping, saw a female mage and abandoned his escape to burn her alive in the carriage, claiming it was an act of righteous judgment,” Chamberlain said blandly. “Now, we will do our utmost to assist this unfortunate woman.”
The mounted soldier chuckled. The minstrels knew how to shape a “truth” that everyone would like.
He turned and shouted: “The dogs of the Holy See want to burn the female mage! Quickly, lift her to the doctor. Everyone saw, it was that bastard George who burned her.”
“We saw it!” the soldiers shouted in unison.
Outside the wilderness of Shalin City.
A flash of blue light passed.
George’s figure appeared in the blue light, gasping for breath, clutching the silver bracelet tightly in his palm, then touching the sword sheathed on his back, ensuring everything was still there. He finally relaxed, stood up, and gripped the crossbow bolt embedded in his chest, feeling a mix of anger and self-punishment as he pulled it out forcefully.
Blood flowed out. George removed his deformed breastplate and took out a diamond-shaped amulet from his pocket, which bore a charred depression in its center. A warm current flowed from the amulet, closing his wounds and stopping the bleeding.
“Thank you, Jenna.”
George spoke to himself. He looked up, seeing the rising sun, confirmed his direction, and gazed deeply toward Shalin City, his azure eyes radiating an unwavering determination.
…
…
In the center of Shalin City, the noble district.
The noble district was established upon a high ground, with the kind master’s residence built at the highest point. The wide marble balcony of the kind master’s residence faced the most beautiful area of Shalin City. A port built of white stone led to a main river flowing into the city, with breakwaters calming the sea waters.
On the main river, various small boats continuously flowed, injecting vitality into the entire Shalin City.
Jima was dragged across the carpet by two robust women, one on each side. Nearby, the wealthy Fluris wore a smug smile, walking alongside them.
The old maid pushed open the pale yellow door leading to the balcony.
As Jima was dragged over the threshold and saw the familiar marble balcony, she gazed into the distance. Spotting the lush gardens stretching toward the port, her gaze swept past the white sandy area, settling on the bustling main river flowing from the port.
Very familiar; wasn’t this the place where the madam entertained the highest-class guests?
Every time Jima came to Shalin City, the kind master had received her here. This balcony was prepared for the most esteemed guests, or it was information she had “coincidentally” learned from others.
Arriving here for the first time as a prospective slave, Jima felt a peculiar sensation.
The two older women flanking her, vigilant and unblinking, tightly gripped her arms, seemingly worried that if they relaxed even slightly, she might slip away like water through their fingers and fly into the sky.
Well, she did have a pair of tiny wings. However, they could not fly at all.
Jima surveyed her surroundings. The balcony was empty, with only a round table made of glass on the red carpet, adorned with a wooden tub about a foot high and half a foot wide, pale in color and emitting a pleasant fragrance, beside which stood silver cups. Next to the round table were two cushioned armchairs, opulent and comfortable, upholstered in red velvet.
The kind master Bransi sat in one of the armchairs, facing away from the two women.
Upon seeing the two silver cups and the two armchairs, Fluris’s face lit up with excitement, his skin flushing as he bent lower.
“Master, Fluris has brought the girl.”
The old maid approached the kind master Bransi, bending over to speak softly.
Bransi stood up; compared to the last time Jima had seen him, he had aged considerably. His face bore several more wrinkles, heavy bags under his eyes, gray streaks in his hair, and he finally bore some semblance of a middle-aged man.
During this time, the mounting pressures of government affairs, along with the death of his daughter—oh no, beloved wife—had subjected the master of Shalin City to immense hardship.
Yet, upon seeing Jima, Bransi’s eyes sparkled, as if a heavy burden were lifted from his shoulders, and he appeared considerably younger.
Fluris, perceptive as ever, could hardly contain his excitement, clasping his hands behind his back.
Bransi said, “It’s you, the most beautiful flower of Shalin City. When I first saw you, I should have known that a woman capable of captivating men with such beauty could not possibly be mortal.”
“The flower of Shalin City?” Jima replied. “Are you saying you want to auction me off?”
Bransi was somewhat surprised and said, “You are even smarter than I imagined.”
“Ha. It seems that the flower of Shalin City you prepared has already kicked the bucket.” The corners of Jima’s mouth curled into a smile. “It’s clearly meant for the demon king Kimara, I could guess your intentions with my little toe.”
Bransi’s expression shifted. Jima’s words struck at the heart of his pain.
