### Chapter 37: The Dog Licking Competition
Jima and George rode heavenly warhorses and took a boat, bypassing the city gate they entered previously, and left the city.
They rode their horses on the main road, taking a small path leading to the hills outside the city, for a whole hour, entering the mountainous area, with the sandy Forest City, stretching for miles behind them, turning into a sandcastle on the azure coast.
A charred five-story-high dead tree came into view.
George said, “We’re almost there.”
Jima peered over George’s shoulder to take a look and asked, “Are you sure we’re not lost?”
“She said it’s under the charred dead tree,” George lowered his head to glance at the map, “It’s correct on the map; let’s go see.”
Under the dead tree, a small army was stationed, with a dozen tents surrounding it, flags fluttering, and over thirty horses tied nearby. Soldiers dressed in long chainmail were chatting in the camp.
As the two approached on horseback, a sentry holding a spear walked closer and shouted:
“Who goes there? This is a military camp; no trespassers allowed.”
“We are invited by Miss Liss to participate in an adventure,” Jima replied. “May I ask if you’ve seen a group of adventurers?”
“Please come in; the lady said a Knight from Barto would be arriving.”
They passed through the camp and noticed that this small army was well-equipped. The hunters’ dogs were barking, archers were stringing their bows, and servants were bustling about.
“George, are we really here for adventure and not to hunt someone down?” Jima asked.
“It should be.”
“Who is she? She must come from a distinguished background.”
“I don’t know.”
After leaving the camp, they spotted a man and a woman chatting under the shaded grass, with some servants and mules idling down the hill.
As they got closer, Jima realized that rather than chatting, it was more like a lecture.
A young man with red hair was enthusiastically boasting, his physique as sturdy as an upright bull. He wore oversized breastplate armor, which looked battle-worn, full of dents and scratches.
His voice was so loud that even Jima, just emerging from the noisy camp, could hear his bragging.
“… Goblins are very cunning but physically weak. Last time I hunted giants in the North, our party was ambushed by goblins while we were sleeping. They had actually ambushed us under the snow. I stabbed twelve goblins with a dagger and saved our poor guide. But I don’t underestimate goblins. In fact, these little creatures are quite dangerous; do you see these dents on my breastplate?”
The red-haired young man gestured to a dent on his armor.
A carefree poet leaned against the tree. He was slender, holding a lute, with skin as white as snow that girls envied; he glanced and said:
“Looks like—”
Before the poet could finish, or rather, before the red-haired youth gave anyone a chance to respond, he interrupted:
“It was a flying goblin! That little thing slammed into my chest and tried to stab my waist with a knife.”
Miss Liss, with pretty blue eyes, held her face in her hands and listened intently, her eyes wide with curiosity. She inquired, “A new breed? Goblins with wings?”
“Goblins tossed by giants,” the red-haired young man chuckled. “The giants used them as projectiles. Those little monsters, armed with tiny knives and wearing homemade wings, flailed their arms while changing direction in mid-air before crashing into us. The giants threw an entire tribe of goblins down from the cliffs at our party, but I anticipated this. I climbed up the rock face to their height, pushed a large stone down, and smashed the cliffs; the giants and goblins all fell down…”
“That’s truly incredible,” Liss said, “Your adventures sound exciting.”
“Oh, it rivals fairy tales—”
The red-haired youth interrupted again, “In fact, frost giants aren’t the most dangerous; in the north, more fearsome than giants are frost wolves and dark elves that crawl up from underground.”
The poet rolled his eyes, gazing up at the sky, mumbling something.
Jima and George dismounted and were walking up the small hill. Jima held her sword and quietly asked, “George, is he telling the truth?”
“All lies.”
At that moment, the poet spotted the two approaching and immediately stood upright, waving at them with gratitude:
“The brave Knight from Barto has finally arrived! Thank heavens, my ears were nearly stuffed with nonsense.”
Liss, listening to the story, turned around, her chestnut hair swaying behind her slim waist. Spotting George in shiny silver armor, her blue eyes sparkled with light. She jumped to her feet and approached with small, quick steps, the gems in her hair glistening.
She reached George and smiled, “You’ve finally arrived. Let me introduce you; this is a traveling knight from Barto. He is the most courageous and fearless knight I have ever seen. His name is George.”
“May the goddess bless you, greetings,” George said.
The poet scrutinized the two closely and said:
“Oh, you must be the goblin-slayer that Miss Liss mentioned? Allow me to introduce myself; I’m a minor noble from the Deepwater City, temporarily staying here due to Miss Liss’s beauty; just call me Disha.”
The red-haired youth had his boasting interrupted and, seeing Liss being so warm, instantly became jealous. He said, “I’m Strong.”
After saying this, he walked towards George, scrutinizing him with large eyes beneath thick eyebrows and said, “You’re that knight who can kick goblins up to the wall with a single kick?”
Before George could respond, the red-haired Strong turned to Liss and said:
“From my experience, he’ll hold us back; he doesn’t have any adventuring experience. It’s already tough to have a poet who can barely play the lute along.”
