Chapter 11: Lockdown
The two of them, one flying and the other running, with the cat in tow, finally stopped after running for half a day.
After confirming it was safe.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been this dirty.”
Wearing clothes that hadn’t been washed for nearly two days, a mix of sweat, dust, and other grime made it quite uncomfortable.
Lianxi the cat transformed into human form and quickly said, “Master, let me help you change and take a bath.”
“No, let’s see what good stuff we’ve found first.”
Jima placed the large bag on the ground.
In the distance, George was trudging back from the storage area, carrying a nuclear warhead from Earth.
“Magical items are all glowing.”
As soon as Jima finished speaking, she eagerly began to untie the knot on the large bag.
Various delicate jewelry pieces and a pile of clothes were mixed together, many items glowing inside.
Jima discarded those magical items that would be helpful in battle—daggers, bows, branches—like trash onto the ground.
“Wow, a pair of beaded panties that fit me perfectly.”
“Long gloves? I like them.”
“Green, still green. Are wood elves colorblind? It doesn’t match me at all.”
“Finally found a pair of long stockings, but unfortunately, they have very little elasticity. Really outdated.”
Holding up a pair of worn black stockings, Jima sighed and placed it to her left, continuing to search for pleasing clothes among a pile of wrinkled garments.
George felt a pang in his heart.
A few days ago, Jima was a queen on Earth, and nearly the entire American fashion industry catered to her. But now, following him, she had to sift through someone else’s discarded clothes.
He silently organized the glowing magical items in his mind, filtering out what could be useful.
“A nice-looking robe!”
Jima pulled out a red robe from the stack of clothes; the fabric was smooth and draped beautifully, and the wrinkles seemed to disappear when held in her hands. She looked at the silver thread patterns in the fabric that sparkled.
“And it has dust-repelling properties.”
Jima was enamored, her gray face breaking into a smile as she held it against herself and quickly shed her clothes, tossing them aside to eagerly try on the shimmering red robe in the morning light.
As the sun began to rise, it seemed to shine on her beauty, breaking through the lead-gray clouds and illuminating half of her body.
Lianxi stood by, gazing at her master, catching sight of the red dress Jima had just changed out of.
The red dress, originally exquisite and custom-tailored by a master for Jima, seemed to lose all its brilliance once it left her body, and the dust and ashes upon it turned it into a pile of rags.
“Ouch, it’s so tight.” After struggling into the red robe, Jima complained as it pressed against her chest, stripping off her clothes: “Are there truly no busty wood elves? This is ridiculous.”
Lianxi smoothed out a pure white long dress, making it look like new: “How about this one, Master?”
“This one?” Jima took it, looked it over, and saw that its design was influenced by nearby human clothing, with an open neckline and tied strings, saying, “It’ll do.”
Lianxi pointed at the ragged red dress at her feet and asked, “What about these old clothes, Master?”
In the next moment, she felt she had overstepped.
How could such dirty clothes be worn again?
Jima hesitated for a rare moment, her gaze falling on the pile of clothes, saying, “If we wash them, they can still be worn.”
Lianxi’s eyes watered slightly, and she quickly looked down to avoid making Jima feel awkward, replying, “Yes.”
Jima then put on a waist cincher and picked out some accessories. She seemed cheerful about it, picking up a silver headpiece and placing it on Lianxi’s cat head, saying:
“Look, this suits you quite well, so I’ll give it to you.”
The headpiece was made of silver chains and green gemstones, exquisitely crafted, imbued with magical power purely to keep the gemstones from getting dusty.
Lianxi felt warmth in her heart and said, “Thank you, Master.”
“Then make sure to wash clothes well from now on; I’ll get you a basin of water.”
Using her simulation ability, Jima conjured some water and transformed her weapon into a laundry basin.
“You filthy mongrel!” the laundry basin shouted, “How dare you use me to wash clothes! I will strip your skin and break your bones!”
Lianxi paid it no mind, scrubbing the wet clothes with soap, and soon the water in the laundry basin was dirty.
A proud weapon blessed by the Blood God had fallen to such a state; if it weren’t for today’s challenge against a strong enemy and after having spilled blood and knocked the back of the exiled Scard’s head, “Straight Branch” wouldn’t have been disrespected.
George squatted on the ground, facing away from the two girls, sorting the magical items into categories.
“Hey, kid.” Jima put her hands on her hips and gave George a gentle kick: “How do you like my new outfit?”
George politely stood up and turned around, looking Jima up and down.
Her long dress and boots clung to her; the strings at her chest barely held it together, barely containing what seemed ready to burst.
She was stunning and attractive, but it didn’t have much to do with the outfit, and she looked somewhat like an odd tavern maid, especially with the tavern maid uniform clashing with the fragments of a crown floating above her head.
Yet it was already quite a feat to find clothes that were barely fitting and matched from a large pile.
George said, “You’d look beautiful in anything.”
