Chapter 214 Chapter 213 A Gentleman understands righteousness, while a petty person understands profit
“That’s right,” Jima said, “but the problem is that George is not strictly a real Bartholomew knight, and the other knights do not know him well. Why should they listen to him?”
“Order.”
After Eve Frostleaf finished speaking, she paused and looked at Jima.
After staring at her for ten seconds, Jima realized that Eve Frostleaf was too lazy to say more and expected her to figure it out.
“I don’t understand.”
“George has reestablished order,” Eve Frostleaf said. “His power comes from this.”
“I understand.” Jima, feeling lazy, asked, “What happens after he becomes the leader of this group of less than a thousand deserters?”
“Then you can display your talents. Your words will be taken seriously instead of being ignored as a breeze.”
Jima found this quite appealing and asked, “Besides making rumors tarnish Tande’s reputation, I don’t need to do anything else, right?”
“Logistics,” Eve Frostleaf explained. “Otherwise, the last glimmer of hope will be extinguished.”
Jima’s enthusiasm was suddenly extinguished.
You want me to exhaust my magic power day and night to serve these people?
Dream on; let this group die if they must. Dying would allow George to focus on how to snatch the demon king’s extraordinary materials mission.
As for winning or losing the entire campaign? Winning would be nice, but Jima wasn’t going to exhaust herself for victory. After all, a victory belonged to the Bartholomew kingdom, and so did a defeat.
Their lives or deaths were none of my business.
Jima shook her head resolutely:
“I think I should stick to my duties as a scout.”
Eve Frostleaf’s green eyes focused on her as she slowly said,
“Logistics includes selling spoils and replenishing military supplies. In this critical moment, no matter how expensive goods are, if they can’t be exchanged for supplies, they are worthless.”
“And you, you are a mobile trading point. The wealthiest place in our elven city is always the trade port because almost all the world’s trade goods circulate there.”
The maritime trade of high elves is renowned in the world, with massive amounts of elven ornaments being exported overseas daily that are unwanted by the elves. To ensure the safety of trade routes, high elves possess a powerful navy that protects these routes while also collecting taxes from merchant ships of other races.
Jima realized Eve Frostleaf’s implication, hinting that she could make a fortune.
Jima immediately felt tempted but thought of George, that fool and scoundrel, who would surely deny her any opportunity to embezzle.
Thus, Jima’s expression remained unchanged, and she didn’t respond.
As if seeing through Jima’s thoughts, Eve Frostleaf continued after staring at her for several seconds:
“The ability to turn unwanted waste into valuable supplies requires skills comparable to turning stone into gold; that is the value of commerce.”
Jima replied, “But many people tend to overlook this point.”
Eve Frostleaf said, “I can persuade George; he will recognize the value of commerce.”
Jima was already feeling tempted but made an effort to restrain her expression and asked, “Oh?”
“I think once some basic supplies are guaranteed, people will pursue a variety of goods,” Eve Frostleaf said, her voice cold but her words filled with interest. “Especially the knights; not every knight can endure black bread and sour wine.”
“Get some milk, sausages, cured meats, and set prices clearly, and the knights will flock to you. You won’t have to scavenge for spoils anymore.”
The last sentence struck Jima’s pain point.
As a platinum-tier warrior, she found herself having to scavenge like a beggar on the battlefield just for money. Is this what a platinum-tier warrior should endure? Isn’t that ridiculous?
A smile blossomed on Jima’s face as she reached out to Eve Frostleaf, saying,
“Alright, I have just the intention; I don’t want to make money off poor people.”
Seeing Jima’s outstretched hand, Eve Frostleaf hesitated for a second before extending her own, gently grasping Jima’s fingers.
“Deal.”
Jima flicked her black hair and smiled, “Looks like Frostleaf doesn’t really like me.”
Eve Frostleaf shut her mouth, falling silent and reverting to her previous icy demeanor.
It seemed that just speaking extensively had exhausted her conversational quota for at least half a year.
On the way back to George’s tent, Jima kept chatting, while Eve Frostleaf remained silent.
Upon returning to the tent, a fatigued George suddenly looked up, spotting the two women. He forced a smile and said, “Have you come to an agreement?”
Eve Frostleaf said, “I persuaded Jima.”
Jima sighed,
“I really didn’t expect Frostleaf to be able to talk so much; every word was filled with profound reasoning.”
George happily said, “Jima, have you decided to help everyone?”
“Yes, but with one condition.” Jima shook her head: “Unless you kick Tande, that flamboyant white rooster, out of the lead position and lead the army yourself, I won’t do it.”
“Why?” George asked, “He is the legitimate leader.”
“Because only you understand my value.” Jima displayed a look of frustration, saying, “I worked hard to scout the enemy’s movements, uncover the nefarious and cunning ambush of Mother of All Beasts, risking my life to bring back valuable intelligence.”
“But what do I get in return? A devastating defeat, and I almost lost my life during the breakout.”
