Chapter 2 Second Chapter The Former Brave Man George (6000 words)
The Sacred Hall of the White City.
The rising sun cast a pale golden light through the stained glass of the Judgment Hall, which fell upon the emblem of the deity hanging on the wall.
Under the emblem, three red-robed archbishops wearing brass masks sat at a long table. Their eyes were fixed on George, who sat upright below.
George wore a simple linen shirt and sat up straight. At this moment, he showed no signs of being a beastman; his skull was well-formed, and there were no traces of horns.
The thin red-robed archbishop on the far left said, “Paladin George, your recovery is remarkable. The therapist believes that your will is strong and your faith is devout, which has allowed you to reverse the effects of your unclean bloodline…”
George held his breath, listening to the unfolding words.
“After discussion, we have decided to restore your privileges and personal freedom. However, your past will be made public; everyone will know what you once were. Do you have any objections?”
“No,” George replied. “Others have the right to know.”
“Good.”
“Not good,” said the plump red-robed archbishop on the far right. “I must say, I oppose this proposal, but there’s nothing to be done. In recent years, the sacred hall has lost many devout and steadfast warriors in the struggle against evil.”
George said, “My performance can prove myself.”
The plump red-robed archbishop replied, “But I will never trust you, Brother George.”
“I never intended to prove myself to you,” George asserted. “There are many who are hostile towards me; you are not the only one.”
“There are contradictions; do not argue here,” said the red-robed archbishop in the middle. “I suggest we resolve this at the arena, settling it through direct combat with a few exchanges.”
The plump red-robed archbishop asked, “Blood God corruption?”
“Are you possessed by the demon?”
Due to the long-standing culture of honesty in an environment where lies cannot be told, even high-ranking officials tended to voice their conflicts directly.
George interrupted the usual quarrel between the archbishops and asked:
“I have a question: what is my security level assessed as?”
“Level two.”
George’s heart sank. This indicated something very unfortunate; a person assessed as level two had no qualification to wield the Holy Sword.
He asked, “Who do you plan to get the Holy Sword from?”
“George, the sacred hall does not have only you as a genius; the hero does not solely belong to you.” The plump red-robed archbishop said, “We plan for Beo to wield the Holy Sword and become the new generation of heroes. He has already passed the tests. Whether in strength or faith, he can shoulder the responsibilities of a hero.”
George felt as if he had just taken a punch to the face, a deep sense of defeat surged within him. When he realized that his dream was hopeless, he was not as composed as he had imagined.
Fortunately, compared to knowing that his mother was the Mother of Beasts, this small defeat only made him feel uncomfortable for a while.
He asked, “Why? I find it hard to understand.”
“When you defeated him and received the title of hero, he asked the same question.” The thin red-robed archbishop said, “This is nothing, Brother George. It’s not only heroes who can fight for fairness and justice.”
“George, you are overconfident.” The plump red-robed archbishop snorted coldly. “He made a vow of chastity at the age of ten and has stuck to it ever since. His heart is as unyielding as a rock; he is not swayed by beauty, and seduction is futile against him. Meanwhile, he has progressed steadily, participated in the blood battle at the Nune River against the beastmen, and just recently eliminated an underground cult. Now he has also advanced to diamond level.”
“I know you are unhappy because, according to reports, you may have a breakthrough soon, becoming the youngest Master of the Extraordinary in history. But young people always believe that strength is paramount. In terms of stability, what qualifications do you have to compare with him, George?”
“You have a deep entanglement with the succubus Chima, who is an evil demon and may very likely become your enemy in the future. None of us believe you have the resolve to cleanse her. You may think of it as love, but I would say it is addiction to female beauty.”
“Now, reflecting on your motives for sheltering her back then. Without a doubt, aside from liking her, you empathized with her plight because you are not pure human. You do not want to be discriminated against due to your bloodline, so you ignored the issue of justice.”
George stood up, pressed his hands firmly against the table, and asked, “Can I take it that, esteemed archbishops, you still harbor doubts about my bloodline?”
The thin red-robed archbishop comforted him:
“We acknowledge your will and faith, but bloodline is also among our considerations. In the face of the corrupting power of the Dark God, you are inherently at a disadvantage. However, I must state that if you had no deep entanglements with the succubus or were a pure human, the one wielding the Holy Sword could have been you.”
The plump red-robed archbishop snorted, interrupting:
“See? I only mention bloodline in passing and he stands up as if someone stepped on his tail. I’ve seen some half-beastmen magnify others’ discrimination against their bloodlines while ignoring their own faults, and in the end, they justify turning the butcher’s knife against humans.”
