Chapter 48 I really want to eat. Animal heads are obviously cute.
Stepping into the Frostclaw Forest, Ashlin's body temperature recovered to a quarter of its normal level, but she still felt half-dead.
There was no snow in the woods except on the treetops, and the roads were fairly clean. The torches on the cedar trees and the campfire in front of the house made her feel a little more alive.
Only a little, because she was too hungry.
She was so hungry she couldn't even feel it anymore. Her stomach was growling and twisting, writhing and throbbing, trying to create pain to get her attention, leaving her with only one thought in her mind: to eat something. Even Lucas looked a bit like a walking loaf of black bread.
The magic she had just cast on the pine tree and the illusion she had created to impersonate Ray had indeed weakened her, but the feeling of being truly "drained" seemed to have nothing to do with those two spells. It might have been due to hunger and cold, she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"Hold on a little longer," she told herself. "It's not that hard. That's how the protagonists in those stories came to be."
Ray took a mirror out of her pouch, examined her face covered by the illusion, looked at it repeatedly, and then sighed in disappointment.
"Sigh! I'm not as handsome as I used to be."
Lucas, displeased: "Sorry?"
Ashlin grinned. Ray was indeed a very majestic leopard; he, a mere kitten, had no comparison.
Ray stared at the mirror, mesmerized. "This magic is really interesting! If only I could cast a spell like that..."
“…You’ll definitely be stealing everywhere. Okay, now you can pretend to be any cat-person you want,” Ashley said.
“Fantastic,” Lucas muttered, “my reputation is ruined.”
Ray laughed heartily.
“Haha, don’t worry, little prince. We’ve never seen your face, and you have no reputation here.” She straightened her clothes. “Come on, help look after my sick brother, and then you can go see the high priest.”
Treehouses and tree holes are everywhere, and some house frames seem to be built with reindeer antlers. The roofs and walls are covered with large pieces of birch bark and pine wood, layered on top of each other and secured with soaked tree roots.
Several trees were covered with eye-catching posters depicting a hideous, ferocious woman with leopard ears.
Ray Mara
Bounty 200 silver
"The artist has truly captured your essence," Lucas commented, earning him a roll of the eyes from Ray.
"Ray...why are you wanted?" Ashlin asked curiously.
"Good heavens, do all human witches have this many problems?"
"Not necessarily, I think I'm one of the more annoying types."
Ray stared at Ashlin for a moment, then shrugged.
“I stole something,” she said casually.
Lucas chuckled. "I guessed it. I heard my wallet calling from you."
“Can I know what it is?” Ashlin asked.
"I'm afraid not."
"Is it related to that dwarf Nova?"
Ray gave her a sharp look. "Perhaps."
"You stole Nova's things?" Ashlin asked in surprise. "Then why are the orcs after you? Shouldn't it be the dwarves who are after you? Nova has been to Coldpaw Forest?"
Ray scratched the leopard's ear: "You have too many questions, little witch. I can't answer them all at once."
“You have four ears, and I asked four questions, which is just right,” Ashlin pointed out.
Ray thought back for a moment.
“I am not anyone’s beloved prince,” Lucas protested, but no one paid him any attention.
“The wreath is only part of the process of breaking the curse,” Ashlin admitted. This time, she didn’t reveal the whole story.
"More orcs than humans?" Lucas asked. "Oh, she meant Greta!"
What is Greta?
"Orcs can be divided into two types. Orcs like Ray with human faces and animal features are called Greta, which means 'demi-human' in the orc language; while orcs with animal heads are called Noreira, which means 'pure beast'."
Ashlin understood immediately.
"So, why do the Noreira participate in the trials, wear the wreaths, and use the power of the wreaths to transform themselves into Greta? Why?"
“Because of this damn biased world that favors humans,” Ray said. “Everyone wants to make themselves look like humans. Your kitten should be able to turn back into a human with cat ears after you put on the flower crown.”
"But can that lift the curse? I mean, turn Prince Lucas back into a human completely?"
“I have never heard of a wreath being able to lift any curse; that would probably require much more powerful magic. The wreath is the work of the High Priest, who creates a unique wreath for the victor based on the characteristics of the trial participant, granting the victor the power of repair and improvement. The transformation from Noreira to Greta is an example of ‘improvement’.”
Ray stopped and looked at her thoughtfully.
