Chapter 43 Chapter 44 A Recall
One day earlier, in the chapel, in the courtyard of the saintess.
The figure of the black-haired succubus girl leaning against the door disappeared behind the closed door.
Saintess Jenna smiled as she watched her leave, then turned around to see George’s azure eyes still filled with deep guilt.
She said softly, “She’s a very proud person; pity must be an insult to her.”
George, who had been holding his head high, lowered it slightly and said, “Wait a moment, let’s go look for a priest together and ask for blessings, shall we?”
Jenna looked at him. She noticed that George, who had once been proud and confident, always standing tall and with his head held high like a rooster, his eyes filled with determination and without an ounce of doubt, had changed.
“There’s no need to rush,” she casually picked up a silver plate from the table and said, “George, don’t feel like you owe me anything.”
“I feel like I’m committing a crime.”
“Gema’s charm is too strong.”
“Thank you for making excuses for me,” George said, “but that doesn’t change the nature of the things I’ve done to you.”
“Is that so? Am I so detestable to you?” Although Jenna was smiling, the silver plate she played with twisted slightly under her fingers, making a metallic sound of distortion.
“No, you misunderstood.”
“I’m glad; I could have countered her charm, but I’m really fed up with it.” The edges of the silver plate in Jenna’s hand began to curl, “Finally, I don’t have to go back to my room every day, writing confessions, and stuffing the paper into the trash can. I also don’t have to come up with ways to create coincidences to meet you.”
“Coincidence? Were they all intentional?”
“Yeah.” Jenna said, “Do you think I, as a saintess, am unfit for my role?” A crack formed in the silver plate between Jenna’s fingers.
“No,” George said, “I just find it strange.”
“Is it very strange? Dear George, sometimes I truly despise you for being so foolish, but those are all in the past.” Jenna tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear, her sapphire earrings swaying.
She continued, “Now you only feel guilt toward me, eager to make amends. No, it’s not about making amends; it’s about atoning for your sins, right? I suppose you even thought about confessing… it really hurts me.”
George said, “I always thought our relationship was a very pure friendship, but I polluted that purity.”
“Friendship? Are you still going to call me Saintess?” Jenna said, “From the moment we recognized each other, we were destined to walk into the wedding hall together.” She added, “The hero and the saintess… we are clearly the perfect match. Is there any status in the world that could be more fitting than us?”
George recalled the memories of being with the saintess and asked, “Really? I thought the spark of love between us extinguished on that summer day when we were twelve.”
Jenna reminisced and asked, “What happened that summer?”
“I confessed to you.”
“Ah?” Jenna said, “I only remember that summer was especially hot, and you shed a lot of blood in the arena and finally became the hero recognized by the chapel.”
“At that time, I had hurt my arm, and my scalp was also cut; you personally bandaged me, and I held your hand, saying: ‘I will dedicate my victory to you.’” George’s face rarely displayed an embarrassed expression, “I remember, knights would say the same to the lady they admired after winning in the arena.”
Jenna had a vague memory and said, “I think I told you not to get too excited and to take care of your injury? Because blood was seeping out from the bandage while you were talking. I didn’t refuse you then, did I?”
“Back then, many people said we were in love. I remember Gregory even asked me specifically. Although at that time I had only held your hand, I still nodded. Teacher Gregory was very pleased; I remember he laughed out loud.” George said, “But the next day, you publicly refuted those claims and said they were rumors.”
Jenna shyly set down the deformed silver plate she had manipulated. She said, “Shouldn’t a woman refuse many times? I was afraid you would see me as a loose woman, plus many girls were pursuing you.”
George silently looked at her without speaking.
Jenna sighed and said, “Well, there’s another reason: I asked Gregory, and he admitted that it was he who arranged for you to be by my side intentionally. I didn’t want my love to appear to be orchestrated. At that time, I thought Gregory had taught you to confess to me.”
George said, “I never knew about this.”
Jenna suddenly understood George’s feelings. He had always been a proud person, and after failing his first confession, it had caused significant harm to his self-esteem. From then on, whenever he felt a hint of affection for himself, he would think of that painful failure, extinguishing the flame of love.
A sense of guilt arose within her, and she stood up, reaching out to George, linking their pinkies, and he responded in kind.
Jenna smiled and said, “Do you remember that night under the laurel tree?”
