Chapter 138 Chapter 139 Meeting
Le’an Port, outskirts.
George rubbed his face with one hand, feeling immense pressure. The dark elves had stolen more than half of the Demon Lord Gima’s extraordinary matter and vanished without a trace.
Although the container housing the extraordinary matter of Demon Lord Gima was specially made and closely linked to the Sanctuary, making it very easy to be detected by the “Prophecy Spell,” the messenger had just brought news of failure. The priests’ prophetic ritual had failed, speculating that the dark elf attackers were highly skilled and had switched the container. They could only ascertain that the attackers had not yet set sail.
Eve Frostleaf brought news from the high elves, saying a fleet of high elves was heading toward the coastline of the Knight Bartok kingdom. Once they knew the general location of the dark elves, they could block their exit to sea.
However, the problem was, no one knew where the dark elves were hiding; all leads had gone cold.
The only glimmer of hope was the clue from Mr. Dongdong, who had fortuitously scared himself into unconsciousness during the last attack and survived. The high elves had brought him to Le’an Port, but after waiting for many days, no one had come to find Mr. Dongdong.
Various signs indicated that Mr. Dongdong was merely a bait to lure George away from the Sanctuary.
But they could only wait.
“Brother George, once the dark elves collaborate with the demon race to gather all of Demon Lord Gima’s extraordinary matter, they could potentially resurrect him,” said a gray-robed combat priest as he wove a dreamcatcher at George’s bedside. “Reaching the level of a Demon Lord makes it difficult to be completely killed; there are precedents for this.”
“I understand.”
“You are doubting someone; who could it be?”
George’s lips moved slightly, but he did not utter Gima’s name.
The gray-robed combat priest shook his head, losing hope. The Sanctuary’s investigation team had questioned George for an entire morning, and George had not answered. However, the investigation team believed the name that George buried deep in his heart was that of a succubus.
“Alright.” The gray-robed combat priest said, “This thing can change your position in the dream.”
“I know, I won’t do anything sneaky.”
The gray-robed combat priest left.
George lay in bed, filled with anxiety, thinking about the smile of the dark-haired succubus girl.
Could it be that you colluded with the dark elves? Were you coerced, trapped, or was it all unbeknownst to you?
He closed his eyes heavily, the question swirling in his mind, and he found it hard to fall asleep. He forced himself to remain still, and after a long while, he finally drifted into slumber.
—
—
In the black and white dream world, the succubus spread her black wings, the massive wings lifting her body and suspending it in the air as she gazed toward the south.
In the far distance, a thin wisp of black smoke hung in the horizon. With a glance, she recognized the information it contained; it was George’s dream seed, located within the inner city of the Sanctuary.
She then searched for Mr. Dongdong’s dream seed and discovered him at Le’an Port.
Gima felt a sense of relief in her heart, indicating that even if Mr. Dongdong was exposed, she wouldn’t have to face George. Being his opponent always made Gima feel certain of defeat.
“How idle.” Gima reminisced about George’s face, which was becoming somewhat unclear; it felt like a long time since she had last seen him. “That guy must be living a tedious life between the dormitory, library, and training ground.”
“The only entertainment might be reading, or perhaps spending half the day in the bathroom washing up, most likely pleasuring himself in there.”
“His character is dull, and his social circle is small; he definitely doesn’t have women around, living like a monk despite being a platinum class.”
Gima flicked a strand of her black hair, thinking, “I will show some mercy and play the role of a female bodhisattva, bringing some fun into your life.”
With that, she raised her hand and reached for George’s dream seed. A pulling force dragged her, crossing countless waters, heading straight for George’s dreams.
In the dream, a gray mist gradually cleared.
Gima found herself in a wooded area on the outskirts of White City. The sky was gray, with heavy leaden clouds pressing down, creating a sense of oppression.
“The weather is nice, but it seems George isn’t happy.” Gima slowly descended from the sky, landing on a branch. “He said he likes clear blue skies, tsk, he just loves sweating in the sun. Let’s see if I can find George’s location.”
With her long legs clad only in black stockings, she stood firmly on the branch, looking left and right. Soon, she spotted a white bucket helmet among the dense branches; it was George. He was walking through the woods, passing directly below her.
This guy didn’t even notice me; it’s clear my skills have improved. It’s time to give him a good scare.
Gima shifted her eyes, becoming invisible, waiting for him to come closer.
The sound of snapping twigs drew nearer, causing Gima’s heart to race faster.
She pondered whether she should turn into something frightful like a skull. Maybe that would scare George into wetting his pants; that scene would surely be hilarious.
At that moment, a breeze swept by, sending a chill across her skin. Gima looked down and remembered she was only wearing long stockings while sleeping.
Just then, George, clad in heavy plate armor like an iron man, squeezed through the underbrush ten meters away, appearing on the path.
