Chapter 295: Chapter 293: The Skull Seat
Ji Ma couldn’t count how many Norskar people she had slaughtered, but she could hear the voice of the Blood God. Perhaps it was because there were offerings to the Blood God in the sacred urn on the Norskar longship.
Many must have died, yet could this still lead to the Blood God’s blessings?
Though she had her doubts, the great opportunity lay before her, and Ji Ma couldn’t resist. In the end, she ordered “Bald Qiang” to stack the skulls higher and to insert the branch battle axes into the skull seat (constructed from the heads of Blood God’s followers). Then, she distanced herself, fearing that she might receive the Blood God’s blessing.
The blessings of the Four Gods of Darkness were notoriously unreasonable.
The branch axes stood tall on the skull seat, surrounded by a faint mist enveloping the seat and the longship. Light rain began to fall from the sky, obscuring the axes, skulls, and ship.
Ji Ma returned to the whaling ship. She still wore an indifferent expression, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. The originally white gauzy dress was mostly stained with blood, seawater, and some dirt. Her floral headdress was also missing, and behind her, Bald Qiang followed like a loyal dog, strolling across the deck.
It seemed as if the Grim Reaper had worked all day and was now heading home.
The crew feared her; no sailor dared to approach her. Only the captain, feeling the weight of his duty, gathered his courage to step forward. He was certain that Lady Ji was not a fanciful noblewoman born in a secluded mansion, but rather a formidable warrior. Her brutal combat style was likely indicative of a heretic.
“Hello, Lady Ji,” the captain said. “May I ask what you need?”
Ji Ma paused and glanced at him.
The whaling captain immediately regretted his approach, fearing Ji Ma might demand their heads.
“Prepare to return to port.”
“Yes.”
The whaling captain exhaled in relief and turned to leave.
Ji Ma called after him, “Wait.”
The captain, anxious, turned back. He saw Bald Qiang raise a hand behind Ji Ma and toss a bag of burlap to him. He instinctively caught it, his hands trembling.
The bag landed in his arms, making the sound of clinking metal coins.
Ji Ma spoke, “Compensation.”
The captain opened it to find it full of shiny gold coins, but he dared not accept it. If it were copper coins, he would have felt comfortable. He replied:
“By Sigmar’s grace, we had no casualties this time; you’ve given too much.”
“Well, since you say it’s too much,” Ji Ma intended to frighten him, “then asking you for some items as change shouldn’t be unreasonable, right?”
The whaling captain was startled, holding the bag of gold coins as if to return it, forcing a smile as he said:
“Lady Ji, you really don’t need to pay; you already settled the fare when we set out. What comes next is our responsibility, and I must also apologize for not being able to protect you.”
“I said you should accept it, so just take it,” Ji Ma replied with a smile. “You only need to help me gather some spoils of war and bring back some longships to port. I think the shareholders of Marlin City, facing bankruptcy, will be very pleased to hear this good news.”
The whaling captain, relieved, asked, “When will you be returning to port?”
“I’ll give you two days,” Ji Ma said. “Also, take good care of my maid.”
After saying that, Ji Ma shouted to the captain’s cabin, “Xiao Li, come out.”
The door to the captain’s cabin opened.
Li Anxi, with earthy-yellow cat ears, poked her head out timidly while holding a short spear, joyfully saying, “Mistress, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, come here quickly.”
Li Anxi scampered over in delight.
Ji Ma turned to the captain and said, “If you have any questions, ask her. I might be busy for the next few days and not in the room.”
“Of course,” the whaling captain replied, slightly bowing to Li Anxi. “It’s a pleasure to serve you, lady.”
At that moment, the branch axes on the skull seat emitted a burst of red light, shooting into the sky, the crimson spreading across the clouds above.
Ji Ma furrowed her brow; she looked up at the blood clouds, sensing something. “Quick, move all the injured into the ship’s hold. They mustn’t let their wounds touch the rainwater.”
The whaling captain immediately complied, assisting the injured into the cabin.
Before long, blood rain began to fall from the sky. Ji Ma raised an umbrella, and a drop of blood rain landed on her black umbrella, making a sound reminiscent of metal clashing. Countless droplets fell onto the ship and the sea, their sounds intertwining as if she were in the heart of a battlefield.
The last injured man, soaked by a drop of blood rain on his wound, cried out in pain as his injury opened up, blood gushing forth. He fell to the ground from the pain, and his companions quickly dragged him into the cabin.
The blood rain pattered down. Beside them, Bald Qiang in black armor was already drenched, blood trickling down his face and cracked lips, expressionlessly staring at the distant skull seat where the branch axes stood. From within the cabin came quiet prayers to Sigmar.
The blood-red glow from the branch axes dimmed, and the blood rain ceased.
Ji Ma lifted her arm, pointing toward the skull seat on the longship. Bald Qiang sprang into action, clad in heavy armor, swiftly swimming toward the longship to retrieve the branch axes for Ji Ma before returning to board.
The soaked black-armored warrior, embodying the former Demon Lord’s physique, handed Ji Ma the branch axes. As she gripped it, a stronger urge for blood surged within her. It always craved more, completely forgetting it was merely a straight branch.
Ji Ma could feel its power growing more potent and bloodthirsty, and as long as it drank enough blood, it could unleash a blood rain.