George retorted, “Do you discriminate against me?”
“Yes, I discriminate against you.”
George pointed at him, saying, “For my honor, I request to battle you at the arena: best of five matches.”
“I refuse.” The plump red-robed cardinal said, “I cannot defeat you, George.”
George’s arm slowly lowered as he suppressed his anger and stood up, intending to leave.
“Brother George,” said the tall, thin red-robed archbishop on the left, “According to the regulations, Gregory’s relics are now open to you.”
Saying this, he personally brought forth a wooden tray, which contained several books and an opened envelope.
George felt dissatisfied and said, “I was present when it was discovered.”
“It is for your therapeutic benefit.”
George huffed through his nose, took the envelope and books, clutched them tightly in his hands, and strode out, pushing open the double doors. The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut behind him.
As he stepped out of the white Judgment Hall, the blazing sun hung high in the sky.
Sunlight fell on George’s crew cut, but he felt no warmth; his heart was empty and cold.
He still found it difficult to accept that his dream of being a hero had shattered.
“Hey, George.” A sudden male voice called out, “Didn’t notice me because you can’t take the news?”
George turned his head to see a middle-aged man with a square jaw standing there, clad in heavy training armor, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
George asked, “Who are you?”
This seemed to infuriate the man.
He straightened his posture and said, “I am the hero Beo. If you don’t remember my name, it’s fine; just know that I am a hero who is trusted.”
Before George could respond, the man unleashed a barrage of words:
“Absolutely, I am jealous of you. Ever since I lost to you when you were just a young lad, I lost to your beastman bloodline and Gregory…”
Only then did George recall that this man was one of his former challengers. He had many challengers and couldn’t remember them all, but he had an impression of Beo because years ago, Beo was a strong opponent.
George even lost once, only narrowly beating Beo two to one.
“Remember me? Ha ha.” Hero Beo said, “Since that day, I have been striving, applying for transfer to train outside, killing underground cultists with my comrades, and in the end, only I survived. I know that with your proud character, it’s only a matter of time before you slack off.”
“I just didn’t expect the great genius George to fall for lust. I’ve finally surpassed you and risen above you, the beastman genius. That’s all I have to say. Yes, I am jealous of you, I resent you, goodbye.”
George said, “Don’t call me a beastman in the future.”
Beo didn’t respond, saying, “If you want to be a hero, there’s only one possible way: I must die. What? You don’t intend to give it a try; you look like the kind of person who would.”
This was a jab at George’s bloodline.
George clenched his fists: “I will duel you for honor; let’s go now.”
Beo was filled with fighting spirit: “Good, just in time for you to see how sharp the sword I’ve honed for five years truly is.”
Half an hour later.
George emerged from the arena, with Beo lying on the ground behind him, while the priests rushed over to heal him.
After completely relaxing his muscles, George felt slightly better. He walked while reflecting on himself.
He actually thought he could hardly refute Beo. At least in the eyes of the sacred hall’s decision-makers, his entanglement with the succubus Chima rendered him unqualified to wield the Holy Sword.
Returning to his residence, George sat at his desk and placed the books and envelope on the table, pulling out the yellowed letter.
George’s gaze fell upon the yellowed paper. Memories of Gregory flooded back to him: his wrinkled face, the smell of burning wood, and his admonitions.
Unconsciously, tears moistened his eyes.
George wiped away the tears with his fingers, took a deep breath, and began to read.
“Dear George, if you are reading this letter, it means I am no longer in this world and have gone to meet the deity, or my soul has been turned to ash in purifying the evil enemies. I hope it is the latter, so do not be sad for me; that was my mission and redemption…”
“I have rambled on so much, you must be impatient. There are some things that cannot be hidden from you forever. Your mother is a natural witch, born the daughter of a merchant from a southern free city-state. Once, when her magical power erupted, it attracted witch hunters who pursued her.”
“During one of the pursuits, she escaped to my village, and you should already know the rest. At that time, I was still a shepherd. I secretly delivered her food and drink while she taught me to read. One day, witch hunters arrived, and she made a pact with the demon, sacrificing the entire village, my parents, friends, and relatives, in exchange for power.”
“I have regretted my childhood ignorance. I should have believed the ancient terrifying stories. But when I saw your mother, I was enchanted by her appearance. The more beautiful the person, the more malicious their heart… I really should have reported her to the witch hunters; I really should have confessed to the villagers that I had seen a witch… I really should have…”
There were many “I really should have” regrets that flowed from Gregory’s heart across the page. The latter sentences became fragmented, deviating from the main topic, turning into lines of confession:
“Father, I am sorry.”
“Mother, I am sorry.”
