Chapter 78 Chapter 79 The Green Wind
The images flooding in from outside the window changed repeatedly, finally settling on a cemetery.
The cemetery in the city emanated an eerie atmosphere, with a low wall clinging to withered vines, seemingly blocking out the sunlight. The light inside the cemetery was dim, making it impossible to see the words on the gravestones that were slanted into the ground. The gravestones clustered around the central mausoleum, the scene shifting until it stopped at the mausoleum’s entrance.
The steps were a dark red, stained with blood that seeped into the crevices of the stone bricks, dried, and then splattered with fresh blood again. The fresh blood mingled with the old stains.
Jima could tell at a glance that the newest bloodstains were at least from yesterday. It looked a lot like the scene of a newly turned vampire feeding. Normally, newly turned vampires crave the blood and flesh of living beings the most, feeding quite messily.
At that moment, a group of soldiers came to the cemetery, escorting a group of coffin bearers into the gloomy grounds. The procession did not approach the mausoleum, but rather laid down the coffin from a distance and turned to leave.
The scene followed this group of people as they exited the cemetery, revealing a sign prohibiting entry at the gate. Nearby, soldiers stood guard, and one soldier, holding a wooden stick, was shouting to disperse a group of children.
The image abruptly went dark, and Saint Jeanne released her grasp; the small incense burner hanging from her wrist had turned slightly red from the heat. She placed it on the ground and poured a cup of water over it.
“Sizzle.”
The moment the water touched the incense, it immediately began to steam, transforming into a white vapor.
George picked up a quill and wrote on the paper:
“It’s very suspicious; it matches the description in Section Three of ‘Signs of Vampire Corruption’ almost perfectly. The cemetery is sealed off, there are large bloodstains, and we already knew that the undead exist, yet the corpses have not been burned. We should investigate at night; those coffins may contain materials for black magic.”
Jima snatched the pen and wrote above it: “Let’s get out of here! What if we wake up tomorrow to find the entire city has turned into zombies, with a horde of bloodthirsty bats flying overhead and a bald vampire riding a dragon of the undead? We wouldn’t even have time to escape!”
Saint Jeanne wrote: “We should wait for a response from the cathedral; for now, we need to stay put. On paper, even though our numbers are small, our extraordinary power is superior, and we can certainly hold our ground in this cramped castle.”
Jima wrote: “Sister! You all are powerful and could hold out until old age, but I’m just a fragile little thing. The enemies are emotionless undead—charm won’t work on them, and they are completely geared toward me, a weak girl.”
Saint Jeanne picked up Jima’s paper, read it carefully several times, and continued writing beautifully in cursive: “We can request assistance from Saint John; should anything unexpected happen, he will come to our aid immediately.”
George added: “I won’t just sit back and do nothing; I’ll continue investigating Drew’s crimes, and if necessary, I can judge him directly. No matter how strong his black magic is, I can still bring him to justice.”
Tsk, the big shot is impressive. But it all seems like a tit-for-tat; the little third party dies, the hero transforms sorrow into strength, charges in, and turns the vampire into a bloody mess, and everyone is happy in the end…
In the end, the three came to a consensus.
On the surface, they would remain inactive but continue to investigate Drew’s crimes, allowing George to maximize his abilities and ensure he had the power to threaten Drew’s life.
After finishing their discussion, Saint Jeanne picked up the now cooled incense burner, dumped the damp ashes inside, replaced it with a new one, and continued to fold her hands, manipulating the light.
Outside the window, a patch of white clouds brightened, but unless one looked closely, it was hardly noticeable.
Five minutes later, the white clouds glowed again.
Saint Jeanne raised her head and wrote on the paper: “Saint John has replied, indicating he will provide support, and he will seal off below the cathedral to facilitate his arrival.”
“Very good.”
On the paper, it was clear that extraordinary power completely overwhelmed this city.
Since they were going to maintain the appearance of inaction, George stepped out from the two women’s room and returned to his own.
Jima also felt tired, sitting on the horse’s rear, her sore backside bouncing with each movement; she removed her cloak and fell asleep on the bed.
Saint Jeanne also took off her clothes. Hearing the rustling of fabric against skin, Jima slightly opened her eyes and peeked.
After shedding her robe, Saint Jeanne sat on the opposite bed and lay down.
Speaking of which, the room was so small, how could there be two beds in it?
Jima yawned and thought to herself, closing her eyes and quickly falling asleep.
…
…
Hoo~ hoo~.
The sound of the wind blowing past her ears.
Jima opened her eyes, groggily sitting up.
Jima yawned and said, “How long did I sleep? Sister Jeanne?”
There was no response in the room.
The fuzzy scene before her became clear. A bed composed of black and white lay in front of her, with a blurred figure lying on it, and a dream floated above it, glowing like cotton under a spotlight.
Jima then realized she had entered a dream.
“What’s going on? Before I slept, I was thinking about not entering the dream…”
Previously, Jima noticed that if she wandered into a dream while trying to sleep, it would lead to a drop in sleep quality, meaning that ten hours of sleep would barely match seven hours of normal sleep.
