Chapter 58: Chapter 57: Offering Souls
The troll’s corpse was burning, and orange flames danced, sending waves of black smoke into the sky. Jima’s hair was darker than the smoke, the firelight casting an orange glow behind her, outlining her body as if she were the savior descending from the clouds in legend.
Even her sister, being a girl, momentarily forgot her pain.
The child Dagji nodded, holding his sister tight, saying, “You… are not human, right?”
“That’s right.” In the blink of an eye, black horns sprouted from her head, her tail swaying behind her, and her wings drooping, emitting a surge of heat. “How did you figure that out?”
“Humans are fish, meant to be eaten by trolls.”
His sister whispered, “Brother, it hurts.”
The animal trap clamped tightly around her calf; it was so large, the little girl’s leg so thin, like a twig that could snap at any moment.
Dagji quickly laid his sister down gently, grasped the trap with both small hands, and pulled with all his might. The trap only moved slightly, and his sister’s pale, waxy face turned even whiter from the pain.
Jima stood motionless, looking serious as she said, “Everything has a price. I can save your sister and help you leave, but you must offer something in return.”
Dagji felt around his body, pulling out a dark silver coin, perhaps one of the most valuable items in his home, and timidly asked, “Demon Queen, is this enough?”
Upon hearing the words “Demon Queen,” Jima wanted to laugh but maintained a straight face, saying, “You’ve committed a taboo. Silver is a pure and clean object, and demons do not accept things that harm themselves.”
Dagji was scared and pulled his hand back, but Jima was quick, grabbing his wrist and snatching the coin from his palm, boasting:
“But I am immensely powerful, one of the greatest demons in the demon realm. Even the Demon King himself only works for me; it’s just a worthless piece of silver.”
Dagji sniffed, momentarily stunned by Jima’s intimidation, nodding with curiosity and fear in his eyes.
“One more thing.” Jima pinched the dirty silver coin between her fingers and said, “What could this trivial coin buy my assistance? You must make another offer.”
Thinking of the legendary minstrels, Dagji said, “My soul, I can offer my soul to you.”
His sister, holding back her pain, tugged on Dagji and whispered, “Don’t.”
“Very clever,” Jima clapped her hands. “However, I need you to do one thing before I will assist you.”
“What?”
Jima flicked the coin back to Dagji, saying, “Wash it for me; it’s dirtied my gloves.”
“Yes, Demon Queen.”
Although the other party was just a child, and even she felt like laughing at herself, she was quite pleased. But then she thought, if they heard it, especially Eve Frostleaf, she would surely use that cold voice to repeat “Demon Queen” over and over until she buried herself underground.
“Also, don’t call me Demon Queen; I allow you to call me by my name.” Jima said, “Jima.”
The siblings worked hard to remember her name, carefully pronouncing it as if those two syllables contained mysterious magical power.
“Jima.”
“Jima.”
Jima squatted down and grasped the animal trap that could trap a large brown bear.
Though her arms were not like twigs, they seemed too weak compared to this trap, far inferior to the warriors in the town. Dagji thought Jima would use magic instead of brute force; he did not believe she could pry it open.
Jima used very little strength and easily pulled the trap open. His little sister endured the pain and pulled her bloodied leg out from the grasp of the bloodstained metal jaws.
She said softly, “Great Jima, could you not take my brother’s soul? Please take mine instead.”
Jima smiled, revealing a row of white teeth: “I want both of your souls.”
After saying this, Jima set the trap aside, pulled down the little girl’s cotton pants, and took out a bottle of blood-red healing potion—its original color was not red; the blood-red was dyed by Jima with pigment. She hastily poured the expensive healing potion on, emptying an entire bottle.
The little sister gritted her teeth, feeling an incredible itch deep in her wound, as if ants were biting her foot.
“All done.” Jima tucked the bottle away; the glass bottle was still very valuable. “You are very weak; you should be able to stand again in about ten minutes…”
“Your Majesty, your coin.” Dagji extended his hand, a silver, damp coin lying on his flushed palm. Just now, he had melted the snow with his body heat to wash the coin clean.
“This is much better.” Jima pinched the coin with her fingers, blinking to divine its quality. “Inferior coin.”
But she still tucked the inferior coin into her bag.
“Also, don’t call me Your Majesty; I won’t be responsible for your food and lodging. Quickly stand up; I need to mark your souls so that when you mature, I can collect your souls.”
The little sister was a bit frightened, looking at her brother. Dagji gave her a reassuring look, helping her up, and walked up to Jima, saying, “Mark us.”
Jima scooped up a handful of snow, using her body heat to melt it, saying, “When I say a spell, you both say it too.”
The siblings nodded.
“I swear, today I will offer my soul to the great, the most evil, the most cunning, the demon of demons, the supreme succubus queen, Jima.”
“I swear…”
Hearing their voices, Jima couldn’t help but smile, her figure under the firelight resembling a villain whose plot was succeeding. She reached out her hand, fingers coated with melted snow, dramatically tracing a cross on the foreheads of the two little children.