“Hmm, I remember well. Not long after I arrived at the chapel, I met you at night, and we had a lot of fun.”
“It was fun, indeed,” Jenna said, “but I feel sorry for Aunt Susan. Although her rooster loved to peck at people, she was a good person.”
“Yeah, we shouldn’t have tied up the rooster with a grass rope and secretly sunk it into the river.” George recalled, “That night, the moonlight under the laurel tree was charming. We sat under the tree, and I asked you how to get into the Hero Preparatory Class.”
“I remember that; I thought you were bragging,” Jenna said, “You got angry and wanted to bet, vowing to hook pinkies with me.”
“Because I heard you would be the saintess in the future,” George said, “Only the hero could pursue the saintess.”
A beautiful smile blossomed on Jenna’s face, her cheeks flushed, she released her pinky and said, “I’m really lucky to have met you.”
They chatted for a while longer.
Half an hour later, George left Jenna’s home.
Watching George’s back disappear behind the door, Saintess Jenna gradually calmed her dizzy mind.
Jenna recalled her reactions while being charmed by George, which seemed different from her previous conclusions.
When George was under Gema’s influence, the power that Gema exuded would stir desire in those around her, and Jenna was affected as well.
She initially believed that George had been driven by passion at that moment and had shared the intimacy with her.
But now that she thought about it, it might not have been the case.
Perhaps after George’s confession failed, deep down, he had a determination to reclaim his dignity.
Therefore, when emotions spiraled out of control, he pressed himself onto the bed in a dominating manner, entering her body. One piece of evidence was that her intimate garments had been torn to shreds, while Gema’s clothing remained nearly intact.
Jenna’s face flushed, and she shook her head with a smile.
No matter the motivation, she no longer cared. As long as the result was good, she was satisfied.
…
…
That night, in the bedroom.
The succubus was asleep, steeped in dreams.
Gema dreamed of the day she lost her virginity.
She held the soft and delicate saintess in her arms when George burst through the door.
Ha, that detestable guy, wrapped up tightly in an oath and armor to protect his heart. As long as she could manipulate his emotions, he would become her puppet, not sneaking up to someone’s bedroom to wield a sword for some silly righteous cause.
The whole room was filled with the light pink desires of the hero.
She gently smiled at the hero, arching her tail slightly. Ever since she had practiced dancing diligently, every graceful move of hers was infused with seduction, easily gathering all the rosy desires in the room, she transformed these desires into a spear, twitching her tail.
The spear was thrown at the hero.
No, it was not a spear; it was a rocket.
With a boom.
Gema seemed to see the copper armor melting in the explosion, pushed by the explosion, squeezing through a small hole, transforming into a burst of metallic heat, shooting into George’s armor.
His weak vows began to burn, his armor melted, and the intense “desire” pierced through the divine protection, shooting into his soul.
He lost his reason.
Although he was being forcefully held down and struck on the bed, Gema laughed in her dream.
All creatures with emotions ultimately could not escape the fate of being manipulated and misled by her; she would no longer have to worry about death.
The dream grew blurry again, leaping forward.
Gema dreamed of the fragments of the demon king’s crown, black and exuding dark energy, which coalesced into a circle, forming the shape of a crown. She lifted the crown and placed it on her head, turning to see a face filled with disbelief belonging to George.
He questioned, “Why?!”
She couldn’t wait to laugh out loud, admitting she was the demon king, while also praising the taste of his childhood friend saintess; it was quite delightful.
“This is the dark secret you desired.”
As expected, he swung the holy sword and stabbed towards himself just like that day.
Gema employed the same trick again, transforming her passion into a spear aimed at George’s chest, seducing him, “You won’t harm me, will you—”
The sword pierced through her chest without any hesitation, cutting off her words.
“This isn’t scientific!”
Gema snapped her eyes open, sitting up abruptly, her chest heaving.
Thank goodness it was just a dream, but it felt too real. Could it be that I dreamt of a future event?
Gema began to sort through her dream, believing the nightmare stemmed from her fear of George.
“He was still under my charm; since there was a first time, there must be a second time.” Gema muttered to herself, “Unless he’s a holy warrior who won’t be defeated by the same trick twice.”
The surroundings of the room were dull black and white. Gema realized that after having a nightmare, she arrived in the dream realm.
Tomorrow was supposed to be the release of the little yellow book; she wondered if Mr. Dongdong was ready.