“Wid, I am sorry.”
“Cross, I am sorry.”
In the end, only lines of “I am sorry” filled an entire page.
George felt heavyhearted as he turned the page, seeing:
“This is my sin, and I must atone for it. The God of Dawn gave me a chance. The sacred hall favored me, and more than ten years later, when I became a qualified penitent, I finally found your mother’s trace. I hunted her down; she had an affair with your father and became pregnant with you. The process is unremarkable.”
“I failed; I could not kill her, only find you as a baby. At that time, small horns were growing on your head. I raised my purification hammer intending to purify directly, but you smiled at me. Plus, you were not deeply corrupted by magic, I carried you to the sacred hall and healed you.”
“I had hoped you would grow up in the sacred hall, but at that time, they would not accept you. Because it could not be determined whether you would remain stable, the so-called healing could be said to temporarily mask the problem.”
“So after much back and forth, I could only return you to your father. At that time, he still had no children and wanted to prevent the family line from dying out. He wished to have you back, even though he knew you were the child of a witch.”
“Afterward, I fought your mother again but still couldn’t kill her, yet I forced her to sign a contract. I cannot let you walk down the same evil path as her…”
George reminisced about his childhood, which was indeed a bleak time. However, each year, there would be a day when he was very happy; Gregory would pass through his father’s territory every year, bringing him gifts.
What he remembered most vividly was the red robe approaching him; the elder in the red robe said to him that the sacred hall would come to take him away, and in the distant white city, he would receive training to become a noble knight saving all people.
George remembered. At that time, he was very happy and even asked if he could have a little time to wait for Uncle Gregory, who brought him gifts every year, so he could say goodbye personally.
The elder in the red robe remained silent for a moment and then said, “I am Uncle Gregory. My youth has turned into the flames of atonement, and that is why I have aged, child.”
Thinking of this, a tear fell onto the yellowed paper of the letter.
George set the letter down, took a few deep breaths to calm his emotions, and continued reading.
The paper soon became thin, and just like that, there was only one page left, gone as quickly as Gregory departed.
The last page of the letter was very new.
“George, be careful of Chima.”
“Whether she truly loves you or not, she will harm you.”
“Just like your mother, she initially didn’t plan to sacrifice my homeland, but in the end, her evil nature made her commit numerous sins.”
“History vividly proves that throughout time, no hero has been betrayed by a succubus wife.”
“Our world is black and white, and good and evil cannot coexist. Child, our world is so cruel.”
“The few books among my relics are ancient texts I painstakingly found, unique copies, recording various accounts of succubi betraying heroes or monarchs.”
“I hope you won’t find me tedious this time.”
“—Gregory.”
George set down the letter, looked at the cover of the ancient book, and after a long while, he reached out and opened the cover, which was heavier than he had imagined.
George read through the words one by one.
The sun outside gradually set.
After sitting in his chair for several hours, George closed the ancient book upon reading the last line.
He felt heavy-hearted, his trust in Chima shaken; it was more accurate to say shattered.
The ancient book recounted a story.
In an ancient kingdom, a prince and a succubus helped each other, the prince became a pharaoh, and eventually, despite opposition, married the succubus. Their marriage was wonderful until the succubus discovered her beauty fading, and ultimately betrayed the pharaoh, watching him be torn apart by traitors.
There were several other stories with similar plotlines. The hero fell in love with a succubus, married against societal views, and years later, the succubus, due to aging, infidelity, and greed, invariably betrayed her partner.
This included male succubi betraying queens.
George speculated that the reasons for succubus betrayal were not merely aging, greed, etc., as the stories suggested; those were external assumptions.
What was it then that led succubi, throughout history, who had true love, to betray their partners?
The more George thought, the colder his back became, even starting to regret his previous ignorance and arrogance.
How much of his decision to marry Chima stemmed from guilt about her blood, and how much was a rebellion against societal norms?
As he contemplated this, he folded the letter neatly and placed it under the ancient book.
After hesitating, he resolved to have a serious talk with Chima and pause the wedding plans—
Suddenly, George’s brow furrowed as he sensed a serious crime happening nearby.
The crime was: a blacklist individual trespassing the inner city.
George immediately bounced up, rushing to the armor rack, quickly putting on his combat gear, which had shoulder plates attached. He swiftly secured the straps of the armor and put on the Gothic chest plate, completing the donning process in under half a minute.
With basic defenses in place, George wasted no time.
He gripped the giant sword in one hand and snatched up the helmet of Sharel to place on his head.
He sensed that the offender had slipped into his house. Perhaps they thought his residence was ordinary; they had truly run into a spearhead.
