Chapter 147: Reluctant to Depart

"Shack, tell me, is she poisoned or just ill?"

"My lord, she is definitely not poisoned. As for whether she is ill, I cannot say."

Victor often harbored the misconception that alchemical humans were omnipotent. Yet, reality proved that they were ignorant of everything outside the realm of willpower. While they possessed the capacity to learn, that ability was no better than that of an ordinary person. However, poison was well within the expertise of an alchemical militiaman. As for illness, could a Great Knight, who had achieved the communion of internal and external energies, even suffer from such a thing?

Knowing Shack was certain it wasn't poison, Victor exhaled in relief. A Great Knight crawling out of a lake, finding his camp, demanding food and clothes, and warning him not to take advantage of her before fainting—all of this indicated she was fully aware of her condition. It seemed her life was not in immediate danger.

"My lord, I have seen this condition before. It is likely the sequelae of overusing one's battle aura," Nelson said in a deep voice, then explained, "You know, our War Bear Mercenary Group was once hired by the Kingdom of Dudo to raid the logistical supply depots of the Sassans. Once, while retreating after a mission, we encountered a Dudo knight who had fallen into a coma. The risk of aiding a Dudo knight was immense; the Sassan knights would have slaughtered us all before capturing the knight. But high risk means high reward, so we eventually took the knight with us. His condition was exactly like Miss Chapman's."

"And then?" Victor asked hurriedly.

"Then, we took a wide detour, traveling by night and hiding by day, and successfully evaded the Sassan pursuit. We safely returned the knight to the Kingdom of Dudo. To our surprise, that knight turned out to be a Silver Knight of the Quinn family. The Quinn family gave us a generous reward—not only an 8,000 gold sol bounty but they also replaced all our equipment. Most importantly, we established a connection with the Quinn family. Thanks to that, we landed many high-quality contracts. Our mercenary group reached its peak, with over a hundred combatants and more than two hundred support staff," Nelson said with pride.

Victor was silent for a long moment, then patted Nelson on the shoulder and said sincerely, "Nelson, I guarantee you will achieve even greater success in the future. But what I am asking is: what symptoms did that Great Knight have afterward? How long was he unconscious? Was he in danger? Did his strength regress?"

"Ah! Oh, in the beginning, he alternated between hot and cold, and it took half a day for him to wake up. Sir Quinn told us that he had encountered many enemies and had only narrowly escaped after exhausting his strength. Due to the excessive use of his battle aura, he required massive amounts of food and plenty of rest," Nelson replied hastily.

"And did his battle aura recover?" Victor asked again.

Nelson struggled to recall for a moment before saying with certainty, "We walked for a full fourteen days, and his aura did not recover during the journey. However, when we met again, his aura had already been restored. By my count, that was the third day after he returned to his family."

Only then did Victor understand why the young lady of the Chapman house was in such a wretched state, running to his camp before her clothes were even dry. When she killed the ant-man leader, her battle aura must have been on the brink of exhaustion. The aftermath of forcing her aura to circulate left her in need of protection. As a result, the weakened Jillian had been abandoned by Victor on the island in the middle of the lake. Before losing consciousness, she had been forced to seek Victor's shelter; perhaps she had observed the alchemical militiamen on surveillance duty, tracked their footprints, and eventually found this place. Jillian just didn't know that Victor could see everything happening on the island, and even if she had truly fainted on the island, Victor would have saved her.

Jillian had beautiful eyelashes, and the way she curled up on the ground like an infant made her look pure and fragile—a stark contrast to the imperious demeanor she had displayed upon arrival. Victor frowned. This vibrant, breathtaking beauty was the most seductive woman he had ever seen, yet her personality was far from pleasant. She was clearly here to seek protection, but she acted as if she were here to collect a debt.

No matter how much Victor disliked her, he could not watch her sleep on the ground. So, with a generous sigh, he picked up the unconscious knight and ducked into the shack. After settling her in, Victor stepped out and ordered, "Shack, take some men and build a wooden house."

By dusk, Jillian was awakened by a rich, savory aroma. She opened her eyes to find herself lying on a bed. Beneath the felt that served as a sheet lay a layer of unknown leaves, making it very soft and fluffy. Then, to her surprise, she realized she was in a wooden house. The hut was very crude, the log walls and roof exuding a fragrant scent, clearly having been built just moments ago.

Jillian sat up and discovered she was wearing a dress made of fine linen, common among the nobility. However, the dress was very short, the hem reaching well above her knees. Jillian’s expression shifted, and she quickly checked her body. Only after confirming nothing was amiss did she let out a long sigh of relief.

Jillian's expression was volatile; her slender eyebrows furrowed, then stood straight like swords, then relaxed. After sitting quietly for a while, she looked down to see a pair of strangely styled shoes placed by the bed.

The shoes appeared to be made of some kind of lizard skin, featuring a half-high heel and a shaft that rose almost to her knees. Jillian put them on and found they fit perfectly. After taking a few steps to adjust, she pushed the door open and stepped out.

Victor was sitting by the campfire. When he saw Jillian emerge from the shack, his eyes lit up.

