Chapter 36: Very Angry, Very Serious
The morning light fell on the white flag planted in the heap of beastman corpses. As the morning wind blew, the flag billowed and unfolded, with the inscription: “To the creatures that mimic bipedal humans, your lord will lock you in a sheepfold. We are heading east; come if you dare.”
The Great Horned Beast stared at the vile words on the flag with a patch of white, its nostrils flaring in anger.
Humans always mistakenly believe themselves to be clever, thinking beastmen are dumb, not much smarter than the pigs in a sty. Little do they know, they are merely food for the beastmen, not much different from the wild rabbits in the forest—just a group of rabbits that can pile up stones and live within them.
If it weren’t for a human with a golden hammer emerging during ancient times to slaughter beastmen indiscriminately, humans would still be prey in the forest, mere livestock for the beastmen.
“Woof woof woof!”
A group of war dogs, half the height of an adult man, rushed over under the lead of a beast tamer. These war dogs, with jaws capable of biting off a human head, always dripped with a light green saliva; anyone bitten would be paralyzed on the spot, and healing from the wound would be impossible.
These vicious dogs, accustomed to mauling the living, behaved obediently before the Great Horned Beast, squatting down and wagging their tails fervently. Their bellies were flat from hunger.
The tamer with the whip came over.
The Great Horned Beast, a patch of white, asked, “Have they picked up the scent heading east?”
“No.”
“Foolish humans,” the Great Horned Beast suddenly roared, rushing up to the pile of corpses, seizing the Sanctuary’s battle flag, twisting it fiercely until it broke into three or four pieces, tossing them to the ground. It then bellowed to the beast horde beneath the pile of corpses, “Hiss hiss roar!”
No need for more words; anger and hatred were all expressed in the roar.
Thousands of beastmen raised their heads, lifted their weapons, and roared loudly, startling birds to fly out from the forest.
The Great Horned Beast took down the provocative white cloth left by Jima, saying, “This thing, I will toss it on the bodies of those humans.”
Having said that, it jumped down from the pile of corpses and pointed at the corpse pile behind the war dogs, commanding, “We are going hunting!”
The war dogs grew excited, jumping up and charging toward the pile of corpses to feed on them. In their simple minds, hunting meant fresh meat. The war dogs were adept at pursuit; even if a fleeing soldier were fortunate enough to escape the battlefield, the war dogs would follow the beastmen’s trail. At that point, to reward them, beastmen would allow the war dogs to feast.
“Set off! Fight until death!”
The Great Horned Beast raised its battle axe and led the way, its neck adorned with a four-leaf clover necklace that fluttered as it moved. It led a large group of beasts, with the well-fed war dogs at the forefront, toward the direction of the Sanctuary army.
This scene was frozen in a basin of water.
A pale finger broke the water’s surface, and the image vanished.
“And that’s what happened,” Jima said, pulling down the black cloth used for shading. “No matter how well the tracks are concealed, they can’t fool a dog’s nose; the scent of over a hundred men is too strong.”
“There’s still a two-day journey to withered wood mountain,” George said. “What’s at withered wood mountain? Have you divined it?”
“I have divined it,” Jima’s golden eyes sparkled with desire. “There seems to be a beastman shaman there; I believe the key item for separating the extraordinary material is with him.”
“So there must also be a beastman warband there.”
Jima gazed into George’s eyes and said, “You promised me, you made a vow.”
“I will definitely accompany you,” George said. “But if the beastman warband can’t be shaken off, the army is bound to be doomed.”
Jima knew George wouldn’t sacrifice over a hundred soldiers for her sake, throwing them into the jaws of the beastmen.
“Bait,” Jima pointed at George, “we are outnumbered, but our advantage lies in our extraordinary individuals, capable of overwhelming one of theirs. Do you have confidence in taking the head of that patch of white?”
“Definitely.”
“Good, then you can assault their entire army,” Jima said. “With my divination, you can ambush them on their route; when the beastman warband passes, charge up, kill them, and when they try to encircle you, strategically retreat. If they chase after you, all the better. Those who can catch up to you can’t defeat you. As long as you’re not delayed, the whole warband will be worn out because of you.”
This tactic was familiar to George. While powerful individuals often can’t single-handedly form an army to confront troops, they can continuously harass the army due to their strength. Such hit-and-run tactics occupy significant sections in various military texts.
George had an advantage in this regard; his stamina wouldn’t deplete, allowing him to maintain “strategic relocation” indefinitely.
“I can focus on targeting their cavalry and war hounds, thereby increasing the chance of our army escaping since they would be left without mobile units,” George said, “but there is one flaw; I won’t be able to rest.”
Even if the beastmen who could catch up to George couldn’t defeat him, they could roar nearby and look for an opportunity to strike. If George dared to sleep, a fate of being surrounded by beastmen awaited him.
“Right, even if you shake them off, it would only be temporary; the war dogs can always find you,” Jima said. “But if you can shake them off for half an hour, manage your scent and enter dreamland, you will get an incredibly comfortable rest…”
Jima worried George might be unwilling, continuing with promises: “Stay in a large palace, sleep in a big bed, bathe in a large bath, and have beautiful dark-haired maids provide intimate service 24/7, along with world-class chefs cooking for you. Even a demon lord would never have it better.”
