Chapter 141 Chapter 139 Betrayal
On the night of the Rainbow Festival.
In Shalin City, aboard the grand master’s flower ship, in the cargo hold.
The room was shrouded in darkness.
Jima carefully descended from the iron cage, leaning against the cabin wall, listening to the sound of fireworks exploding outside.
It was so late; why hadn’t the Shadow King shown up yet?
Jima felt anxious. Last night, the two of them had already made plans in her dream. The Shadow King would find an opportunity to quietly take her away while she performed, and then lead a rebellion.
But now, as the fireworks burst in the night sky, she hadn’t even seen a shadow of the Shadow King.
She guessed it was likely that he had given up on her. After all, if the Shadow King saved her, she would have no value to him, which was a perfectly normal thought for a demon.
Jima grew more anxious. She raised her tail and tapped the anklet on her ankle. This thing restricted her from escaping.
But she managed to suppress her growing panic and maintained an outward calm. Even if the obsidian wasn’t glowing, the Shadow King might be watching her joke from the darkness.
She looked around the pitch-black room, patiently waiting for the Shadow King to arrive. The darkness couldn’t hide her vision. She could see the colorless interior, with sharp-edged obsidian objects placed around, much like the most ordinary stones. She counted the edges on the obsidian objects.
Minutes ticked by.
Jima knew a grand auction was taking place outside. Slave after slave went up, waiting to be auctioned off, capable of satisfying their owner’s various desires—desire for conquest, desire for training, even the desire to be trained. With each slave that left the stage, her turn to appear grew ever closer.
Half an hour passed.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor, and with a creak, the door swung open, light piercing through the darkness, causing Jima to squint her golden eyes instinctively.
At the door stood the Grand Master Branshi, fully armed, wearing intricately patterned armor, with a one-sided red cloak draped over his right shoulder, hiding his right arm. Jima knew that beneath the cloak was a grotesque limb. As a Flesh Master, Grand Master Branshi could create “flesh enhancements” using his own blood, which he could then attach to himself to enhance his abilities.
His single-cloak was to hide the horrifying appearance of his right arm.
In short, Grand Master Branshi was well-prepared for the worst.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Jima’s golden eyes.
Grand Master Branshi smiled and said, “Good evening, girl. As each door opens, you’re hoping for the arrival of the hero George. I can confidently tell you, you won’t see him. It’s not that he isn’t coming; he’s tried to come three times, but each time I drove him back. He’s injured, his sword has cracks, and his armor is dented with holes. He has nowhere to rest, no one to repair his gear, and no supplies; he must return to the cathedral to recuperate. I believe he will remember you and see this as a personal shame, but the cathedral will assign him more important tasks, and you will be hidden away by your owner. Eventually, you’ll become one of his regrets, buried deep in his heart, and you will never meet again.”
Hehe, I never waited for him; I was waiting for that little Shadow King.
Jima asked, “He may not find me, but aren’t you afraid of death?”
Grand Master Branshi said, “I share your belief in the potential of hero George; he may become an angel walking the earth. But he wouldn’t directly murder me, as it would cause chaos in Shalin City and societal unrest, which the cathedral would never allow. He wouldn’t help my political enemies either, as that would be helping the bad guys. Haha, I know the cathedral well.”
“No, you misunderstand my meaning. There’s a saying among demons: ‘When mammoths fight, ants die in droves.’” Jima said, “You’ve intruded upon King Gima’s treasure house, you transact with the demons, you’ve angered the cathedral, yet you are so small, like an ant. Don’t you fear that one day the elephants might accidentally stomp you dead?”
“They won’t fight over me; you don’t need to worry about that,” Grand Master Branshi smiled. “And one more thing to remind you: when using examples, be careful. King Gima is dead and out of the game. There’s no need to bring up a dead person for the sake of parallelism.”
“Hehe.”
Jima clenched her hands but didn’t speak.
“Let’s start preparing, girl; it’s time to perform.” Grand Master Branshi said. “I believe you will dance well because you’ve been waiting for hero George, and taking the stage will be your best chance for salvation. At least I won’t be able to arrange for guards to surround you on stage.”
Jima moved her head away from the cabin wall, and the sound of fireworks immediately softened.
Perhaps that virgin is listening to the fireworks with me. What is he doing? Licking his wounds, picking up a broken sword, preparing for a fourth attempt?
Jima suddenly had a strange idea. She stood up, walked elegantly toward Grand Master Branshi.
Grand Master Branshi walked with her, flanked by three burly armored men, escorting the two as they made their way down the ship’s corridor.
Jima continued to play the role of a damsel in distress hoping for a hero to come save her, saying, “I believe that no matter how big the problem is, he will come.”
Grand Master Branshi laughed, “I hope he does; I would be very disappointed if he fails to show, as I’ve already informed the buyers of your story.”
Jima found this odd and asked, “Won’t you scare the buyers away?”
Grand Master Branshi graciously replied, “No, because I also told them that the slave contract can turn them into the hero George in your eyes. The buyers are very interested and willing to purchase. I am selling not just a uniquely beautiful succubus but also a touching story.”
Even Jima couldn’t help feeling a chill, and she instinctively retorted, “I won’t be deceived by magic.”
Grand Master Branshi called out to the elderly maid behind him: “Make a note of this.”
The elderly maid took out a small notebook and started writing: “Rainbow Festival, succubus Jima, the flower of Shalin City, openly defying the Grand Master, does not believe she will be deceived by the slave contract.”
Grand Master Branshi asked, “How many have said this?”
“Master, the forty-second.”
“Very good.” Grand Master Branshi turned back to Jima with a smile, “Thanks to the mages’ research in the field of mental realms, I can now openly tell them everything without affecting the final outcome at all. To make it clear, the forty-second, and not a single one has ever been able to escape the deceptive effects of the slave contract.”
Jima suddenly remembered the young dark-skinned maid on the balcony of the Mediterranean mage, who had been deceived by the slave contract into believing that the Mediterranean mage was her savior, loving him and striving to meet all his needs. The world in her eyes had been twisted by magic.
If I fell into the slave contract, I’d probably view a fat, greasy middle-aged man as a virgin. It would appear that a virgin on a silver-white horse came to save me, but in reality, it would be a greasy middle-aged man carrying me home….
Jima’s back hair stood on end; even though she was the former Demon King, she couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down her spine.
After Grand Master Branshi escorted Jima to the dressing room, he stood guard at the door. Two elderly maids, holding obsidian objects, stood next to Jima, watching her change clothes.
Still no sign of the Shadow King; he had broken his promise.
Jima felt a sinking feeling in her heart. As she slowly took off her clothes, she found a note that she didn’t know when had appeared in her pocket. Jima quietly unfolded the note and saw a line written on it:
“The thirsty sailors’ gathering has been checked; I can’t save you and take you away, it’s too strict. The ring and ram’s horn, I’ve hidden under the first big tree at the entrance of the flower ship garden. Good luck, bye.”
Jima’s heart felt like it had dropped into icy water.