Gima quickly covered her legs and chest, immediately using her dream distortion ability to try to dress herself; the clothing to cover her gradually emerged.
George halted, raising his vigilant blue eyes from below his bucket helmet. His gaze swept over Gima’s body, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.
This pesky pervert is so alert.
Gima tightly covered her chest, remaining completely still.
After observing for a moment, George continued forward, stepping closer to Gima.
Gima could feel her heartbeat through her hand on her left breast; it grew heavier, and her breathing became increasingly labored, excitement tingling within her.
Both thrilling and exhilarating, Gima could not help but bite her lip. It had been a long time since she felt this way; the last time was when she had a secret affair with a human woman, who had a fiancé just a wall away.
But once she realized that her target was weak, even if discovered, there would be no danger, that feeling vanished along with Demon Lord Gima, and the thrill of infidelity lost its flavor. Since then, she no longer sought out affairs.
George was now almost directly beneath her, merely two or three steps away. Gima held her breath, feeling an excitement as if she were about to pull off a grand scheme.
But the next moment, she suddenly realized that even if she was light, she could still bend the branch beneath her. George’s keen observations meant that he would surely notice any disturbance.
Instantly, she felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her.
“Crack.”
George took another step, snapping a twig.
Gima felt suffocated, her heart racing in alarm.
No, I can’t just wait here.
Thinking quickly, Gima flicked her tail toward the observation slit of George’s bucket helmet.
“Slap.”
With a light sound, George raised his hand and caught the slick, flesh-colored tail, his eyes fixed on the incoming object, squeezing the plump tip of the tail.
A tingling sensation spread up her spine.
Gima straightened her waist, seizing the moment George was distracted, and used her dream distortion ability to conjure clothes—a pair of brown shorts and a loose short-sleeve top appeared on her body. She breathed a sigh of relief, looked down, and smiled brightly at George.
Just then, George looked up, their gazes locking.
“Gima?”
Gima waggled her legs, laughing:
“You tail-obsessed pervert, let go of my tail.”
George released her tail, removing his helmet and peering closely at Gima.
“Tsk, look all you want; I’m not wearing a skirt, so no matter how you look at me, I won’t expose myself.”
“I haven’t seen you in a long time.” George’s eyes traveled from Gima’s tail to her face. “You’ve grown a little.”
“This?” Gima pointed at her chest.
“I meant your age,” George replied. “Did you receive the letter I wrote to you?”
“Letter?” Gima said, “You don’t even know my address, how could you write it?”
“I sent it to Jenna’s place. If they know your address, they will forward it to you.”
“So far away, and the messenger still managed to deliver it. Wait…” Gima suddenly realized something. “Who would have thought, you can actually write love letters.”
George’s face flushed slightly, but he remained silent.
“By the way, I bet you’ve also written love letters to Jenna,” Gima remarked. “What a romantic you are.”
George didn’t respond.
Gima chuckled, stretching her right leg clad in black stockings, pointing at George. “Come here, stretch your head over, use it as a step; this is punishment for your indecisiveness and wanting a harem.”
George took a half step forward, removed his funnel-shaped iron gauntlet, and extended his hand as if at a banquet, politely taking Gima’s small foot.
His strong thumb pressed against her instep, his palm firmly supporting her sole.
Gima’s face turned red, her heart racing as she thought George was going to give her a “foot kiss,” and she covered her face, saying:
“You really are very… perverted.”
“Step on my hand.”
Gima laughed lightly, placing her right foot on George’s left hand. His grip was strong and steady like a mountain. She raised her left foot, stepping toward the top of George’s head.
As George’s left hand sank, Gima squealed, losing her balance and falling into his arms, where George’s solid arms caught her in a princess carry.
“Your armor is really clunky.”
Gima said, shrinking into his embrace, sniffing the air filled with a rich peach blossom fragrance. Inhaling it sent a warm sensation down her throat, flowing into her stomach and heart.
George set Gima down, looking at the large SpongeBob on her short sleeve shirt, saying, “Your outfit is really strange.”
“Is it because I’m wearing so little?”
“That is one aspect.”
“Oh, one day I’m going to stretch SpongeBob out. It’s only natural that you find it strange because I just designed this outfit.” Gima said, suddenly covering her face and laughing. “Guess what I’m wearing when I sleep?”
“A hooded cloak, tight pants, and boots?”
“Just a reminder, it’s very improper and not something to wear on the street.” Gima said. “So, to buy myself some dressing time, I used my tail to divert your attention.”
“Sleepwear?”
“Be bolder.”
“Uh… lingerie?”
“Wrong.”
George looked at Gima’s feet planted on the grass, her toes wiggling within the black stockings.
“Long stockings and lingerie?”
Gima laughed, “Half right.”
As she said this, she couldn’t help but cover her face and look away. “It’s just the black stockings.”
Just as she finished speaking, she caught a whiff of the rich peach blossom fragrance.
She was truly full.
