Chapter 77 Chapter 78 Digging a Corner
Narrow corridors, narrow doors, narrow rooms, and narrow windows. Despite the presence of only one saint, Jenna, next to her, Ji Ma still felt that this room was as small as a prison cell.
Ji Ma looked at the window that could only fit a cat—better described as a crack in the wall—and felt as if she were in jail.
Beside Ji Ma, Saint Jenna was not troubled, quietly flipping through a book.
Ji Ma said, “Do you think there’s any difference between this room and a dungeon? Is Drew deliberately humiliating us?”
“Each room in the castle is this narrow,” Saint Jenna replied. “Drew is allowing us to carry weapons; that’s a kind of goodwill.”
“Oh, ‘I grant you the privilege to bear arms in my territory.’” Ji Ma mimicked Drew’s voice, “What an extreme honor.”
At that moment, a knock came on the half-closed door.
“It’s me, George.”
Since a certain day, George had developed a habit of knocking on doors for everything.
Ji Ma peeked out and said, “The door is ajar; just come in.”
George stepped over the threshold, his heavy armor clinking together with a dull sound. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, and his complexion didn’t look too good. He closed the door and walked into the room, and Ji Ma immediately felt that the space had become narrower, as cramped as a sardine can.
“What’s the situation?” Ji Ma asked. “Can we get out of this damn castle?”
George shook his head. “Lord Drew doesn’t allow it; we have to stay obediently in the castle.”
At that moment, a series of loud whip cracks came from below the window; with each sharp crack, someone cried out in pain. It was clear that someone was being whipped.
George sighed softly. “An innocent soldier is being flogged because of me.”
“What happened?”
“I inquired about the food supplies,” George said. “He told me he saw with his own eyes that the granary was piled high with food—more than ever before, Lord Drew was well-prepared. I pleaded with Lord Drew to help the refugees, and he promptly ordered that soldier thirty lashes. And he warned me not to try to take his power. I offered to buy the food, and he said the city should prepare for a long siege.”
Saint Jenna shook her head. “This is truly absurd. If I hadn’t seen Bishop Gregory alive with my own eyes, I would have thought the coalition had been drowned by the green-skinned army.”
But George said, “He does have some point. Since the coalition disbanded, the dispersed greenskin have all flowed into his territory, and the surrounding knight lords, after receiving requests for help, have yet to respond. That’s what he said; it’s the truth.”
Ji Ma said nothing. As soon as George finished the first sentence, she had started to scribble away. Once she finished writing, she looked around, tugged at George, and presented him with the paper.
It read: “Be careful of being eavesdropped. Otherwise, how would Drew know who told you the food supply?”
George nodded, and Saint Jenna immediately grew tense, glancing left and right.
George wrote, “I’m very suspicious of Drew; can you scout in his dreams?”
Being in the act of writing gave Ji Ma a boldness, and she wrote on the paper: “Of course! For the sake of all the innocent lives in the city, I will take on the deathly risk to delve into the memories of an extraordinary one’s dreams.”
George looked deeply at Ji Ma.
Haha, surely he must be profoundly moved by my resolve.
Ji Ma flashed a row of white teeth, smiling back.
George shook his head and wrote, “Don’t forget, written words are part of language.”
In other words, this guy can discern lies through words?! It seems he mentioned this to me before.
Ji Ma’s smile immediately turned awkward. She wrote: “I forgot. In that case, can I be compensated a bit for the hardship?”
Given that the lie had already flopped completely, it was better to seek some benefits.
“Sure, how many gold coins do you want?”
“Since we can’t go out these days,” Ji Ma wrote, “how about you teach me archery when you have time?”
After George took three seconds to comprehend the meaning, a slight shock passed over him, and he said, “Alright.”
Saint Jenna watched the letters on the paper, and her smile stiffened for a moment before quickly vanishing. However, this tiny change did not escape Ji Ma’s noticing.
She turned to Saint Jenna and asked, “Sister Jenna, can you shoot a bow? If not, let George teach together. It would be so boring with just two people.”
Ji Ma emphasized the word “two” slightly.
Saint Jenna put on a smile and said, “I can shoot.”
Ji Ma satisfactorily took back the paper and glanced at George, who had not noticed Saint Jenna’s small oddity at all.
Ji Ma felt proud of having dug a gap in the corner.
She continued to write on the paper: “What level does Drew rate?”
“I don’t know,” George wrote back, “But not—”
The quill ran out of ink, and George dipped it in the ink bottle, only to find that the ink bottle was also “just right” out of ink.
George whispered, “Is there any left?”
“I’m too lazy to look.” Ji Ma said, tilting her head to smile at George, spreading her five fingers, the soft white palm facing up, reached out to George, and with Saint Jenna watching, she winked at George.
Although George appeared outwardly unchanged, Ji Ma’s little nose caught a wisp of peach blossom fragrance. George took off his funnel steel glove and placed it on the bed, extending his rough index finger to tap on Ji Ma’s palm.
Ji Ma was sitting next to Saint Jenna, so coincidentally her palm was right in front of Saint Jenna, and before her, George wrote in Ji Ma’s palm: “His level won’t exceed silver.”
