Chapter 28 Chapter 27 Plastic Sisterhood
Jima did not hide her disappointment; her facial muscles were slack, and she wore a look of despair.
Eve Frostleaf gently landed about five or six meters away from Jima, glanced at her, and then turned her gaze away, treating Jima as if she were air.
Jima looked up and down at Eve Frostleaf, who was absolutely pristine, her silver hair floating without being messy, her silver scaled armor completely clean, reflecting light, raising the brightness of the dirty ground beside her.
Looking at herself again, there was a puddle of vomit in front of her; she gritted her teeth, realizing she might even bite on some pebbles, which were hard on her teeth. She reached to grab her messy hair, still dusty from being washed that morning, brushed off a handful of dirt, and her clothes were covered in dust. She patted herself, and the pebbles fell away, sending dust swirling into the air.
Compared to Eve Frostleaf, she felt as dirty as a stray dog.
What bad luck! Generally speaking, random teleportation rarely drops people underground to eat dirt. If only Eve Frostleaf could rub against me a bit; it would be fine if we were both dirty.
Jima said, “Watch me for a moment, I’m going to take a shower.”
Eve Frostleaf did not reply but simply took down the bow from her back and kept watch.
Jima opened the entrance to the Dream Palace. She did not wash for long because Jima didn’t believe the elves outside had much patience to wait for her. After putting on new clothes, she didn’t even comb her hair before returning to the real world, taking only about ten minutes.
After emerging from the Dream Palace and experiencing a moment of dreamlike dizziness, Jima clearly saw Eve Frostleaf’s silver figure; fortunately, she hadn’t left.
On the endless tundra, there were gray-blue rocks everywhere, covered in green moss.
The tall Eve Frostleaf stood steadily on a large rock, with her back to Jima, gazing into the distance at the snow-capped mountains. From this angle, she could be seen revealing her silver calves not covered by armor, her calves strong and toned, stepping on the moss, creating an astonishing line.
However, Jima couldn’t help but recall that day in bed during the round robin battle; it was those legs that had kicked her off the bed time and again, so powerful that they could be dubbed the “Sighing Legs,” effectively stopping the lecherous Jima.
Seemingly sensing Jima’s gaze, Eve Frostleaf turned around quickly, her skirt armor covering her thighs; her expression was emotionless, and her eyes remained cold.
Jima quickly averted her gaze, feeling displeased and thinking that she felt like a pervert caught in the act.
That Frostleaf must certainly look down on me again; just look at her oval face and how high she holds her chin; it’s really annoying.
Eve Frostleaf jumped down from the large rock and landed lightly on a mossy stone, very steady. She raised her delicate hand and pointed in one direction. Just as Jima started to look over, Eve Frostleaf leaped forward, taking giant strides like a martial arts hero in a movie, covering multiple steps with each leap across the rocks.
What a show-off. I’m lustful, but I’m not a dog trailing behind a person.
Jima spread her wings—four meters long—and flapped powerfully, soaring into the sky, flying away from Eve Frostleaf.
It was only autumn, but the winds of Kisslef were already cold as a knife, hitting her face. Thankfully, Jima was a platinum level powerhouse, unafraid of the cold wind or ordinary fires.
With every flap, she soared ever higher, and the small river on the tundra below became thinner, like a winding thread of smoke. She recalled Eve Frostleaf’s earlier performance and grew angrier the more she thought about it; her innocent face puffed up.
So arrogant! She didn’t say a word to me and really thinks I’m just a little dog brought along for the hunt? That wherever she goes, I should go too? She must subconsciously think someone like me, a lecher, is no different from a starving dog, wagging its tail and following her around, forced to smile without daring to frown.
Just because she’s pretty and has long legs.
Get lost! There are so many girls in the world; I don’t need to lose my dignity over a beauty.
“A haughty person is really annoying,” Jima muttered to herself. “Because she’s only sweet to George and cold to me.”
Unhappily, Jima flapped her wings harder several times, flying higher and faster.
Due to the abundant magical energy in the world now, it was easier for her as a demon to fly with more energy.
Thus, aimlessly flying for over half an hour, Jima calmed down a bit and remembered the plan George had mentioned earlier.
The plan was that after random teleportation, everyone should ideally find a human settlement on the first day to determine their position, and then gather at the Dream Palace to discuss and confirm the meeting point.
Eve Frostleaf might have found a settlement, pointing it out for me to follow.
Should I go back and find her?
Jima instantly imagined a scene: that proud elf, Eve Frostleaf, seeing her scampering back, would lift her chin and look down on her with disdain in her almond-shaped eyes.
“Forget it,” Jima said. “She probably thinks I’m just a lustful dog who ran back when it was hungry.”
And so, Jima cast aside that silvery figure and, holding her “branch axe lance” in both hands, searched for human settlements in the sky.
The land below, though lush, was just green grass. It was cold and barren, only capable of supporting some rabbits and contributing a few berries.
Very few people settled here long-term; the Kisslef people were like nomads, moving from one barren land to another slightly less barren place.
Thus, after flying for over half an hour, she finally spotted some people.
Dead people.
Corpses piled in a four-wheeled caravan, and when they set it ablaze, black smoke rose into the sky; heads piled up in a small heap, a banner of the Blood God stuck in them.
Jima circled like a crow in the sky several times, carefully observing the grim scene below through her binoculars.
Aside from the burning four-wheeled caravan of charred corpses, the other four-wheeled caravans were all missing wheels, and their canvas had been stripped away. Looking at the heads on the skull throne, none of them wore hats. This was simply robbed by the biggest outcasts from eight generations back.
They were either Greenskins or Noskar people; if Greenskins did not worship the Dark Four Gods, then they were Noskar people. This was quite normal—Kisslef had blocked the Noskar’s advance toward the south on land.
Jima put away her binoculars and continued to soar higher.
The misfortunes of the Kisslef people below were not worth her concern; such things were as frequent there as wolves eating sheep.
Flying, flying; the sky grew darker.
Jima spotted a Noskar warband’s camp, consisting of about a hundred people, with mutated, demonized war hounds howling.
It was an ordinary Noskar warband; there might be a champion warrior and some Noskar people blessed by darkness, even some who had become demons. To a village, they were simply disastrous.
But to Jima, they were like ants on the ground. However, she was not in the mood to waste magic on this Noskar warband.
The sky was cloudless; the people below noticed her, and war hounds the size of calves barked at her, while a large Noskar man shouted at her, banging his shield.
Jima looked down at these tiny figures, which were no bigger than ants. Using herself as a medium, she cast a “Pestilence Curse” and continued to fly.
An hour later, with more vegetation below, Jima descended into a coniferous forest.
Aside from some corpses, she hadn’t found a human settlement, but this did not stump her; she performed a divination to ascertain her current location.
She then set up a “Tranquil Hidden Barrier,” dug a hole, and concealed the “entrance to the Dream Palace.” After completing these tasks, she eagerly dove into the Dream Palace to enjoy life and rest.
