Chapter 47: Manipulation
Jima quickly gathered her spirits.
The task assigned to this holy army had long surpassed their capabilities. And these tasks were all brought on by Jima herself.
This mission to eliminate the beastman war gang, strictly speaking, was the lake goddess settling scores with Jima, with Jima conveniently dragging the holy army into the mix. If the holy army decided to walk away, she would have no way to stop them.
It was crucial to persuade George to get his men to fight for her.
It was time to test her ability to weave a story; she couldn’t afford to mess up like she did last time while pretending to be the “Black Devil.”
“System, open the draft I just wrote.”
After mentally invoking the command, a large expanse of translucent text appeared before her, visible only to her. Jima tilted her head slightly, repositioning the text to cover George’s face, making it seem as though she was looking directly into his eyes, which appeared particularly sincere.
The first sentence of the draft she wrote that morning summarized: “Foolish interpretation of righteousness.”
She had to approach it from the perspective of great righteousness.
“This morning, our army arrived at a village where the beastmen slaughtered its inhabitants. To call it slaughter is not entirely accurate; it should be referred to as ‘feeding,'” Jima said, walking side by side with George towards the palace. “They hung the uneaten corpses on the doorways to disguise the traps hidden behind them…”
“They are cunning beastmen. Today’s battle was the same; they knew we targeted the centaur beasts, using a few as bait to lure us into a trap.” George said, taking off his helmet and tucking it under his arm. “They failed because Frostleaf froze the bait centaur’s legs.”
Without looking at Eve Frostleaf, Jima continued:
“In the center of the village stood an ancient tree, with swings hanging from its branches. Usually, the village children would play in the shade of the old tree, laughing and swinging. Upon reaching the village center, we found a bundle of bones tied to the swing ropes, picked clean and bleached, all belonging to children.”
George remained silent, his expression sorrowful.
“On the dining table used by the villagers, there lay the corpses of the villagers, surrounded by heaps of leftover bones. In the church, there was the corpse of an old soldier. I entered the dreams of the beastmen and knew he was a hero; after the village fell, he fought to the last. Before dying, he killed a few beastmen, losing an arm, and bit the throat of a mongrel beast with his teeth…”
Jima began to exaggerate the bravery of the old soldier, “The beastmen were furious. They first struck his corpse with several axes, then hung him on the statue of the lake goddess, devouring his thighs, and smashed the statue’s head. They believed it was the lake goddess who gave him the courage to resist.”
“Truly a hero,” George sighed. “Humanity has survived to this day because of the sacrifices made by heroes.”
“The lake goddess could not accept this insult, so when I entered the church, the Holy Grail erupted with water, granting us blessings and calling us to administer justice for the villagers, of course through sword and extraordinary abilities.”
George instinctively cast a doubtful glance at Jima.
Jima knew that in George’s mind, she was seen as a hopelessly selfish individual, the kind who only cared about her wellbeing, regardless of others’ fates. Of course, she didn’t see anything wrong with that.
In anticipation of this situation, Jima had already prepared herself. She focused on the floating Chinese characters, reciting them bit by bit:
“To be honest, after receiving this task, I felt very uncomfortable. The actions of the beastmen were disgusting, but asking me to battle them is overly demanding. The beastman war gang consists of more than a thousand beasts; the lives of the villagers matter, but so do mine. I do not wish to risk my life fighting against the beastman war gang.”
“So, George, do you have any way to talk to the God of Dawn and request the lake goddess to send more manpower? We could sit this one out; our current strength would require too much of our soldiers’ blood to eradicate the beastman war gang.”
George shook his head: “The lake goddess has limited options, and there hasn’t been any word of a Holy Grail guardian nearby. The only human military force is us.”
Jima stepped over the threshold of the palace: “Then we’ll have to consider this carefully.”
“No, I intend to seek justice,” George said. “Such crimes against humanity must be punished.”
“Many soldiers are looking forward to returning home to marry and have children.”
“We fight for those who cannot fight,” George replied. “Eliminating this group of beastmen means more villages and more people can safely marry and have children without worrying that one day their children will be hung on swing ropes to be eaten by beastmen.”
“I knew you would say that.” Jima wore a helpless expression but laughed inwardly. “I can only reluctantly lend you some effort, but beware, if things go south, I will bail.”
George said seriously: “No, I want you to go all out.”
“No.” Jima sat on the sofa in the palace’s living room. “You still owe me a favor.”
“This is a deal.” George placed his helmet on the table and said seriously, “The holy army helps you obtain the necessary items for promotion; you must wholeheartedly assist the holy army, as agreed.”
“But didn’t we only agree that I would help you find the demon lord’s extraordinary materials?” Jima reminded him. “This was your original task. If you lose troops, what will you have left to secure the demon lord’s extraordinary materials? The holy army is not supporting you. If you do not achieve great merit, the holy army will not support you in regaining your strength, and you might remain stuck at Platinum for a lifetime.”
“I won’t.” George was very confident. “At worst, it might be delayed. If I miss this opportunity for justice because of delay, what kind of holy knight would I be? Moreover, to be serious, we still owe the lake goddess for a group of people. Remember the last time we were besieged by the green skins? If that group of gallant knights hadn’t arrived, we might have had to flee shamefully.”