Her stunning beauty, ice-cold temperament, proud bust, and long, straight legs, paired with the tight-waisted short skirt and mid-heeled boots, gave Jillian the air of a true queen.

In the human kingdoms, short skirts and mid-heeled shoes existed. Short skirts were usually worn by common women, who would wear trousers underneath, while noblewomen wore long gowns paired with crystal slippers. The combination of tall boots and a short skirt was appearing in this world for the first time. The sliver of fair, smooth skin between the skirt and the boots made Jillian look exceptionally seductive.

It had to be said that this outfit perfectly suited Jillian's temperament. Victor was quite satisfied with his mischief.

Jillian walked to the campfire with her long legs and, without ceremony, picked up the roasted venison and began to eat. After finishing the meat and draining a cup of purple cane wine, she said to Victor, "Did you change my clothes?"

"My maid is not here. I couldn't just watch you sleep in a filthy state, could I? I had no choice but to do it myself," Victor shrugged, feigning indifference, though he quietly slid five meters away.

Jillian still kept a cold face, but the murderous glint in her eyes had vanished. Had Victor dared to let a low-born male attendant touch her body, Jillian would have fought him to the death.

Noblewomen in the human kingdoms did not necessarily have strict moral concepts regarding chastity, but they did have an inviolable taboo: low-born men could not touch noblewomen. Once, a princess of the kingdom was saved by an ordinary farmer; the king had first bestowed a hereditary knighthood upon the farmer, then ordered him to commit suicide, all to preserve the princess's reputation.

Victor was well aware of noble taboos. Although a male noble washing and changing the clothes of an unmarried noblewoman was often subject to gossip, as long as it fell within the scope of providing aid, it would not be condemned; rather, it could even become a romantic tale. Thus, Victor had happily completed the task, and based on Jillian’s figure, had ordered the alchemical militiamen to craft the skirt and boots.

"You gave me this short skirt that only peasant women wear—are you trying to humiliate me? Viscount, where are your manners?" Jillian demanded angrily.

"Miss Chapman, there isn't enough fabric here, and my clothes wouldn't fit your frame." Victor calmly drifted another five meters away while subtly complimenting the knight's figure.

Jillian’s expression eased slightly, but seeing that Victor had retreated more than ten meters away, she mocked, "As a Silver-rank archer, to be afraid of a noble lady who cannot use her battle aura—your cowardice truly surprises me."

Victor’s heart skipped a beat as he asked, "Miss Chapman, how did you know I am a Silver-rank archer?"

"Ordinary people have no way to kill a Silver-rank monster with a military heavy crossbow, just like your subordinates. I saw it clearly; the bolt you shot was distinctly surrounded by wind elemental energy. Otherwise, even with a sneak attack, you couldn't have killed that ant-man. That is your Wind-Walker talent, right, Viscount Wimbleton?" Jillian said with disdain.

Ignoring Jillian's scornful gaze, Victor felt a wave of relief. The structure of the serium heavy crossbow was similar to that of a military heavy crossbow, and after being coated with green herbal sap, it was hard to distinguish from the outside. It was no surprise that Jillian had such a misconception.

"Miss Chapman, if you hadn't deliberately run toward my soldiers, they might not have been able to kill that ant-man. Also, since you knew it was a Silver-rank monster, why did you expose my soldiers? Don't you think such conduct is despicable?" Victor asked, his face cold.

"In that situation, let alone a few ordinary soldiers, even if it were the Pope, I would have run toward him. If it were you, what would you choose?"

Miss Chapman asked back with righteous indignation, leaving Victor speechless. With one's life hanging by a thread, facing a straw to cling to, who could care about the safety of others? Even if someone could do it, they would have to be a saint capable of overcoming the instinct for survival. Victor knew he couldn't do it himself.

"I saved your life, provided you with shelter and food. By custom, I have the right to demand a reward from your family..."

Jillian interrupted him, saying coldly, "I already gave you a reward, but you chose to decline it. If you regret it, I can give you another chance. I am still pure."

Such an obvious suggestion made Victor’s heart flutter. However, thinking of Jillian’s stats—15 Constitution, 15 Spirit, 15 Perception, and 15 Life elemental affinity—he suppressed his romantic impulses and said righteously, "Miss Chapman, as an unmarried lady, such things could damage your reputation. Let us choose a different form of reward, for example..."

"Fine, it was your own choice to decline," Jillian said, a triumphant smile curling her lips.

Victor exhaled a long breath. Once the stuffiness in his chest had dissipated, he said in a deep voice, "I will dispatch men to escort you back to the Chapman territory."

"I am not leaving!" Jillian rejected Victor’s arrangement with ironclad resolve.

"That won't do. I have already sent a messenger to inform Count Chapman of your situation." Victor’s face darkened as well. He only wanted to send this trouble away so as not to interfere with his plan to wipe out the ant colony.

"My armor and longsword are still in your territory. I will not leave until I have retrieved them," Jillian shook her head. "Or, you can compensate me with eighty thousand gold sols; that equipment was crafted from refined gold and mythril..."

"Miss Chapman, since you are full, please return to the shack and rest. My guards will ensure you are not disturbed."