As a succubus, Jima was naturally skilled at entering dreams and could easily keep herself from waking up in the “dream”.
Hoo~ hoo~.
The sound of the wind reached her ears, very faint, like a cat purring softly beside her. But this was Jima’s first time hearing sounds other than her own in a dream.
She immediately became alert, her drowsiness fading, and her body remained completely still. Her small wings on her back slowly and silently unfolded, transforming into large wings, ready to take flight at any moment.
Jima glanced elsewhere and spotted the black smoke emanating from a dream seed far on the horizon. She lifted a finger toward the dream seed and felt a slight pull immediately.
As long as she wanted, she could flee at any time. Confirming this, Jima felt reassured enough to explore the source of the wind sound.
The sound of the wind came from outside the window.
Jima moved to the window, using her ability to distort dreams to pass through it and soar into the sky.
Below her, the black and white city resounded with the sound of the wind. Jima could see the light green wind blowing repeatedly over the city.
She landed on the highest point of the castle, stepping behind the battlements and taking a step back to prevent her fear of heights from acting up.
With a pair of golden eyes, she observed the green wind. Although the best way to understand it was through practice, like touching it with her hand.
However, this former demon king, well-versed in knowledge, tried to decode the strange green wind using her extensive experience.
Three minutes later.
“What the hell is this thing?”
Jima grew bolder, flapping her wings and reaching out her hand to touch the green wind.
The sound of the wind in her ears instantly transformed into the whispers of countless people, making her head spin. Her instincts told her that the danger was controllable. Jima focused her attention and listened to the words.
The whispers gradually became clearer.
“Have you heard… the lord bit into the neck of a living person…”
“I saw it with my own eyes…”
“He opened the gates to let us in, but only views us as reserve food…”
In addition, there were many more words that were difficult to decipher. They flooded into Jima’s ears, and being inherently rejected by her, it caused her extraordinary powers to waver.
Jima quickly withdrew her hand, flying backward and landing atop the castle, gasping for breath.
Rushing to open her personal information system, checking her status to see if she had lost control and transformed into a monster or something.
The personal information system informed Jima that she was in good condition, still a humanoid being, having not turned into a meatball or grown extra legs or hands.
Jima sighed in relief and turned off the personal information system, only to see that her hands were covered in black, hard fur, and her fingers had developed into curved, sharp claws.
“Just a normal phenomenon, just a normal phenomenon…” she reassured herself. Hearing that her voice hadn’t changed, Jima felt even calmer inside.
The hard fur on her arms gradually retreated, sinking back into her smooth skin.
Once an extraordinary being loses control over their own power, it’s very easy to become a monster.
Jima shifted her gaze from the fur on her arm, looking at the green wind, and fell into thought.
What I heard should be the rumors of the people. Is it of the same nature as my mist of rumors?
Jima opened her personal information panel and in the memo for “Practical Test of Personal Abilities”, she saw.
“…On the evening of the seventeenth, third experiment.”
“Regarding the ‘mist of rumors’, the first two experiments confirmed that the yellow mist is the visualization of rumors, and I can interpret the information of the rumors through my gaze. This time, I plan to conduct a further experiment through touch…”
“Touching carries no harm. After touching, I can hear the rumors currently and previously spreading…it’s quite easy to hear, and I can even determine when a particular rumor was uttered.”
“Conclusion: Touching allows one to understand specific rumors; it’s somewhat impractical.”
“…On the evening of the eighteenth, fourth experiment.”
Though it was an experiment report she wrote herself, Jima still lacked patience and went straight for the conclusion.
“Conclusion: I am convinced that the vitality of ‘rumors’ comes from people’s spirits; they exist as long as people believe in them, and cease to exist otherwise. Language has power, or rather, language carries power; each rumor nourishes the ‘mist of rumors’. I can utilize the power of what people believe to bring lies to reality… this is quite magical.”
Jima closed the memo and muttered to herself:
“It seems my powers have risen; I can now see the rumors that are making waves in reality while in a dream?”
This explanation made Jima feel much better. She put her hands on her hips, and the lingering black hard fur didn’t seem as glaring anymore.
So then, can I claim this original rumor as my own?
Jima was filled with curiosity, deciding she needed to study this thing properly later tonight.
As for diving into Drew’s dream to get to the bottom of things?
No rush; he must have some tricks up his sleeve. What if he has a backup plan?
The painful lesson of not wearing armor in the bedroom taught her to be cautious, very cautious.
How could she rush directly into his dream? She needed to investigate from the mortals near him first, check if he had a grandmother, and then delve into the memories of his childhood nanny…
In short, the target should ideally be ordinary people and elders.
As the saying goes, one should pick the soft persimmons to squeeze. It’s about bullying the weak and fearing the strong; those who don’t cower in front of the weak and fear the strong are all dead.
After making up her mind, Jima yawned in the dream, the surroundings gradually becoming blurry as she willingly fell into sleep.
