Chapter 122: Banquet (Part 2)
Ji Ma had one arm around Saintess Jenna’s, striding confidently down the red carpet with her head held high. The horns emerging from her black hair proudly surveyed the crowd, as she casually handed the invitation to a servant, who was left dumbfounded by her attire.
This wasn’t about displaying approval; it had their names and titles on it.
The servant struggled to tear his gaze away from the enchanting Ji Ma and looked at the invitation, calling out in a loud voice:
“Saintess Jenna and the Wild Mage have arrived.”
Their names echoed through the palace hosting the banquet. Like a command, several men turned away from the entrance. In high society, performance was an essential quality; they acted naturally, but when most men engaged in the same behavior, it appeared deliberate.
A few women weaved through the crowd, calling for the minors to take them outside to the garden to enjoy the autumn blooms.
For a moment, only a dozen or so people in the vast palace turned their eyes toward the two newcomers.
Saintess Jenna felt awkward, as it was her first time at a banquet, and she hadn’t even had a chance to greet her friends.
But the “culprit” Ji Ma was not at all embarrassed; she comforted Jenna, saying:
“Jenna, don’t look down; look how shy everyone is.”
Jenna sighed, “Ji Ma…”
A muffled male voice trying to suppress excitement called out, “Ji Ma!”
Ji Ma turned her head and saw! It was the witch-hunter Arkanis, isolated by the crowd, with no one beside him. No one liked witch-hunters. Arkanis held a goblet in one hand, and the other flailed about like a dog’s tail.
Ji Ma raised her hand gracefully and waved, “Hi! Van Helsing.”
Walker, sitting next to the witch-hunter Arkanis, glanced at him suspiciously; Arkanis’s behavior was indeed far from the witch-hunter image.
Arkanis licked the wine from his lips and, with a rosy flush from the drink, said, “I truly wish I could saw off her beautiful horns and hang them on the wall.”
Walker thought Arkanis had been charmed by the sight and was now tipsy; he remarked, “You should drink less in the future.”
After saying this, Walker glanced at the battle priests nearby, their shiny bald heads reflecting light.
Their eyes were glued to Ji Ma, roaming between her legs and face, only a few of the more composed battle priests tightly held their holy symbols, quietly seeking help from Sigma.
In contrast, Arkanis, the witch-hunter, appeared exceedingly devout, at least he wasn’t swayed by beauty.
“By Sigma!” Walker exclaimed in anger, “You might as well go home and plant potatoes!”
The battle priests quickly averted their eyes, feeling ashamed.
Nearby, a laugh erupted from Brother Ulrich, the White Wolf.
Walker grew even angrier: “This is all false beauty, a demonic illusion. As long as your heart is devout enough, you can resist the innate seduction of succubi. You all should go back and repent to Sigma a hundred times!”
One battle priest spoke up, “Grand Exorcist, it’s not my fault; she just dresses so innovatively.”
“Heh.” Walker scoffed, “It’s only men’s clothing. Look at you folks; in terms of devotion, you are barely better than the Emperor.”
After saying that, he couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Ji Ma. Deep down, he had to admit that the succubus’s tricks were truly effective, with great impact.
Ji Ma wore the same attire as several male guests: white cashmere tight-fitting pants and an appropriately fitted red top. The tight pants perfectly highlighted the curves of her legs, standing out like a shining diamond dropped into coal dust among the attendees who covered their thighs with voluminous skirts and long trousers.
Her black hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail, and combined with her men’s wear, her features had a hint of gallantry.
The noblewomen and young ladies who had tightly clustered near the old matron slowly began to lose their cold indifference.
No beautiful woman could escape Ji Ma’s gaze. She fixed her eyes on the women next to the old matron and smiled at them.
In an instant, the iceberg of prejudice melted away under the scorching sun of the Sahara, dissolving into a small piece of ice at an astonishing speed.
The old matron shot Ji Ma a fierce glare, nearly biting her teeth apart.
What a great act of rebellion, a woman actually wearing pants. This was simply trampling ethics and morality beneath foot and then urinating on it.
Ji Ma ignored the old matron’s piercing look and slowly walked toward the emperor sitting on the throne.
With various unusual occurrences around her, the gentlemen who had turned away could no longer resist their curiosity and pretended to nonchalantly glance at Ji Ma, unable to turn back naturally. Their eyes seemed glued to her like flies to honey.
The originally agreed-upon isolation alliance crumbled like an avalanche.
Having walked halfway, Ji Ma had already become the most eye-catching guest in the hall.
The noblewoman responsible for the psychological health of the minors unhappily tugged at her son’s clothing, saying, “Stop looking. It’s all magical allure; go play together in the back garden.”
“But Dad is watching too.”
The noblewoman angrily went to find her husband, “You liar! Didn’t you say he was a famous playboy? You promised not to be charmed; why do your eyes stay fixed on her?”
The man who originally despised Ji Ma, believing there was no difference between Ji Ma and beasts, now forcibly turned his head, saying, “It’s just a sideshow, merely attention-seeking.”
Still, his eyes involuntarily shifted to the corner, glancing at Ji Ma’s figure.
The husband, who had previously complained that his wife did not trust him, sighed and said, “Dear, the Wild Mage genuinely lives up to the name; I understand now why ancient heroes couldn’t escape the soft traps of succubi.”
“I told you, yet you assured me you wouldn’t be entranced.”
The husband felt increasingly guilty, saying, “Let’s go to the garden and find an opportunity to leave early.”
The wife replied, “Never mind, it’s cold outside, and this banquet is very important. Men like you are simply that way; I don’t blame you.”
The husband felt grateful, embracing his wife, but when he released her, he found her eyes fixated on Ji Ma.
At that moment,
Ji Ma finally climbed the steps and approached the emperor.
The emperor, clad in armor with his mask lifted, revealing a double chin, had the Hammer of Sigma resting on the weapon rack behind him, and the queen stood by his side, holding their son.
Ji Ma and Jenna slightly bowed and said, “It is an honor to attend your majesty’s banquet.”
The emperor replied:
“I am very glad you gave your all in the Battle of Obsidian Pass. Without your bravery, I would never have achieved victory.”
“Your Majesty is being modest.”
The emperor said, “I hope you enjoy yourselves.”
Ji Ma, still with her arm around Jenna’s, moved away and leaned toward Jenna’s ear, whispering:
“See, it’s not as serious as you imagined; what’s wrong with wearing men’s clothing? Powerful transcendents can disregard worldly etiquette to some extent.”
Jenna nodded reluctantly, “The emperor is truly composed; thinking it over, he has the confidence to control the entire banquet and is broad-minded. I underestimated him.”
Ji Ma said, “I think you’re being overly optimistic.”
Because the old matron, dressed as if in mourning, was striding over with an imposing presence, her nostrils flaring with indignation as she gazed at Ji Ma’s men’s attire.