Ji Ma had seen similar effects; blood rain could cause wounds to rupture, leading to uncontrollable bleeding and death from excessive blood loss. As for ordinary people who lacked strength, even without wounds, they could bleed out to death in the blood rain.
Moreover, Ji Ma believed that the previous blood rain was not the branch axes’ limit.
She assessed it personally; the Blood God’s blessings suited her character—preying on the weak, reaping the lives of the powerless.
The Blood God truly was generous.
Although she initially found the blessings suspicious, believing she had brought the former Demon Lord’s “body” merely to pick on the weak, the ex-Demon Lord’s abilities were ideal for this task.
If George had come instead, he might have been plagued with headaches, perhaps just taking the chief’s head and stealing back the oysters, as extraordinary individuals like him were better suited for duels amidst the chaos of war, targeting enemy commanders.
But upon reflection, considering the Blood God’s temperament: if there’s blood, he is happy, even if it comes from his own followers. Perhaps he happened to witness the slaughter and felt pleased enough to bestow a blessing.
That was most likely.
People often misunderstand the Blood God, thinking this powerful evil deity must possess high intelligence and be capable of intricate schemes—though not as cunning as the Lord of Deception, he should at least be smarter than an average person. However, from Ji Ma’s experience, this god was truly a straightforward brute, killing anything in sight. Conspiracy? Forget it; just use an axe to chop.
Ji Ma confidently transformed the branch axes back into a branch, stashing it in her dimensional space bag, and returned to the captain’s cabin amid the curious gazes of the crew.
As Bald Qiang’s figure vanished into the air and the door to the captain’s cabin closed, the sailors breathed a sigh of relief. After tending to the injured, they began to collect spoils of war for Ji Ma.
While they worked, they whispered amongst themselves, discussing everything about Ji Ma.
“The Northerners died like chickens.”
“I saw with my own eyes; the Northerners’ heads fell off by themselves. Where do you think that black-armored demon god came from?”
“Must be a demon summoned by Lady Ji.”
“Shh~~ don’t speak its name directly. Old folks say that if someone calls the true name of a devil, it’ll hear.”
“Then what should we call that woman?”
“The Black-Red Sorceress?”
“What a naming level! Call her the Head-Cutting Queen!”
“Worse than my dog’s pee; it should be called the Bloody Demon Messenger!”
“What did you say?”
“Dog pee.”
The sailors began to bicker, some gazing at the skull seat on the longship, feeling envious and wishing they possessed such powerful strength.
No one noticed a crow with four eyes, silently perched atop the mast, watching below.
As for Ji Ma, simultaneously known as the Head-Cutting Queen, the Black-Red Sorceress, and the Bloody Demon Messenger, she returned to the captain’s cabin, opened the entrance to the Dream Palace, and strolled leisurely through the eye of the storm-like entrance.
Upon reaching the Dream Palace, she looked left and right, evaluating the surroundings, and once she confirmed she was alone, she immediately clutched her chest and fell to the ground. A cloud of darkness cushioned her fall. Ji Ma clutched her aching chest and rolled on the ground, completely losing the aura of a skilled warrior she had before. She cried out:
“Ouch! It hurts! Oh my, this is killing me!”
While shouting, she rolled and stuffed painkillers and the like into her mouth. At first, she thought taking too many painkillers would be bad for her body, so after drinking one bottle, she tried to endure it. But after holding on for a full three minutes, she realized that her thoughts for those three minutes were the second most ridiculous and absurd thing in the world.
For the sake of showing off, keeping a straight face in front of others was indeed the most ridiculous thing!
Like a madwoman, Ji Ma continuously guzzled painkillers, leaving a dozen empty glass bottles rolling on the ground until she finished her stock.
Having completely lost “feeling,” when she finally tried to stand up, she felt no pressure at her ankles.
Yet her chest still ached, making her grit her teeth; it wasn’t merely physical pain but a torment of the soul. As the pain reached its peak, tears fell from her eyes, and she said, “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have tried to show off! I shouldn’t use my magic recklessly to kill them! I should have just snatched back the oysters and run! No, no! I don’t want the oysters anymore; I won’t be greedy again.”
She confessed to an imaginary person, resembling a gout patient tormented at night, vowing to adhere to a regular sleep schedule and exercise in the future.
And when the pain from her soul peaked, she could hardly complete a sentence, uttering only two words: “George!”
Finally, Ji Ma held on, the pain ebbing like a tide. She gasped for air, propping herself up, cold sweat trickling down her chin onto the ground.
She recorded the magic threshold that had triggered her soul injury this time.
20%!
Ji Ma sighed; the magic required to command Bald Qiang was considerable. It seemed she couldn’t recklessly use her ultimate weapon in the future. Saving magic where she could would be prudent.
As for the soul injuries, she couldn’t be lazy anymore; she had to start thinking of ways to resolve them.
Even if a complete solution wasn’t possible, at least she needed to find a way to suppress them.
Ji Ma immediately devised a main task for herself, titled “Resolve the Soul Injuries That Deserve a Thousand Cuts.”
Its content was: Although I cannot fully resolve the soul injuries, for now, I at least have ways to suppress them. I need to find Jenna. When she has time to study my soul injuries, it should help ease my affliction.