“I knew you would say that.” Jima said, “As long as I can reach Platinum, I promise to go all out for you.”
Perfect!
She had managed to persuade George to help her out of trouble while ensuring her promotion.
Jima felt great. After speaking, she propped her chin on her hand, tilted her head to look at George, her tail on the table, playing with it while smelling the faint scent of peach blossoms in the air, and said ambiguously:
“Then you must recover well. If your strength remains stuck at Platinum and you can never progress further until you die, you will lose so much…”
As she said this, Jima glanced at the two nearby, making a concerted effort to observe Frostleaf, who was trying to join the conversation but had no idea how to contribute. She extended her tongue, gently licking the tip of her tail,
“Being unable to break through Platinum means life cannot undergo a qualitative change; you won’t be able to remain youthful or significantly extend your lifespan. By the time you grow old, bald, your belly fattening, and wrinkles appearing on your face, beautiful women will have left you. At that point, I wonder if you will still yearn for your once vibrant self or resent your younger self for being such a fool.”
Eve Frostleaf finally found an opportunity to interject, saying, “George, we will always be friends, no matter how old you are.”
“As far as I know, many elves prefer human lovers because after only a short time with humans, humans can’t help but make lifelong vows, full of passion and unrealistic fantasies about elves. They seem to believe that in just a few months, an elf will love a person for a lifetime, sacrificing several centuries of emotional life for them.”
Jima said: “Little do they know, in the eyes of long-lived elves, eternal love is a childish joke; this kind of sentiment is not popular among elves. Once humans grow old and lose their passion, they cannot accept the aging bodies of their lovers and choose to walk away.”
Eve Frostleaf coldly responded, “I am not you.”
“A young one who’s never tested by love should refrain from making sweeping declarations.”
“You’re only a year and a half old; before me, you’re merely a baby.”
“I have thousands of years of inherited memories.” Jima glanced at George and Eve Frostleaf. “If we only look at physical age, aren’t you being a pedophile? A child driving a big car?”
Eve Frostleaf found herself at a loss for how to retort, letting out a cold huff to show her disdain for engaging in arguments with Jima.
“Ahem.” George cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “Jima, you’re generalizing. Isn’t there a book where elves accompany their human partners’ graves until they themselves die of old age? It even became a drama.”
“That book, if I recall correctly, was authored by a human who hasn’t seen a single elf, right? He couldn’t even tell the difference between high elves and wood elves.”
Eve Frostleaf coldly protested, “Succubus, don’t presumptively use the word ‘only’ to describe us high elves.”
“But this drama has been passed down for three or four centuries; it’s a classic.”
“That it’s popular among humans is only natural, because this work caters to humans’ pursuits of love, both as a lifelong commitment of two people.” Jima said, “Simply being infatuated isn’t enough; one must also endure a life of devotion. The longer one endures this life of devotion, the more infatuated and intense it becomes. And when it comes to enduring a life of devotion, who can do it longer than elves? On top of that, elves are beautiful and retain their youth; what better ‘partner’ could there be for a human male to endure decades of unrequited love? It only serves to show how charming human males are. Many audiences watch and insert themselves into it, feeling an inner satisfaction. So have you noticed that this genre mainly features elven females with human males?”
George reflected for a moment and realized that the tales passed down indeed followed this pattern, but he shook his head and said, “Jima, your conjecture is too dark; there is no real evidence.”
“There is evidence, Sister Frostleaf.” Jima looked at the silver-haired elf and asked, “You elves must have a lot of dramas, right?”
Frostleaf initially didn’t want to respond but couldn’t help but nod: “The vast majority of theatrical theoretical knowledge in humans is derived from us elves.”
“Is there any drama depicting elven females enduring a life of devotion for human males?”
“No.”
Jima turned to George and said:
“The pursuit of love is a desire shared by every civilized race; everyone hopes for beautiful things to remain unchanged. However, the dramas that glorify love through devotion are not favored by elves and only flourish among humans. This is because humans project their hopeless fantasies about love onto the elven race and foolishly believe that an elf who spends one or two years together will senselessly invest centuries or even millennia into it.”
Despite Eve Frostleaf agreeing inwardly with Jima’s critique of those dramas—all featuring elven females enduring a life of devotion for human males—she felt that Jima was obviously mocking her, trying to sow discord, and her jealousy was overwhelming, making her say:
“When it comes to fidelity in love, I’m sorry, but elves are the best in the world.”
“I heard the first elven king married a second wife after his first wife died,” Jima said. “It seems that after the elven king died, his wife had many, many lovers.”
Eve Frostleaf gritted her teeth, saying, “She betrayed Asul, divided the high elves, and became a dark elf.”
“Remember that according to elven law, elven queens must marry elven kings to give birth to eternal daughters, regardless of whether there is love between them.” Jima said, “This has broken up many lovers; sometimes the eternal daughters have no relation to the elven kings.”
Eve Frostleaf suddenly stood up, turned, and walked away.