George suddenly pushed open the door and shouted, “Criminal! Where are you fleeing—Chima?”
Outside in the hall stood Chima, with her black hair. She was startled, one foot lifted, her waist bent, arms crossed over her chest, golden eyes wide-open, looking like a frightened cat.
George’s voice softened as he lowered his sword and asked, “What are you doing here?”
“You startled me,” Chima breathed a sigh of relief, then straightened her back, displaying a proud smile, her tail swaying behind her long stockings, “I finally found a loophole in the White City’s defenses. The sacred hall is nothing like I thought; they let me sneak in.”
Saying this, Chima approached George, wrapped her arms around his neck, and cheerfully said, “I scared you, didn’t I? Hehe. I snuck in to surprise you; do you feel moved?”
Chima’s beautiful and pure face was very close to him, and as she spoke, her breath brushed against his face. He could also smell the faint fragrance of her body, which felt very familiar.
Unable to resist, George embraced Chima’s lower back, drawing her closer as he said, “I’m very happy to see you.”
Chima’s lovely golden eyes blinked as she examined him and said, “You still don’t have body hair and look good without horns. Come here, handsome; I allow you to kiss me.”
George leaned in to kiss her, and Chima giggled, rubbing against him with her thigh, making a sound like silk rubbing against silk.
After the kiss, George firmly grasped Chima’s wrist.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
George said, “You broke the law; I should take you in for questioning.”
“Scoundrel!” Chima jumped up and stomped down on George’s foot, but she was light, and he only felt like he was pressed by cotton, “I worked hard to sneak into the White City, risking my life. I heard Frost Leaf say you were coming out today, so I wanted to give you a surprise since we haven’t seen each other for a long time.”
“I’m touched that you can come, but that’s not the point.” George pulled Chima, who pushed her legs against the ground, yet was still easily pulled away by him.
She grumbled, “Bad man! Gentleman’s sword! I organized a gathering of four, and it’s rare for us to meet. You actually have the heart to report me! How can you?”
“I will argue for leniency for you.”
George dragged Chima to the door of his house.
“Then I’ll have to resist the strict punishment.”
Before the melodious feminine voice faded, George’s hand gripped her delicate wrist, and she was transformed into a poorly made puppet with a note nailed to it that read: “George is foolish.”
Beside it was a drawing of a face sticking out its tongue. The house echoed with the sound of her light laughter.
George’s eyes flashed like lightning as he swept the ground, then pushed the door open and looked towards the street before glancing up at the roof.
On the roof were several red footprints and a trail of red smoke, all emitting a faint glow.
This was George’s ability to track lawbreakers.
With the giant sword slung over his shoulder, George chased after them, sounding the intruder alarm. In a moment, the entire inner city of the White City was aware that someone had illegally sneaked into the inner city. Since the last dark elf raid on the Demon King’s extraordinary material, the sacred hall had been on high alert, frightening the emergency guard team into total mobilization.
George chased all the way to Jenna’s residence, crashing through the tightly shut door, following Chima’s trail into the bedroom.
There was no one in the bedroom; in the corner, a human silhouette emanated a faint glow, and George instantly recognized it was Chima.
George lunged forward and tackled Chima to the ground, gripping her wrist and pulling her up against the wall.
Chima was unfazed, her golden eyes revealing a significant glance as she leaned against the wall. Relaxed, she looked like a cat ready for slaughter.
George said, “You are under arrest.”
Outside, chaos ensued, and the entire inner city was startled into commotion.
Chima tilted her head, her tail brushing against George’s cheek, and proposed, “So, how about a quick punishment before I get caught?”
She spoke while smiling, looking quite beautiful. Such words coming from her mouth didn’t seem too lewd.
George’s mouth went dry, his body heated, and he asked, “What kind of punishment?”
“Hehe, you know.” Chima extended her tongue, licking George’s cheek. After licking, she tilted her head and stuck out her tongue. “So salty! It smells so nice, but tastes terrible.”
George picked up Chima, pressed her down, leaning in for a kiss.
The noise outside grew louder, and Chima’s cheeks flushed with excitement…
Then, the evil succubus Chima was twisted and sent away by George and sentenced to seven days in prison.
———
Master: I originally thought that lifting names directly from League of Legends is quite lazy and might seem out of place. But then I thought again, isn’t the purpose of grading just to make it easy for everyone to understand? When I read books, I really dislike made-up terms; when there are too many, there can be over a dozen at once. Therefore, I don’t plan to change it. In this regard, “The Lord of the Mysteries” did a brilliant job with grades 987654321, which are straightforward. Professional titles follow after, so it doesn’t feel out of place.
