Chapter 276 Second Chapter Seventy-Four: The Unescapable Past (Part Two)
Jima fell beside the Mother of Beasts, Vichina, who was engulfed in flames.
Her body was charred yellow, but this beauty desperately used the last of her life force to enhance her facial rejuvenation efficiency, so her face remained porcelain white, as if it were porcelain burned in flames.
Jima asked with a grin, “Do you have any last words?”
The Mother of Beasts looked at Jima with her azure eyes and said, “I understand now.”
Jima couldn’t help but grip the handle of her “branch axe gun” tightly.
In the flames, she bitterly smiled and said, “I miscalculated; who would have thought that the notorious lecherous demon king could turn into a succubus just to survive?”
Jima’s smile froze. She raised the branch axe gun, the tip aimed at the Mother of Beasts: “You talk too much.”
“Please,” the Mother of Beasts begged, “whatever you do, don’t harm George. He’s a good boy and has been good to you…”
Out of the corner of Jima’s eye, she caught sight of half-beast George, who was madly roaring like a beast on his way toward her, slaughtering beastmen in his path. She felt a sudden panic in her heart, fearing that the Mother of Beasts would cause some trouble, and immediately exerted all her strength, driving the gun tip straight through the Mother of Beasts’ mouth.
The Mother of Beasts trembled; her face rapidly turned charred yellow. Jima, not yet reassured, swung the axe gun forcefully, the blade cleaving through her charred head. Flames surged, and the charred corpse turned into a pile of fragments, as the flames slowly extinguished, leaving only a heap of smoldering ashes.
Jima turned her head to look in George’s direction. He was slaughtering his way here, and few beastmen dared to block him—not only because he was covered in blood, making it obvious he was not to be trifled with, but more importantly, he looked like a rampaging, monstrous minotaur.
In fact, those beastmen who had discarded their armor were kind enough to shout at him:
“You’re heading the wrong way; the forest is over there.”
Half-beast George slashed and killed indiscriminately, and the surrounding beasts viewed him as if he were mad, scattering like frightened birds.
When George reached Jima’s side, his eyes were bloodshot as he raised a massive golden sword. The sword was filthy and stained black; blood had soaked into the blade, flames had dried the blood, and more fresh blood splattered on it, turning it into a stubborn and dirty mess that covered the gem on the grip and the pale golden blade, making it look like a beastman’s weapon.
Jima turned to him.
Half-beast George recognized Jima, and the sword froze in mid-air.
George’s current appearance, like his massive golden sword, was unrecognizable. Just a few days prior, he had been a noble paladin, a knight whose fame echoed throughout the nation, clad in silver armor and riding a handsome white horse.
Now he wore no solid and imposing armor, his skin was covered in coarse brown fur, stained red with blood, and he smelled horrendous. His deformed skull bore two horns, one long and one short, and he wore only a pair of underwear.
In contrast, Jima, who had traveled through the Mother of Beasts Vichina’s body, didn’t seem as disheveled. She was merely splattered with amniotic fluid, looking clean and youthful, her golden eyes captivating.
Everyone who saw them would immediately think of the five words: “Beauty and the Beast.”
Half-beast George stuttered, “Jima… Jima?”
“It’s me, Jima. Don’t you recognize me, George?” Jima didn’t know why, but her eyes grew misty as she put down the axe gun. “I’m still alive, and I even helped kill the Mother of Beasts.”
George gradually lowered his weapon and asked, “What… what do I look like now?”
“A tall, valiant, wild, handsome guy,” Jima said. “Even if the queen comes, she’ll have a hard time closing her mouth when she sees you.”
“You’re lying.”
“The situation is okay; you haven’t lost control yet,” Jima said as she stepped forward, unable to resist reaching out to touch his furry chest, which felt tough and coarse, not much different from a beastman’s.
“Don’t touch me!”
Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she couldn’t say a word.
“The Mother of Beasts, my mother… what happened to her?”
“The woman who turned you into this ghastly creature is dead, and she’s now just a pile of ashes.”
A sharp pain shot through George’s head again. He clutched his head with both hands and said, “Get away, I feel like I can’t hold on any longer.”
“What are you afraid of? We’ve been through tougher times,” Jima encouraged. “Come on, give me a hug. Bend down; I want to touch your fuzzy head.”
George lowered his head, and Jima almost didn’t recognize his skull, as it was severely deformed. Only by looking closely could she barely make out a hint of George’s former appearance. She stretched out her arms and gently hugged his head.
“Don’t be afraid, George. I’m still here; I don’t mind you. Are you still worried about not being able to marry?”
George’s contorted features gradually relaxed, fur began to fall off, and his massive body slowly shrank. The influence and distortion from the Mother of Beasts faded away with her death, while George’s will remained steadfast.
After about ten minutes, a bare George appeared before Jima. He looked weak and shaky, unable to stand, with a pile of fur at his feet.
Jima supported him and walked a few steps. Seeing George’s frail state, she said, “Why don’t you lie on my lap for a rest?”
George’s consciousness was somewhat blurred: “We’re still fighting.”
“It’s okay,” Jima reassured. “It’s my turn to protect you now; I have that ability.”
George slowly lay down, resting his head on Jima’s lap.
“Come and take your medicine.” Jima took out a vial and brought it to his mouth.
It took George a full minute to finish drinking, then he asked, “What… what do I look like now?”
“You still have one horn, your skull isn’t as symmetrical as before, you have some fur left, and at a glance, you look human, but upon closer inspection, there are many signs of mutation. If a witch hunter sees you in the empire, you’ll likely end up on the pyre.”
George said, “That’s my limit.”
Jima sighed, “You should feel lucky. I haven’t abandoned you; I consider you like a son. Just think about it; you’ve turned out like this, ugly as can be, and yet you have a great beauty who’s by your side without leaving…”
“Now hurry up and give me a smile.”
George’s lips twitched, but he ultimately couldn’t manage a smile.
“Humorless person,” Jima said, playfully using her fingers to lift the corners of George’s mouth into a big grin. “That’s more like it; if you could shed a few grateful tears, that would be even better.”
Jima released her hand.
George lay on her lap, and after a few minutes, he said, “Thank you, Jima.”
Jima pressed on his temple with a firm push until it finally subsided: “You need to rest well now.”
“Mm.”
A few minutes later, George said, “Can you stop pressing on my temple? It hurts a lot.”
“Oh, you should have said so earlier.”
And so, amidst the battlefield, with the sounds of killing surrounding them, George closed his eyes and began to rest.
The beastmen’s army began to collapse with the death of the Mother of Beasts. King Richard the Lionheart swiftly seized the opportunity, launching a counterattack that accelerated the beastmen’s collapse.
There were slaughtering sounds and fleeing beastmen everywhere.
However, under the protection of Jima’s “Silent Hidden Barrier,” George’s rest went undisturbed. Some beastmen accidentally stumbled into the barrier, but Jima only needed to look at them with her golden eyes to send them away.
In the midst of the chaos and violence of the battlefield, this small slice of peace and tranquility sheltered Jima and George.
Until the sound of horse hooves and bugles from the knights approached, breaking this little peace, George suddenly opened his eyes, his hand reaching to his head, feeling the horn.
He instinctively tried to twist it off, and Jima reminded him, “It’s no use; if you break it, another one will just grow back. It’s already part of your body.”
