Chapter 44 Chapter 43 Pretending Not to Know
Jima felt a stirring in her heart, but her expression remained unchanged. She felt like a past puppy, always entangled and unclear.
However, this was not difficult to anticipate; beautiful women often came from wealthy families, and noble backgrounds were everywhere.
The carriage carrying the Duchess left.
But Jima’s soul trembled as if shocked, feeling the connection between herself and the Duchess. She immediately realized that this might be due to the slave contract within her soul.
Did the other party feel it?
Jima’s heart raced; she couldn’t help but glance at the departing carriage. Perhaps inside, that former maid would jump up like a rabbit and scream something like “The Demon King is still alive.”
But it seemed that even so, she shouldn’t recognize me. Ha, I’ve changed so much.
Yet doubts still lingered in her mind.
She shifted her gaze to the flesh-faced knight, her movements natural, showing no signs of surprise at encountering an unexpected acquaintance. In contrast, George’s movements were much stiffer. He sternly focused on the knight, saying:
“This is a conflict that should have been avoided.”
The latter was quite arrogant, pointing and shouting, “Arrest this group of people colluding with the demon race!”
A bloody conflict erupted in the streets of Kisrilv’s capital.
The knights dismounted and rushed in, while George shouted with his massive sword, “Counterattack.”
The four immediately retaliated, directly causing the knights to fall, bloodied, on the ground, but the Kisrilvians grew more courageous, getting back up from non-lethal attacks, refusing to wipe the blood from their faces, and attacking with swords.
“You’re simply courting death!” Jima was furious. With the help of the four enchanted puppies, she raised her “branch axe” and cursed, “Die!”
George had just smashed the flesh-faced knight’s nose with his sword hilt when he smelled a strong scent of alcohol. Realizing Jima was about to kill someone, he quickly turned his head and shouted, “Jima, restrain yourself!”
“How annoying.” Jima’s axe-spear froze mid-air.
The bloodied soldier shouted hatefully, “Demon!”
He rushed at her with a sword.
Jima glared at him. “Go take a long nap.”
The soldier immediately knelt down, his bear-skin hat fell off, revealing a terrifying scar on his head, as if a red-hot iron bar had been pressed against it.
Nearby, Jena picked up a war hammer and swung it, sending a brave knight’s nasal helmet flying as he fell straight down. The rest tried to take the opportunity to attack but were blocked by a translucent barrier.
These mortals and lower-tier supers were no match for the four, and as the scales of victory slowly tilted in Jima’s favor.
Hoofbeats echoed from the other end of the street. Jima looked over and saw a group of red-robed winged knights, like a cluster of blazing fire, slowly approaching. The onlookers formed a wall, needing to be slowly dispersed.
Jima shouted to George, “George, the main force is coming.”
George didn’t hear but saw it. He was throwing a knight aside, flattening three or four people, saying, “Everyone restrain yourselves and be ready to communicate properly.”
Jima glanced at the fainted Kisrilvians; indeed, it was quite the atmosphere for communication.
So far, no one had died, although there were always unfortunate souls on the brink of death; for example, a knight had his head split open by Jena, with his skull dented in. Jena forcibly pulled him back for immediate treatment.
Onlookers viewed it as just a regular conflict, and the windows of the second floors of nearby buildings were opened, with a group of older folks drinking and snacking while pointing at the large brawl below.
But at that moment, a beam of blue light suddenly shone down on Jima, dispelling her magical disguise. Black, curved horns, long wings, and a fleshy tail appeared.
The long-handled axe-spear in her hand, which seemed normal, had changed as well. Red blood runes, the axe blade under the spear tip, and a pair of sharp teeth emerged, with a long, bright red tongue covered in barbs desperately licking towards the blood.
Panic erupted nearby.
“Demon!”
“Devil race!”
The screams surged back and forth.
“Clap, clap, clap.”
The windows almost shut simultaneously, and one window fell to the ground due to too much force.
The originally curious crowd scattered, fleeing faster than a dog with its tail on fire. An elderly person fell three times yet got up each time, unwilling to part with his wine jar. As people fled in droves, the exits became insufficient, with some even crawling toward the main force from the horse’s back.
In just half a minute, there were only a few broken bottles and nearly ten shoes left behind by the onlookers.
The main force was only a little way from the “brawl site.” The Duchess of Kisrilv, riding at the front, galloped forward, commanding the winged knights to surround them, while two mounted ice mages warily watched the four.
The Duchess of Kisrilv pointed his runic blade at Jima and shouted, “What demon dares to reveal its true form in broad daylight?”
The flesh-faced knight, with a collapsed nose, had his hair grasped by George, and weakly exclaimed, “Quick! Eliminate this evil—”
George immediately let go, and the flesh-faced knight fell to the ground, lowering his sword and sincerely saying, “I am George, the Holy Knight of the Temple; this is a misunderstanding.”
