High School of Demon Hunting-Chapter 1473 - 217: Just Surviving Is Good Enough

As the young hunters of the Absolution Hunting Team, under the coordination of Furry Bean, sought the traces of their companions.

In the heart of the Enchanting Forest, a few unexpected guests were receiving the hospitality of the entire tribe inhabiting the camp enclosed by the Gigantic Stone ’City Wall’, which belonged to the Zu Ges.

Yes, hospitality.

Realizing that the large army of the Enchanting Mice couldn’t so much as scratch those red-eyed female demons, the elders of the Zu Ge tribe immediately chose to surrender.

They beat their chests, promising tributes to the three guests.

Just as they did to the cats in the city of Wusa.

A Zu Ge, holding an oak bark bowl, crawled respectfully and presented it to the guests.

The bowl contained a clear, greenish liquid, a tribute concocted from tree sap and mushroom juice. This sap was extracted from an unusual oak tree which, according to myths, grew from a seed cast down from the moon by a being from the Deeps of Starry Sky, and after growing into a large tree, it began providing the Zu Ge tribe with their most precious delicacy.

Nikita showed no interest in the tributes of the Enchanting Mice; she kept her gaze fixed on the little witch in tattered clothes.

Soap bubbles are beautiful, but they burst so easily.

The female demon took a blank sketchbook from the little witch and flipped through it. The images on the pages had lost their colors, leaving behind only blank outlines. A bit of black ash remained between the pages.

Nikita pinched some ash between her fingers and sniffed it under her nose.

Her eyes flickered slightly.

She, who hailed from North Beta Town, could easily distinguish that the ash came from matches with intense hallucinogenic power. These matches were once the most sought-after commodity in the North District, with many petty Tricksters who couldn’t afford extravagant food or luxurious houses longing for one, to fulfill their desires in the dream realm.

The effect of these matches was even stronger in Dreamland.

The ash, the blank patterns on the sketchbook, the little witch’s ragged gown, her pale face, and even the faint, inviting sweet scent on her body all pointed to many issues.

"What is your name?"

The female demon’s voice was gentle, her eyes shining bright, like two rubies under the sunshine. The little witch’s struggles to survive in Dreamland brought back many memories to her, some seemingly distant, yet in reality not far from her own past.

"Zhu... Zhu."

The little witch’s voice was slow, her eyes vacant, and as she replied, her voice was somewhat slurred, her hands nervously twisting together as her sketchbook and mirror were taken. But her gaze remained fixed on the small oak bark bowl.

The Zu Ge crawling on the ground heard the little witch’s swallow clearly.

It joyfully raised its arms even higher.

"My name is Zhuzhu," answered a crisp and lively voice beside Nikita: "Pleased to meet you! Want to play together?"

The female demon glanced sideways.

No Face next to her had, at some point, put away her makeup and revealed a face identical to that of the little witch. In her hands, she held the little mirror of the little witch, looking at it with delight.

Unlike the little witch, No Face wore a clean, pretty gown and her little leather shoes were polished. Her eyes were bright and animated, and even her little mouth would unconsciously purse when she spoke, adding a touch of cuteness.

The most striking feature on the entire face was that little mouth.

Nikita shifted her gaze away.

"Why have you come here?" she continued to ask the shabbily dressed ’Zhuzhu’.

"Looking for... mommy... and daddy." The little witch stared at the bowl of turquoise liquid, swallowing a small gulp of saliva, her fingers white from the intertwining of unease and strain.

Nikita took the bark bowl from Zu Ge’s claws and stuffed it into the hands of the little witch.

The turquoise fluid in the bowl gently swayed, giving off an enticing scent. A few strands of messy hair fell from the side of the little witch’s face, almost dropping into the bowl.

"Drink slowly."

The female demon comforted by patting the little witch’s head, parted her fingers to comb her hair, lifting those fallen strands behind her ear, while repeating the earlier question: "Do you still remember... why you came here?"

Although the same sentence was repeated, the underlying meaning subtly differed.

The little witch cocked her head, hesitating for a moment.

"Daddy... likes mice." That was how she replied.

Nikita glanced at the shadowy brown figures nearby, a flash of realization in her heart.

The always quiet Zu Ge crawling at her feet finally couldn’t help but lift its head, patting its chest with its paws to signify ’We are not mice!’—This was not about right or wrong, but about the tribal dignity of the Zu Ge.

Nikita gave the Zu Ge on the ground a glance, a fleeting red gleam in her pupils.

The Zu Ge protesting for tribal dignity didn’t make a sound before it was snuffed out by that dash of red gleam. Immediately, a few strong Zu Ge rushed in, dragged the corpse of the deceased away, and retreated.

The whole process was swift and silent.

The Elders of the Zu Ge tribe promptly dispatched new sacrificers, offering new gifts.

The same oak bark bowls and the same kind of turquoise liquid.

"Who is your daddy?" The female demon turned away with a touch of boredom, continuing to chat with the little witch, as though she had just squashed an annoying mosquito.

"Daddy... is just... daddy." Zhuzhu sipped the green liquid in the bark bowl quietly, replying softly. The rich magic power nourished her body with the offering, slowly adding a hint of rosiness to her pale face, her eyes also became a little more spirited.

Then, she finally noticed the eyes of the female demon.

"You... Red Eyes?!" The little witch revealed some unease in her eyes, her face showing a struggle: "Red Eyes, not good."

Nikita smiled gently, and stroked her head again.

"Surviving is what matters," she said soothingly, repeating the phrase: "The color of the eyes doesn’t matter, surviving is what matters... Do you know, in the Creeks of Kled, there’s a type of Monarch Shadow Grass, whose flower is called the Lily of the Valley. The Zitl call it Spring Herald Flower."

"This flower is delicate, with an enchanting fragrance. Though it grows in the perpetual darkness, it blooms unrestrained, and it bears beautiful red fruits... Though the fruits born from darkness are poisonous, in the end, they are beautiful, real fruits."

"So, the color of the eyes doesn’t matter."

"Surviving is what matters."

Although Zhuzhu’s complexion improved after drinking the bowl of turquoise potion, she didn’t fully recover. The witch’s remarks, filled with metaphorical meanings and implications, were not fully understood by her.

So she listened somewhat blankly.

The only thing she understood was that the beautiful elder sister before her didn’t want her to mind the red eyes, that red eyes could be good too. Surviving was also good.