“The knights view the work I do as menial, yet when it comes to merits, I receive none.” Jima showed a look of grievance, touching the corner of her eyes, which turned red and wet. “I clearly possess unparalleled military talent, yet I cannot showcase it… Enough of that.”
“Anyway, George, I don’t want to fight tooth and nail just to face another disastrous defeat.”
George felt for Jima, saying, “In that case, I will apply to Tande for a deputy position. I believe he will heed my advice.”
“George!” Eve Frostleaf suddenly said loudly, “You must become the decisive leader.”
George looked at Eve Frostleaf in surprise, “You think so too? Has Jima persuaded you?”
“No, it was I who persuaded Jima.”
George examined Eve Frostleaf. He and Frostleaf had fought together for nearly two years. In his mind, Eve Frostleaf had always been a pure-hearted, aloof elf, mostly only interested in him.
But he didn’t expect her to care so much about politics.
Eve Frostleaf continued, “I will also teach you how to seize the leadership position.”
George’s blue eyes widened slightly in surprise as he instinctively asked, “Are you really Eve Frostleaf?”
“Yes,” Eve Frostleaf replied coldly, “and I am not a fraudulent Druzhi, foolish human.”
Jima smirked.
It was evident that George had a deep-seated stereotype of high elves, believing that the more civilized high elves were all age without wisdom.
Unbeknownst to him, a thousand years ago, high elves were already exporting operas, novels, poems, and other literary works. In these works, high elves appeared to be downright naive.
Such tactics were what a short-lived race like humans, who barely lived to a hundred, could endure.
Jima possessed three centuries of memories from the demon king Kima and knew some dark history of high elves. For instance, dark elves were a product of internal strife.
When it comes to internal strife, high elves dare to claim the first place, and no one dares to claim second. Eve Frostleaf grew up in the elven royal court, influenced by the surroundings.
George said, “I feel like I am getting to know you all over again.”
Eve Frostleaf countered,
“Don’t you want to save everyone from the clutches of the beasts?”
“But it’s a dangerous time now; everyone should unite rather than fight internally.”
“That’s why we need an excellent leader,” Eve Frostleaf said softly. “George, only you can save them. Tande is nothing more than the second Duke Casson; he lacks Duke Casson’s courage. The knights don’t care about the lives of peasants; they have horses and can escape anytime.”
George hesitated.
He was just a paladin; the training he received in the chapel was all related to supernatural combat, without any connection to leading an army in battle.
When the chapel assigned him tasks, it was the first time he had ever seen the military handbook provided by the chapel.
Eve Frostleaf said, “Do you think you can’t take his place? You are currently unable to exert your abilities to save anyone.”
“I have never doubted that,” George replied. “I only worry about causing unrest among the people.”
Eve Frostleaf pointed at the Casson Duke’s sword, which George placed by his legs, the hilt stained with filthy blood.
“The Duke personally handed the sword to you, and he hopes you won’t disappoint him.”
George tightened his grip on the Duke’s hilt.
Though he was exhausted and weary and fearful for the future, he could only say that he was somewhat knowledgeable about leading an army in battle.
But George believed in himself, that he could lead everyone out from the clutches of beasts as he always had.
“Alright.” The fatigue on George’s face vanished without a trace, “So what’s the first step?”
“First, you rest and wait for the right moment,” Eve Frostleaf said. “I will discuss the plan with you.”
“Okay.”
George lowered his eyelids, and as they touched the surface, his mind jumped abruptly, trying to recall what else had not been done. After going through everything, he realized he had finished his tasks, and the army now had two more platinum-tier warriors to relieve him of concern.
Once his eyes fully closed, in just a few seconds, he fell into a deep sleep, maintaining a kneeling position.
Jima leaned closer, taking a look and whispered, “He’s asleep. Frostleaf, when you go out, tell others not to disturb him.”
That commanding tone….
Eve Frostleaf glanced at Jima and saw that Jima had no intention of standing up.
Jima smiled at her, “I’ll make his bed.”
With that, she wrapped her arms around George’s neck and gently pulled. George inhaled a familiar womanly scent, slightly opened his eyes to see Jima, his body relaxed, obediently lying down with his head resting on Jima’s thigh.
Jima gently closed George’s tired eyes, saying, “Sleep well, smelly little goblin.”
George responded with a low snore.
The air temperature in the tent dropped further, and Eve Frostleaf expressionlessly walked out of the tent, striding quickly.
Minutes later, she returned, still unconvinced, holding a sign that read, in beautiful common language: “Please do not disturb during sleep.”
Below was another line: “For emergencies, please find the elves in the silver tent.”
Tande knight was chatting and drinking with a few loyal knight friends. In times of scarce supplies, his spatial bag filled with liquor became the best tool for winning over people.
He pointed at George’s tent and laughed, “Our paladin and his succubus wife can’t wait after just a few days apart.”
Everyone burst into laughter.
They had no idea that the diligent and uncomplaining George had already made the resolute decision to “seize the position.”