Jima added, “Involving an evil conspiracy.”
Yve Frostleaf lowered her bow, and Jena wiped the blood and brain matter from her war hammer and quickly hid it behind her.
This matter could be large or small. On the larger scale, it was collusion with the demon race, attempting to destroy the capital of Kisrilv. On the smaller side, it was merely a drunken brawl that had gone awry.
Jima held a pessimistic view about George’s negotiations.
She could swear on the tip of her tail that things certainly wouldn’t be so simple; otherwise, why would someone secretly plot a conspiracy?
The Duchess of Kisrilv reluctantly listened to George’s negotiations and said, “I’ve heard of you, but I didn’t know that your succubus was so evil, even attacking the Kisrilv city guards for her. According to the law, before clearing your suspicions, you must surrender your weapons and stand down.”
George countered, “We are undertaking an important mission that impacts the world and cannot be so easily slaughtered. This is a document issued by the Temple; I can prove my identity.”
“Even if you are the Emperor of the Empire, you must lay down your weapons for such actions.”
George was unyielding: “My lord, I request to see the Empress.”
He didn’t trust the other party; it was likely that they had been corrupted. Surrendering their weapons would be extremely dangerous.
“Are you planning to assassinate her?”
“No.”
Both sides faced each other with tension for five or six minutes.
Jima leaned against George’s cold armor and asked, “What if it turns to fighting?”
George sounded a bit helpless: “We can only fight our way out.”
Jima felt a spark of excitement; if they fought their way out, all worries would vanish. There would be no concern about exposure, and she wouldn’t have to endure this kind of humiliation. However, without the Empress’s help, the task of finding the fragments of the Demon King’s crown would be even harder.
Who knows, they might end up being pursued by a bunch of Kisrilv’s soldiers.
She instinctively lifted her tail, wanting to provoke the other side’s anger, to stoke the fire. But seeing the other side included a priest, she dismissed the idea; such small movements would surely be noticed.
In the end, both sides still didn’t engage in combat. The Duchess of Kisrilv conceded, agreeing not to disarm the group, but George and his companions had to rest in a specified location under military supervision.
The Duchess of Kisrilv also stated he would communicate with various parties.
George asked, “Can I meet the Empress?”
“No guarantee,” replied the Duchess of Kisrilv. “You can only meet Empress Catherine if she summons you.”
George discussed with everyone and decided to accept the terms of the Duchess of Kisrilv. Jima was very unwilling and insisted on the Duchess guaranteeing in person that there would be no conspiracy like a military encirclement or sneak attack.
Naturally, she was met with a cold expression from the Duchess of Kisrilv.
However, George asked if this was a trap.
Unexpectedly, the Duchess of Kisrilv responded, saying, “It is not a trap.”
Thus, the four left the city and rested in a noble estate outside, surrounded by a stationed army. They were ordered not to leave the estate, but aside from that, they were free to do anything.
Every day, someone delivered necessities, and servants came to serve them, which could be considered decent treatment.
Within the estate, the four naturally gathered to discuss matters.
That night, Jima used her extraordinary ability to gather information and received bad news.
“The city of Kisrilv has been attacked by demons?”
“Yes.” The black-clad servant spoke tersely, handing George a letter. “This is a letter from the brave Beowulf for you.”
Without saying anything further, he turned and left.
“What does it say?” Jima was the first to lean over, peering at the contents of the letter.
The message written on plain white paper was very simple: “George, by the time you read this, I should be three steps ahead of you, Rabbit.”
It’s worth mentioning that this world also has a fable about the tortoise and the hare.
George crumpled the paper into a ball, turned to call the others for a meeting.
With weapons in hand, the four formed a circle. George stood because he was in heavy armor, and the estate didn’t have chairs suited for someone like him.
“Big trouble.” Jima raised her hand and spoke first. “It must be the magical winds from last night; this black pot will definitely be placed on my head.”
“Have you divined the fragments of the Demon King’s crown in the past few days?”
“Of course not,” Jima replied. “You know it would attract enemies’ covetous eyes.”
Jima originally intended to feign an interest in divining the fragments, but George, being cautious, warned her not to do so in advance.
After discussing for a while, all four unanimously agreed that time waits for no one, and if there was no movement in another three days, they would have to resort to violent measures.
On the table lay the defense map from outside; they were planning how to quickly and safely carve out a bloody path while minimizing casualties. Dice representing randomness occasionally rolled.
At this moment, a bell rang.
An unexpected guest arrived.
It was the Duchess of Kisrilv, disguised. Upon arrival, his first words to George were:
“Would you be willing to tell a poor husband whether my wife was ever rescued from the Demon King by you?”
Before George could respond, he said with determination, “If you answer, regardless of the outcome, you will receive my utmost assistance.”
George felt anger swell in him.