Along the way, the beastmen looked at them with curiosity, sniffing around: a witch in a big hat, a black cat, and a cat-man with a greenish glow, but they quickly lost interest.
Everyone was busy with their own things. A family of fox-headed Norira orcs gossiped in front of a tree hollow, while two strong bears arm wrestled on a tree stump, with many little bear children cheering them on.
The Gretas, whose heads have animal features, wear thicker, more ornate clothing, usually made of animal hides; while the Noriras, whose heads have beasts, wear thinner, simpler clothing, mostly linen.
At the back of the line... Ashlin didn't see it.
It seems this is what Ray said before.
If they also join the queue, Lucas's curse will likely be further aggravated before they even get to the front of the line.
Ray in Lucas form stopped in front of an extremely dilapidated little treehouse. It was crooked and frail, as if it would fall apart at the slightest touch. A blanket and a deer bone wind chime hung on the door of the treehouse, and were carved with a picture of a leopard and an open book.
Ray took a deep breath, raised her hand, then lowered it, then raised it again and knocked on the door.
There was no movement.
She knocked again, this time harder, and some snowflakes fell from the roof.
The door opened, revealing a furry leopard head, glaring fiercely at them.
Ashlin blinked in surprise.
Leopard Head? But Ray... Ray is a Greta, and her family should be too. Maybe she has a genetic mutation.
"I don't drink milk, get out."
He slammed the door shut.
Ray glanced around warily before whispering through the crack in the door, "Dad, it's me, Ray Mara. This is an illusion."
Then the door opened again. Mr. Mara examined the three of them once more.
“You’re not welcome here,” he said curtly.
“I didn’t expect to be welcomed by you,” Ray said. “I came for Billy.”
"Hey, do you want some food?" Ashlin's stomach suddenly said angrily.
"Shut up," she retorted.
Damn it, do you want to starve to death? My stomach is cursing, you're practically a dried-up corpse now.
But I can't just ask for food! She replied, managing to take a few steps. Actually, her stomach was right; she was truly starving, and feared she wouldn't even be able to move her legs in a moment. Lucas was probably just as hungry, but he had been lying on her shoulder like a scarf, conserving his energy by not having to walk.
Mr. Mara then reluctantly let them into the house.
Ashlin had expected a warm embrace. She was wrong. It was indeed warmer inside than outside, but still chilly. The windows were shut, the curtains drawn tight, and the little sunlight filtering through the trees dared not penetrate.
It's hard to call this a family home. The house is dilapidated and small, suffocatingly cramped. The ceiling is so low it looks like it might collapse at any moment, the oil lamp wobbles precariously, its thin cord a cause for concern; a table, a bookcase, three chairs, three beds, and a fireplace without firewood fill the space to the brim.
All the furniture was in its most rudimentary and hastily arranged form; it was nothing but furniture. Only the portrait above the fireplace indicated that people still lived here. It should have been a family of four, but there were only three leopard-men; Ray's face had been painted over.
The ground and table were covered in dust, and Ashlin suddenly felt like she had developed rhinitis, sneezing incessantly. She even considered going back outside; at least the woods had some life.
On the innermost bed lay another orc with a leopard's head, his breathing accompanied by a terrifying creaking sound, as if his throat was filled with flies.
"Cough cough...cough cough..." The orc coughed, then continued to breathe heavily.
"God, what's wrong with him?" Seeing him like this, Ashlin felt a tickle in her throat, as if something was crawling on it.
“What’s it to you?” Mr. Mara gave her a sinister look. “Ray, explain before I run out of patience and throw you out the window.”
Ashley doubted his ability to do it because the windows in the room were too small.
“This is the witch Ashlyn and her cat. Ashlyn, and this is my father, Andrew Mara,” Ray introduced. “Ashlyn helped me disguise myself so I could get in.”
"This human girl?" The leopard looked her over suspiciously. "She knows illusion magic at such a young age, huh?"
“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Ashlyn extended a hand, but Mr. Mara did not shake it.
The leopard tilted its head, its eyes seemingly veiled in a misty haze, its dark circles resembling stage makeup.
Ray raised an eyebrow, while Lucas tensed up: "What did you say?!"
Mr. Mara remained expressionless, his paw twitching as if he wanted to touch his face, but he restrained himself. His dark golden eyes stared at her for a long time, so long that Ashlin thought he was about to erupt in fury and actually throw her out the window.
"You really think so?" Mr. Mara suddenly asked, "My markings...?"