She jumped out of bed, spread her wings, and floated in the air. Aiming at the distant “dream seed”—a dark, smoke-like dot, she outstretched her hand and grabbed it forcefully.
In under a minute, she arrived in Mr. Dongdong’s dim dream. Gema snapped her fingers, wantonly distorting his dream.
Gray mist filled the space as she took her seat on a high throne. A blurry figure appeared at the lowest step of the throne.
It was Mr. Dongdong.
The reason he looked blurry was that Gema had forgotten what he looked like.
Her voice echoed in the empty palace, “How is it?”
The shadow below trembled, kneeling on the ground, saying, “Greatest master, your grimoire will be released tomorrow.”
The grimoire was a product of Mr. Dongdong’s head. He believed the little yellow book contained magical power, and Gema, to maintain her prestige, did not debunk this lie.
“Qualifying.” Gema crossed her legs and asked, “Did you make arrangements with the tavern?”
“Everything is set, but…”
“But what?”
“The people coming to the tavern are all poor.” Mr. Dongdong trembled as he continued, “I’m not questioning your wisdom, but they are illiterate and cannot appreciate the power within your grimoire, and they also cannot afford the five silver coins.”
“This book is meant for the masses, easy to understand, suitable for all ages.” Gema said, “Would you doubt my writing skills?”
“No, no, no, it’s not that. I’m still enamored with your grimoire. I’ve finished reading the draft, and my feeble eyes can barely handle the power contained in your words.” Mr. Dongdong prostrated on the ground, “Yet even so, the exciting plot made me finish the book.”
Gema’s tail swayed happily from the flattery.
“Oh? Then tell me what the ending is?”
Mr. Dongdong fell silent. Just as he was straining to bang his forehead on the ground.
Gema burst into a laugh, saying, “Ridiculous mortal, that’s enough. Remember, if things are exposed, you won’t escape.”
“I understand, master.”
With a snap of her fingers, Gema ended Mr. Dongdong’s dream and reveled in her pride on the way back.
It seems my talent is quite remarkable; although my writing is ugly, there are still people who can read it…
Gema returned to her body.
In the morning, when she got up and remembered that her little yellow book was to be sold today, she couldn’t help but feel anxious again.
Gema stood up from the bed and felt her legs slightly sore.
That hero, dominated by lust, really is despicable. He appears to be impotent on the surface but is so wild in bed. It’s been two days, and it still has an impact.
Gema complained about George in her heart as she walked to the window, leaning against it, lifting her head to look towards Lian Harbor, worrying about her book.
Mr. Dongdong’s worries were not unfounded. In this world, there are many illiterates, and even more poor people. I pursue the quality of the book too much; the price is too high, indirectly rejecting many poor people. Those willing to pay five silver coins for a book are surely educated people who will look down upon the little yellow book.
Not to mention that I am basically a Huaxia person, and the writing I produced would surely come across as heavily translated for people from other worlds, increasing the reading difficulty.
The plot I wrote is derived from the vast internet, guaranteeing others have not seen similar plots. But how can I ensure that people from another world like these plots?
Gema sighed, resting her chin on her hands, feeling anxious in her heart.
At this moment, the courtyard door was knocked on, and Gema glanced at the familiar bucket helmet behind the door and said, “Come in.”
George walked in.
Gema felt a warmth below, and her mood worsened.
“What’s wrong? Looking all glum.”
“Thinking of unhappy things.” Gema tilted her head to look at him, “By the way, although I’m a lustful succubus, I can’t today.”
“Ahem, I didn’t come for that today; I just passed by.”
“Oh~~.” Gema said, “Let me ask you something. If you answer it well, I’ll be happy.”
“What is it?”
“If, and I mean if.” Gema said, “If one day I committed a great sin that conflicts with your beliefs but does not harm you, and afterwards I can guarantee it won’t threaten your interests. Would you hunt me down?”
George frowned, feeling he faced a life-or-death question, and asked, “How bad is it?”
“Very big, so big that you can take two beautiful ladies with you, adventuring into a demon king’s harem to kill him.”
“Can I refuse to answer?”
“Of course…” Gema said, “No, you can’t.”
George fell silent, not answering.
“Oh, I know asking is pointless.” Gema waved her hand to dismiss George, saying, “Off you go, don’t disturb me from enjoying a beautiful morning.”
