Chapter 19: Preparing for Expedition
Several harpies swooped down from the sky, targeting the fleeing humans on the road. A girl tightly held onto her peasant mother’s hand, running towards the White City several kilometers away.
But how could she run faster than the wings of the harpies?
The straggling humans at the back were pounced on by the harpies, screaming as they fell to the ground.
The little girl turned her head back and, frightened, began to cry out loudly.
Great. The victim was a girl who could evoke widespread sympathy; everyone loved to portray little girls as victims, and finally, I had the opportunity to crouch around and wait for this moment.
Watching invisibly from the side, Jima could hardly contain herself, leaping forward with a powerful flap of her wings, bursting out from the nearby forest.
The “Bloody Songstress,” discarded in the roadside grass, began to sing an inspiring tune, providing background music.
Just as the harpy’s claws were about to grasp the crying little girl.
Fall, fall quickly.
Jima urged internally.
That would be perfect.
The little girl glanced back at the harpy, and to her surprise, unleashed her hidden potential. Instead of falling, she ran even faster, overtaking her mother.
Before Jima could express her disappointment, the harpy’s claws aimed for the girl’s peasant mother.
Still twenty meters away, Jima shouted a curse:
“Die, you wretch!”
The three harpies immediately felt a sharp pain in their hearts, slowing down and collapsing to the ground, with only one barely managing to stay airborne.
Jima surged forward with her “branch axe gun,” boldly shouting, “Die, evil harpy!”
The harpy turned to see Jima, startled at her horns, tail, and wings.
Jima pierced it with her “branch axe gun,” its bright red tongue extending from the axe, drawing the blood from within. With a swift pull of the axe gun, she efficiently killed the other two harpies.
The speed was so fast that the remaining harpies hadn’t reacted yet.
Utilizing the agonizing power gained from her kills, Jima enhanced herself, charging forward; since the harpies did not meet her aesthetic standards, her efficiency in slaughtering them was extremely high, easily taking them down one by one.
The other humans, realizing they were safe, stood rooted in place, staring at Jima.
Holding her “branch axe gun,” stained with blood that continuously dripped from the axe blade, Jima spread her four-meter-wide wings and gently landed before the little girl. The frightened child clung tightly to her mother’s thigh.
Jima smiled and said, “It’s okay; you’re safe now.”
Although Jima was clearly a demon, the peasant mother wasn’t foolish enough to insult her in front of her, quickly bending down to say:
“Thank you.”
“Once you reach the White City, you’ll be safe,” Jima said, “But sadly, I am forbidden from entering.”
The humans said, “Thank you.”
Why isn’t anyone mentioning my identity? I made it so obvious. How could I continue the conversation?
Jima immediately used ventriloquism to mimic a man’s voice, saying, “Are you the demon lover of that George from the legend?”
She also applied a bit of lie magic, making it impossible for the group of ordinary humans to discern the source of the sound.
The humans looked at the beautiful Jima in surprise, even the ones rushing to aid their injured companions couldn’t help but turn back to look at her figure.
“Exactly,” Jima directed the scene, “I happened to pass by and just helped you a bit; I didn’t intend to leave my name.”
The people relaxed and continued to express their gratitude, “Thank you so much for saving our lives.”
At this moment, someone whispered, “What a coincidence, isn’t it?”
Originally, this sound was very faint, quickly drowned out by the voices of others, but Jima’s hearing far exceeded that of ordinary people, making her happy as she raised her hand, pointing at that person, and scolded:
“What? You actually think this is all part of my scheme?”
Everyone looked over, and Jima was pointing at a boy with chestnut hair and a bowl cut. He shrank back in fear and said, “No, I didn’t.”
But that only made everyone suspicious.
Jima went on to construct a scarecrow for him: “Although you said I intentionally summoned the harpies to make a grand entrance for fame and was ready to report me to the hall to have me killed…”
Since it was a lie, everyone instinctively believed her. The looks directed at the boy with the bowl cut turned disdainful.
His voice was getting softer: “No, no, I didn’t…”
“Everyone shouldn’t make it difficult for him,” Jima pretended to sigh and said, “I am used to such prejudice against me. I didn’t want to leave my name to avoid facing harsh words. Who told me I was born as a demon?”
The background music suddenly turned somber.
What a wonderful demon; her conscience must be as beautiful as her appearance.
The crowd looked at Jima with sympathy, instantly casting aside the admonitions from the Hall that had lasted over a decade.
The peasant tightened her embrace around her daughter, turning backward to glare fiercely at the bowl-cut boy, saying, “You’re such an ungrateful little man. I don’t care who she is; I only know that she saved me! Jima is a good person.”
The boy with the bowl cut looked close to tears.
“There’s no need to stick up for me; your gratitude is the best reward,” Jima said. “But I hope you can help me with one thing: find George, and tell him I’m at the old place with the silver Pegasus outside of the city waiting for him. I have urgent matters to discuss. Since I’m forbidden from entering the White City, I can’t find my lover.”
The background music turned melancholic again.
What a pitiable good person! Why is someone so kind unable to even see her beloved due to racial issues?
The peasant could no longer hold back her tears, saying earnestly, “Alright, we’ll definitely find him.”
With a smile, Jima placed one hand on her waist and lifted the other to wave, saying, “Goodbye, mortals. I wish you a safe journey.”
“Goodbye, beautiful demon.”