“Alright, alright, you don’t need to say so much,” George said. “As long as I can get sufficient rest.”
“However, you must promise me that there are certain private areas you can’t just wander into.”
“Okay,” George said, “but we should hold a meeting later; maybe everyone can discuss and come up with a better idea.”
Twenty minutes later.
George’s tent was once again filled with people: the army’s priest, soldiers, George, Jima, Eve Frostleaf, and her maid.
After Jima used the “Tranquil Secrecy” spell to muffle the sounds in the area, the meeting officially began.
After George briefly introduced the difficulties they were facing.
The soldiers’ expressions changed, Eve Frostleaf remained expressionless, and the army priest…
Jima glanced at the army priest, who wore a face that seemed to say he had already anticipated everything, calm and composed, without uttering his usual phrase, “Our army is doomed.”
When a person has no hopes, they naturally won’t be disappointed or despairing.
After George explained the response plan, a soldier raised his hand and said:
“Commander, I have an idea. Our entire army could hide in the dream palace of the succubus Jima.”
Upon hearing that a hundred or so men wanted to stay in her home, Jima shook her head vigorously: “No way!”
How could my harem be tainted by a bunch of stinking men?
Everyone looked at Jima.
Jima spoke, “As the numbers increase, the magic power consumed also intensifies; we can only hide for three to four hours at most.”
Having said that, she suddenly thought of the biggest flaw in this idea:
“However, there is one major issue; when the dream palace pulls someone in, it leaves an exit at the original location. Although the enemy can’t enter, they can attack it, shaking the palace. We could hide one dream palace exit, but over a hundred exits cannot be concealed.”
George added, “If we can only hide for a short time, when the army comes out, the beastman warband won’t have gone far.”
In the end, they settled on the harassment plan.
Jima looked around and said, “Then it’s decided.”
Eve Frostleaf, who had been silent, raised her hand and said, “I can fight alongside George.”
For the fragrant beauty to voluntarily request to stay in her harem, Jima was all too eager and nodded vigorously.
The elf maid blurted out, “No!”
Now, everyone turned their attention to the elf maid.
“I see that George can summon horses anytime he can escape, right?” the elf maid said. “Lady Frostleaf lacks both escape ability and experience; she has also been cursed by the wicked demon lord, making it impossible for her arrows to hit their targets, severely reducing her combat effectiveness. Lady Frostleaf, please don’t force yourself; I promised Her Majesty the Queen to ensure your safe return to the civilized world.”
“Beastmen are no big deal,” Eve Frostleaf said calmly. “No need for a bow; I have my legs.”
At that moment, the elf’s long legs carried an unarguable persuasive power.
Despite the elf maid’s repeated pleas and her unfriendly glares toward George, in the end, the arms couldn’t defeat the thighs, and Eve Frostleaf joined George in the harassment operation while Jima was responsible for providing intel and rest areas.
“If possible, it would be best if the army could pass through a village destroyed by the beastmen,” George said. “It would be great to collect evidence of their crimes; I can punish the beasts.”
“Okay, I’ll try to consider that,” Jima, staying with the army, spoke like a commander. She turned her head, her tail held high, and greeted Eve Frostleaf warmly, saying, “Sister Frostleaf, see you in the palace tonight.”
Eve Frostleaf nodded.
After confirming the battle plan, Jima performed another divination, determining the general location of the beastman warband on the map. After both sides discussed the potential paths the beastman warband might take.
George rode the celestial war horse, taking Eve Frostleaf with him as they left the military camp.
The elf maid watched their departing figures, murmuring in elvish a mix of curses and complaints, fearing that if they took a wrong turn, George would unleash his wrath and desecrate Eve Frostleaf.
She looked at the black-haired succubus with an idea forming in her mind and walked over to Jima, quietly asking, “Please forgive my abruptness, Miss Jima; do you really only wish to forever be a nameless lover, watching from afar?”
Jima narrowed her eyes, glancing at the elf maid with a smile, “Of course not.”
“Her Majesty the Queen wishes the best for Lady Frostleaf; she does not want her to marry a lowly—human,” the elf maid whispered. “Do you understand what I mean?”
“I have met Her Majesty the Queen; she is kind, polite, and carries the authority of a superior, yet is also a loving mother. I quite like her.”
The elf maid said, “Naturally, we can cooperate to create opportunities for you to interact with George, reducing the time he spends with Lady Frostleaf. This evening in the palace—”
“I understand,” Jima said, “so tell me about Frostleaf; knowing ourselves and the enemy will enable us to strike with precision.”
The elf maid grew increasingly satisfied, feeling she had found the right ally.
Jima smiled happily and turned to the soldiers, saying, “Let the army march.”
The two chatted merrily along the way, with the elf maid revealing all the details about Eve Frostleaf, while Jima listened with a smile, making notes in her system and sincerely saying, “You are indeed a good maid.”
“Of course, I am the most trusted by Her Majesty the Queen.”