“Alright, your souls now belong to me.” Jima tossed aside the snow, “I will take you away from this dangerous place, and along the way, I will ask you many questions; speak freely.”
“Yes, Queen—”
“I’m reminding you for the second time.” Jima said, “Call me Jima, or I will stuff your souls into fish and throw you to the dogs to be eaten alive.”
Dagji trembled in fright, saying, “Yes, Jima.”
Jima nodded in satisfaction. She naturally did not have the ability, nor would she be able to take away the souls of these two; her earlier spiel about collecting souls was just for amusement. Additionally, she did not want to help without compensation, feeling it would be a loss; she needed something in return to feel balanced.
Even if it was just a silver coin, even if it was the “souls” of two little children.
Nearby, the troll searching for its missing companions could not find them at all.
“Jima,” Dagji asked, “Why can’t the trolls see us?”
“Because my magic is very powerful,” Jima replied, “Even if I burned down a house here, they would definitely not see it.”
“But…” Dagji’s sister timidly raised her hand. “There’s a troll coming from behind you.”
Jima turned her head, simultaneously catching a whiff of a foul odor.
This stinky creature should be dead along with the followers of Naguo.
She frowned, seeing a three-meter-tall troll crash into her tranquil, secret realm. As soon as it stepped inside, the stronger firelight illuminated its foolish face; it instinctively raised its hand to shield its eyes and stepped on the corpse of its companion. Looking down, it saw the charred body of its comrade and seethed with rage, swinging a club taller than Jima at her.
Jima hastily dodged to the side; the snow splattered by the club hit beside her, breaking a hole in her elevated status.
The siblings yelled in fright.
Jima looked at him, her eyes slightly warm, then dragged the troll into a dream. The troll slumped down, voluntarily lying on the ground. Jima grabbed her axe-spear, cursing under her breath, “I’ll teach you to interrupt my plans,” and struck hard at the back of its neck.
“Crack.”
The head was completely severed, the axe extending a red tongue to lick up the blood before setting it on fire.
Jima brushed the snow off her shoulders and, unabashedly, said to the two little children:
“That was my eternal opponent in the demon realm. I controlled this foul beast with magic; although you can’t see what’s happening, I just fought with him three times. He assembled an army of a hundred thousand to attack my kingdom, and I瞬ly returned to the demon realm, snapped my fingers, activated the trap magic, and took out his hundred thousand army before coming back.”
The siblings were awestruck, Jima’s figure in their eyes became incredibly mysterious. This demon effortlessly killed a hundred thousand troops in what seemed like an ordinary moment of evasion.
Dagji was half-convinced: “It seems I didn’t see you disappear.”
“Because I conveniently stopped time in the mortal realm.”
His sister asked, “Did your true self descend to help us?”
“Don’t think too far.” Jima replied, “Standing before you is merely one-tenth of my avatar; I was just gathering my avatars and activating the trap magic. Well, have you two had enough of your endless questions?”
The children’s eyes sparkled with wonder at having dealt with a powerful demon capable of slaughtering a hundred thousand troops in a fleeting moment of evasion. They obediently walked behind Jima, who glanced at the trolls outside as she reached the boundary of her tranquil secret realm and poked her head out, mimicking the troll’s voice to say:
“Stop looking; let’s go back to eat.”
“I saw them eat alone.”
The trolls cursed as they turned to leave, and Jima whispered a falsehood: “There is no firelight here.”
Just as her words fell, the flames on the trolls’ bodies lost their glow, and their surroundings darkened.
Dagji, disbelieving, reached out his hand, getting closer, feeling the warmth of the flames.
The lantern on Jima’s chest also “went out,” and she stepped into the snow, walking step by step, saying, “Let’s talk about today’s events.”
Dagji and his sister narrated the events that had happened.
A dozen days ago, a troll leader led a group of trolls to attack, breaking through ten towns, and the last town was the one that fell today.
They had come too late.
“Do you know if there are any other survivors?” Jima asked. “I need to find a guide who can lead me and my servants across the mountains.”
“I don’t know,” Dagji replied. “I just saw a group of survivors; they all died at the doorstep.”
“Alright,” Jima muttered, kicking a stone by the road. “Perhaps there are other survivors, maybe even someone who loves climbing mountains. By the way, how did you escape? Tell me everything; it’s boring on the way.”
Dagji recounted everything in detail, and when he talked about his mother being eaten alive, he couldn’t help but shed tears.
“You have courage, wit, and luck,” Jima commented casually. “You could make a good slave warrior in the future.”
“Thank you… thank you.”
“Brother, we are safe now,” his sister said.
They had already walked almost a kilometer, their hometown far away, vanishing into the night.
Dagji relaxed his mood; suddenly everything went black. His body, tormented by hunger and cold, could no longer support him, and he collapsed to the ground.
He vaguely heard the powerful demon’s words: “Tsk, so weak. You help your brother up, and later you need to feed him…”