Jima turned and walked away, her figure gradually disappearing into the forest. Following the song’s melody, she arrived at the bushes. Lianxi was crouched in the grass, holding the “Bloody Songstress,” responsible for cutting the songs, deciding what to sing based mainly on Jima’s tail movements.
Lianxi was already in tears, the cat ears on her red hair quivering. She stood up and looked at Jima with reddened eyes, saying, “Master, you’ve really had it tough; even sending a message is so troublesome.”
Jima smiled brightly as she retrieved the “Bloody Songstress,” saying, “Lianxi, don’t cry; we must live this damn life with a smile. Destiny lashes me, and I respond with song.”
With that, the “Bloody Songstress” in Jima’s hand began to sing, “Today is a good day.”
Lianxi wiped her tears and looked at Jima with admiration, saying, “What Master said makes so much sense; I will definitely learn well.”
“That’s good to hear.” Jima patted Lianxi’s head, glancing up and down at her.
Ensuring her meals included meat, eggs, and milk, Lianxi had grown noticeably, now a head taller than before, and her previously bony body was gradually becoming fuller.
This skinny cat is starting to grow up; it seems that in another six months of care, she would mature enough to engage in some naughty deeds.
Lianxi straightened her back, feeling that her master cared for her.
“Alright, let’s go. Let’s wait for George at the old place.”
“Master, look over there!”
Following her index finger, Jima saw a group of harpies flying in from the horizon.
Since the two-tailed comet had streaked across the night sky last night, it was unclear what had happened with the Great Whirlpool. Massive magical energy was impacting the world, creating gaps in some areas, combined with cultists conducting rituals, allowing some of the demon kin to come into the real world.
Near the White City, larger settlements had the Hall’s stationed troops, and they couldn’t break through.
It seemed they were coming to hunt those seeking refuge in the White City.
Jima shouldered her “branch axe gun” and said, “It has nothing to do with me; I’m too lazy to fly that far.”
With that, she and the maid-clad Lianxi set off together.
Speaking of which, one of the fortunate individuals saved by Jima suddenly exclaimed:
“Strange, where did the music come from when the demon appeared just now?”
But this small query was quickly forgotten by the mortals. They would enter the White City bearing the rumors meticulously crafted by Jima, spreading tales of “the Hall discriminating against good demons” to give Jima a moral high ground.
If it weren’t for the protective measures in the White City that could limit or even eliminate unnatural rumors, Jima wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble crouching by the roadside, waiting for the right moment to craft a powerful rumor to infiltrate the White City.
Of course, a bigger reason is that she was bored.
After half an hour of walking, Jima arrived at the old place.
The old place was where Jima had exercised with George and the silver Pegasus last time.
There was an old oak tree growing on a grassy hillside, with a silver Pegasus tied nearby. As soon as Jima and Lianxi arrived, they spread out a white cloth, and Jima opened the entrance to the Dream Palace to cook.
She planned to tell George about the existence of the “Wish Compass” to convince him to let her work for free to retrieve the “Demon King’s Crown Fragment,” enabling her to repair the “Disk.”
Thus, some hospitality was necessary.
However, after Jima procrastinated and prepared lunch, setting it out on the white cloth, she hadn’t seen George’s shadow by the time the food cooled down.
After finishing lunch, George still hadn’t arrived.
Jima, feeling bored, hugged the girl Lianxi and lay back on the grass for a nap. Upon waking, George still hadn’t come.
Jima decided to wait a bit longer, letting Lianxi wash the Pegasus and feed it.
After finishing, he still hadn’t arrived.
Jima felt somewhat angry, so she mounted the silver Pegasus, holding her branch axe gun, and flew into the sky to look for the harpies and finish them off.
After catching and killing a dozen, Jima broke a sweat; the sky had already darkened, the sunset gradually sinking below the horizon. Jima rode back, seeing George squatting under the oak tree, eating the now cold dinner, while Lianxi next to him looked quite displeased.
Dismounting her panting Pegasus, Lianxi immediately came up to take the reins, and Jima looked at the fully armed George and asked:
“Did you have something important to do today?”
“A big deal.” George put down his bowl and stood up, saying, “The Hall summoned me and all the high-ranking officials to announce something.”
“What is it?”
“The Eternal Chosen, Marus, is just one piece away from collecting all the Demon King’s Crown fragments,” George said. “The Hall has decided to send a team of brave warriors to seize the last fragment before the Eternal Chosen can get it.”
“That’s good news,” Jima said. “You can retrieve the Holy Sword now.”
George replied calmly, “I am no longer qualified to wield the Holy Sword.”
“Huh? Aren’t you a hero?”
“Not anymore; there’s a new hero now,” George said. “I might have to assist him and follow his orders.”
“That Hall! Forget it…” Jima asked, “Honest self-reflection: do you really want to listen to him? To play a supporting role? History books will only record the great achievements of the hero; this time, you’ll be in the background.”
“I have no choice,” George said. “But the war to end the world is imminent, and the demon kin may attack at any moment.”
“You may be willing, but I am not; I don’t have such high aspirations. I trust no one but you.”
“I can understand.”
Jima said, “I have good news for you—I can get the Demon King’s Crown fragments faster than anyone.”
“What is it?”
“Just as I have the clues to open the Demon King’s treasury,” Jima said. “I possess a strange object that can locate the Demon King’s Crown fragments.”
George said, “That’s great! We can destroy the Demon King’s Crown fragments now.”
“Destroy?”
“Yes, the Hall has already mastered a method to destroy the Demon King’s Crown fragments.”