“Such flattery,” Jima said, but a smile clearly appeared on her lips as she twirled a strand of her black hair, adding, “Don’t you think I look like a tavern maid? I do too; like the ones from Germany who serve beer. I actually quite like it, but if my hair were golden, it would match this outfit better.”
George smiled, “Indeed.”
“Come, let’s see what good things we’ve found.”
All the magical and extraordinary items had been categorized.
Among them were four spatial bags, the most convenient and practical items. If the Blood God’s army hadn’t attacked and destroyed the Griffin Forest, they would have likely discarded magical items, usually using them as fuel for reforging; otherwise, they would’ve found even more.
The capacity was large, and one bag could fit an entire Earth “local specialty,” so George wouldn’t have to carry the nuclear warhead around all day.
There was also a bag that could produce many dried fruits, which Jima claimed for herself and tucked it at her waist, declaring it hers.
“Another crown?” Jima picked up a gold-and-green crown, placing it on her head and looking at herself in a mirror: “How ugly, not even close to the crown fragments.”
The crown fragments not only floated above her head but also created a phantom image of a crown.
“A supernatural wooden bow requiring your identification.”
Jima took the bow and examined it; the bow was wrapped in vines, and she pouted: “Not very useful; we don’t have archers here.”
“I can pull and shoot arrows,” George said. “I still have one slot for extraordinary items; it’s better than nothing.”
“Not very useful,” Jima concluded after her divination. “An ordinary extraordinary bow; it can shoot endless wooden arrows, bind opponents with vines, and has poison, but for you, as a server, it’s not as effective as Uncle Black’s AK-47. By the way, where’s your chapel flag?”
“I didn’t bring it with me when looking for you.”
“That one suits you much better.”
Jima casually set down the wooden bow and picked up a charred thorn seed. She could sense the resentment within it, blinked, and performed divination:
“It’s from a dead Thorn Sister. Before she died, she saw her sister die and was very angry. Unfortunately, magic and fury couldn’t help her achieve victory in battle.”
“Is it special?”
“For the Thorn Sisters, when sisters share a soul, if one body dies, as long as the corpse is placed in the Tree of Life, they can be revived in a year or two,” Jima explained. “Understand, kid?”
George looked at Jima.
Jima beamed with pride, showing off the knowledge accumulated over time.
“I’ve learned something.”
“That’s more like it, sufficiently humble.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Things from the past,” Jima replied. “You wouldn’t want to hear, and I wouldn’t want to tell you.”
“You’ve trespassed into the land of wood elves for your harem?”
“How could you think so badly of me?” Jima lied. “I only wanted to glimpse the legendary, closest-to-nature, beautiful wood elves, but there was a small misunderstanding, and a bit of blood was spilled.” Maybe around seventy or eighty wood elves died, after all.
George had guessed most of it, neither rebuking nor lecturing her. By his side, Jima’s hypocrisy was fine with him, and he also had the confidence to allow her hypocrisy.
“What effect does it have?”
“Have you played that old game, ‘League of Legends’?”
“We last teamed up in a game.”
“Remember, you eternal dog-head enthusiast.” Jima said, “Do you recall the ultimate of the Heart of Thorns? It’s similar to that; it grows a large area of resentful thorns with poisonous flowers. Still, I feel it doesn’t pose much threat to truly strong characters. The side effect is that you’ll become very mournful.”
“My inner strength is firm, so I shouldn’t be affected much.”
“Then here, it’s better than nothing.”
The rest of the assorted magical items had only a few useful pieces, with a handful of energy stones that contained magical winds, but had turned blood-red, polluted by the Blood God’s power. Jima found them quite useful.
After categorizing everything, Jima began a divination ritual.
Not wanting the trouble of fetching another basin of water, Jima simply used the dirty water basin that had just been used to wash clothes for the divination and tossed in the innocent viscera of nearby magically enchanted beasts.
The divination was very successful.
Beneath the murky water, the appearance of a faceless Enchantress appeared; her golden long hair shone like brilliant sunlight, adorned in a soft, smooth, fire-red off-shoulder evening gown, with golden embroidery along the edges.
“Wow.” Jima’s tail shot up, “What a beautiful sister, she doesn’t have eight breasts or claws, her sense of beauty is surprisingly similar to mine.”
George glanced over, feeling she wasn’t as good-looking as Jima, but he knew that saying so didn’t matter to Jima. Seeing her tail perk up, she definitely wanted to develop a fleeting romance with this faceless Enchantress.
“It’s very likely a disguise.”
“Don’t underestimate me; I can crush her with ease. I’ll not only divine her but also unveil her true form. She won’t know a thing.” Jima rubbed her hands together, wagging her tail: “Once I catch her, I’ll be sure to interrogate her severely.”
“I will do my utmost to prevent her from escaping,” George said, his holy sword shining brightly on his shoulder, seemingly reinforcing his determination.
The laundry basin grumbled and cursed, but Jima ignored it, watching the ripples on the water surface:
“Her location is in Vanguard City, a fortress controlled by the Empire. It’s likely fallen… oh? It hasn’t fallen yet? Then why is she in Vanguard City?”