The rough finger slid across Ji Ma’s soft palm, tickling her heart, and she couldn’t help but slightly lower her head, letting out a low giggle. She lightly bit her cherry lips and looked up, her bright golden eyes filled with laughter, gazing at George.
The peach blossom fragrance became even more fragrant.
The last word was finished.
Ji Ma lightly hooked George’s finger with her delicate fingers, his palms facing up. His hands were full of calluses, and Ji Ma’s soft fingertips gently brushed over, feeling as if she were touching a rough, old tree root.
She took a glance at Saint Jenna’s profile, and the smile on the latter’s face had vanished without her noticing when.
Hehe, still wanting to enjoy the blessings of a couple? If I don’t blow up your harem and demolish the wall, I won’t call myself a demon king!
Ji Ma secretly rejoiced and wrote in a flourish:
“Good! Wait for my good news.”
After finishing, she flicked his palm.
George looked at her with confusion.
What’s wrong?
Just as Ji Ma was puzzled, George grasped Ji Ma’s finger and wrote on her palm: “What did you write?”
…..
If it weren’t for your strong abilities, I really wouldn’t have imagined how your character managed to find a girlfriend.
Ji Ma silently mocked in her heart, writing each word slowly and clearly.
George nodded at her, writing on her palm, “Be careful.”
Of course, this demon king is always cautious, it’s just that once I forgot to wear armor in the bedroom…
Ji Ma put down her hand and turned around to tidy up the empty ink bottle.
George was just about to put on his funnel steel glove.
At that moment, Saint Jenna took off her white gloves and grabbed his rough hand.
Have something to discuss?
George returned her gaze.
Saint Jenna nodded.
Just as George was about to spread his palm, Ji Ma exclaimed in surprise, “I found it!”
Both turned to see the black-haired succubus take out a bottle of ink from her fully packed backpack. She said nothing, simply placing the new ink bottle on the table and “conveniently” inserting the quill into the ink bottle. Beneath the ink bottle lay the paper—flipped over, with a large area ready for writing.
Saint Jenna stared at the quill in a conflicted manner, while George looked at her quizzically. A gust of wind blew in, swaying the quill, as if indicating something.
Saint Jenna let go of George’s hand, took the quill, and wrote a beautiful flowing script on the paper. Compared with someone’s handwriting, the difference was dramatic, like a phoenix versus a worm afflicted with epilepsy. But in terms of flirtation, there was also a significant gap between them.
Jenna wrote: “Now that the light is just right, should we use it to view the city and investigate Lord Drew?”
“Sure, I’ll keep watch and protect you.”
Ji Ma leaned over to see their conversation.
Use light to view? Could it be?
Ji Ma vaguely guessed what was coming, recalling George’s ability to see beyond the bucket helmet restrictions.
Saint Jenna handed the filled paper to Ji Ma, who carefully accepted it and placed it into her other-dimensional space bag.
Saint Jenna put on her white gloves and took out the prepared incense burner, signaling Ji Ma to make way. She sat in the spot by the window, hanging the incense around her wrists, pressing her palms together, her red lips parting to utter unsounded syllables.
A small glowing orb descended, dropping into the small incense burner, and a wisp of non-pungent smoke wafted from the holes on the burner, brushing past Saint Jenna’s oval face.
Her red lips moved slightly, and the light falling from the window grew brighter within the room. The Tyndall effect intensified, and the light column became prominent, shining onto Saint Jenna, enveloping her in a soft silver glow.
Ji Ma kept her eyes on Saint Jenna, immersed in the beautiful scene, completely unaware of a clear image emerging before Saint Jenna until George took a step forward, jolting her back to reality, where she noticed the image.
The image was an aerial view of the entire city, as if a drone had taken flight, capturing the city. It displayed every person on the streets with such clarity that even from high above, one could distinguish between men, women, the old, and the young.
It was the ability to manipulate “light.”
Ji Ma understood that for battle-class professions like George, they could operate light to obtain complete vision without being restricted by the bucket helmet, sometimes releasing a burst of white light that could blind the opponent. Thus, Saint Jenna’s ability to manipulate light must be even more powerful.
George stood in front of the image, and the light pouring in from the window fell onto his silver armor, also casting a halo on him.
Ji Ma sat in a spot where the light didn’t reach, watching the two in the light, deeply gazing at the pure Jenna, and then glancing at George.
George and the saint cooperated seamlessly, communicating effortlessly as the image zoomed in on the cemetery, bakery, and city walls, smooth without lag. Their only means of communication was George lightly patting Jenna on the shoulder.
A surge of indescribable sourness rose in her heart.
They matched so perfectly. Such a beautiful saint must belong to the brave, right? Why can’t I possess her?
She inwardly asked herself in regret, and the bitterness surged again.
I must dig that corner out, dig to the bottom.
Ji Ma quietly clenched her fists, feeling the lingering itches in her palms—the remnants left by George earlier. Her body shivered slightly as the itch flowed down to her inner thighs; she couldn’t help but rub her legs to stop the itch.
Yes, indeed, I must dig down to the bottom.