The poet Disha snapped his fingers, producing an annoyed sound.
Liss smiled sweetly at George and gently said, “I trust him; talking to him gives me a sense of security.”
That was adding fuel to the fire; it seemed I didn’t even need to intervene.
Jima let her hands naturally drop, giving up on provoking the situation.
Sure enough, the red-haired Strong huffed through his nose and said:
“A fresh newbie, I suppose? Thinking an adventure is like a picnic? You also brought along a warm bed little girl.”
Jima’s small face darkened immediately as she said, “I am a servant.”
“A servant’s job? A little girl can handle that?” The red-haired Strong sneered, “You all think too lightly of adventure, bringing an armored warhorse, donning full armor, and carrying a great sword. Knight, this isn’t for war; you’ll be fighting in narrow goblin caves. Let me teach you about the right weapons; pay close attention, learn well.”
As he spoke, the red-haired Strong rapped on the small shield on his arm and then on the two short swords at his waist, “This kind of weapon is the most suitable for combat in confined caves. I suggest you stay here with the soldiers and wait for our return.”
“My lord has experienced countless battles; using a broad sword is commonplace. The claim that a broad sword is useless in narrow terrain is purely due to the weakness of the user.” Jima, fuming, clutched her sword, smacking the hilt of her great sword, “When the enemy gets close, I can use the lower part of the sword as a short spear with one hand, or crush skulls with the weighted ball on my shoulder.”
As it happened, she was also a master swordswoman.
Liss nodded, saying, “That makes sense.”
“What does that little brat know?”
When I’m chopping people down with a two-handed sword, your mother was still sucking milk.
“I’m not talking to you, so why are you butting in? Mind your manners; George, are you often this silent?”
The poet said, “The shy knight, what a romantic theme.”
A servant? You’re doomed.
Jima took a deep breath.
“Poor George is cursed for too much killing; he can only say 140 words a day.” Liss’s blue eyes sparkled with sympathetic light, “But he’s willing to chat with me using those 140 words.”
In an instant, the pink vortex in the chest of the red-haired Strong expanded from the size of an orange to that of two apples.
George nodded, pointing at himself, “I am the servant; she replies for me.”
“How amusing! Forget it; with my adventure experience, I can handle more than one drag on my team. At least he can block a knife.”
The red-haired Strong felt he had the upper hand and chose to back off to avoid leaving a bad impression on Liss.
Jima glanced at George and saw his indifferent expression, unaffected by it at all.
Truly Zen.
As the saying goes, a clap cannot be made with one hand. As long as George remains this Zen, there will be no good show for me to watch. I couldn’t let my hard-earned money be wasted on a bad vibe, nor could I let Strong, the boasting king, embarrass himself.
Warm bed? Your entire family’s women are warm beds; they don’t know their place, messing around like sorcerers with swords.
“Alright, let’s start the adventure.”
Liss smiled, and the earlier quarrel did not affect her at all. Jima could tell that Liss seemed even happier, her eyes had been shining brightly.
“Next time, be on time, newbie.” The red-haired Strong patted George’s shoulder armor, “It’s fine to be a newbie, but always maintain a good attitude, got it? If noon is set for twelve, then you must arrive early. Just remember what I say next.”
“I wasn’t late,” George said.
As soon as the words fell, a long bell chimed from the distant Sandy Forest City.
“One, two, three… twelve. Ha, our knight in a tin can is exceptionally punctual.” The poet Disha strummed out a pleasant and simple tune.
The red-haired Strong shot a glance at the poet and said nothing.
The host of this adventure, Liss said:
“Alright everyone, I’m very glad you could take the time to join me for this adventure game.” At this point, Liss’s eyes sparkled with delight.
“Recently, Sandy Forest City is holding a grand banquet to celebrate the Rainbow Festival, and my family was fortunate enough to receive an invitation to one of the banquets. My mother told me that I could invite a few good friends to attend with me. I thought, a friend who can give me a joyful experience during the adventure must be a good friend, even if I’ve only known them for a few days.”
Tch, isn’t this just hinting that the three dog lickers need to step up their game? Do you think you are worthy?
Jima kicked a small stone.
“As for what the banquet is, that’s a secret,” Liss smiled with mischief in her eyes and pointed at the red-haired Strong, “Strong, you must absolutely not tell.”
“Of course~.”
The poet Disha sighed, “In poetry, childhood sweethearts can never be together.”
The so-called childhood cannot compete with spontaneous fate, but be wary of falling for dead virgins; you’ll end up living life as a widow.
Jima was even more displeased, glaring at Liss’s beautiful face and her graceful waistline.
If Jima were to say, it would be worse than having the harem destroyed and becoming a slave to an enemy: following a dead virgin and watching him enjoy a string of romantic encounters.
“Everyone, get ready; we’re about to set off.”
“My lord, I’ll just stay in the camp as your logistics personnel and wait for you all.”
George nodded.
“By the way, little sister, you should come along too.”
Jima, about to leave, pointed to her own nose in surprise.
Liss nodded, “Yes.”