“Of course. They’re unique! You don’t see patterns like that on human faces.” Ashlin pointed to her own face. “We even have to do some extra drawing on our faces when we go to parties.”
Mr. Mara was silent for a moment, then snorted fiercely, and with heavy steps, poured them three cups of wild plum tea.
"Drink it and then get out," he said.
Ashlin eagerly took a few sips, Lucas licked his lips carefully, and Ray didn't touch them. The leopard girl leaned against the corner of the wall, half her face hidden in the shadows.
"Dad, how have you been lately?"
Mr. Mara wouldn't even spare her a glance. "Terrible, all thanks to you. The market fees for Norira have gone up again, and the orcs think I have a bad reputation, so I haven't sold a single book I bought. Your actions have shamed me."
"I just did what everyone wanted to do."
"Ha, did we used to have a good relationship with the dwarves?"
"Cough cough cough cough..." The leopard man on the bed coughed again.
“The doctor said the problem lies in his lungs,” Mr. Mara said, “but nothing seems to work. Did you find anything from the clue I gave you last time?”
Ashlin pricked up her ears. A clue?
“No,” Ray replied, “but I found this little witch who might be able to heal Billy with magic. She’s here to participate in the trial, and I promised that if she heals Billy, you’ll take her to the High Priest.”
Mr. Mara pushed the table aside, furious: "No way! When did I agree to that? Magic won't work."
"How do you know without even trying?"
He gave Ashlin a cold look: "How much can a teenager understand magic? I think we should stop torturing Billy. He's gotten himself into this state because he spends all his time studying that useless magic."
Ashlin pouted.
Billy's symptoms were very similar to Lucas's; both had lung problems and coughs. Since she cured Lucas with Sanova's healing spell, she could cure Billy if she didn't mispronounce it.
“Sir, I know quite a bit about magic,” Ashlin said. “I’ve been learning from healers since I was a child. I’ve seen Billy’s symptoms before, and I’m very confident I can cure him.”
Mr. Mara’s tail lashed out like a whip. He stood up abruptly, his tall frame casting a shadow over them.
Ashlin suppressed her urge to run away and met his gaze.
“Quite the boast! Listen, witch, I didn’t ask you for help, mind your own business! Magic has long lost its power in the North,” he turned around, grabbed the family portrait, and waved his arms wildly. “My wife was bitten by a snake, and it was a magician who misused the spell; the venom didn’t dissipate but was amplified, killing her! Get out of here, witch. I’ve accepted Billy’s situation, and you’d better accept the fact that you can’t participate in the trial. You can’t even get into the high priest’s line, let alone qualify for the trial, let alone pass it.”
Ashlinn also stood up, looked up at him to look him in the eye, ignoring his explanation of the trial and the rumbling in his stomach.
“I’m sorry to hear this. But I’m not the magician you’re talking about. I can heal Billy. It’s just a matter of a spell; I won’t make a mistake. And even if something does go wrong, I swear to the forest goddess, I will fix it.”
Mr. Mara bared his teeth and let out a low growl.
“That goddess has abandoned me for a long time; swearing an oath to her is useless. You’d better have a more convincing oath.”
“Very well, then I swear in the name of my adoptive father,” Ashlin said immediately.
Mr. Mara stared at her, the force of his tail slapping gradually diminishing. He finally made way.
Ashlin came to Billy's bedside, raised her staff, cleared her throat, and gathered magic in her palm and the green fluorite. However, the magic felt as empty as her stomach.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine soon,” Ashley said.
She could complete the treatment. She had sworn an oath in the name of Sanova. If she failed this time, she would have no chance to see the High Priest. What did hunger matter?
Yes. She hoped Billy was healthy, and that the leopard family could live a comfortable life, just like she and Sanova. Seeing their ivy-covered home in Foxtail Bay filled her with warmth, and all her hunger vanished.
She wanted to change Mr. Mara's prejudice against magic. Magic is wonderful; magic is a true miracle.
Suddenly, she felt a deeper power flowing from her soul.
“Corpus sur per lumen felīnum,” she murmured hoarsely.
The strength was gone, replaced by exhaustion, just like that day in the tavern.
"Food!" her stomach complained again. "Rice!"
Her vision went black, and her head fell to the floor.
Before losing consciousness, she thought, at least this time she recited the spell correctly.
Author's Note: This chapter has been revised.
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