A Waste of Time-Chapter 48: Skewed Parable

“You two need to loosen up a bit. Jia is here to keep you safe, and Ippo is also there to help when needed. When Ru returns, then it’ll be three people always there to keep watch over this Tigress and its almost harmless Cub all the time. Add me as the fourth person when I’m at the campsite — no need to worry. But if it’s going to make you even more comfortable, then keep your eyes open all the time and call for help if you see it trying to attack you. Just that should be more than enough to put your restless hearts at ease,” Daemon said calmly, gently brushing away little Mei’s fresh tears with his thumb. He patted Xia’s hand next, steadying her trembling fingers.
The two girls looked like they had a million biting words coiled on the tips of their tongues, itching to lash out at Jia, who’d so shamelessly toyed with both their bodies and emotions — but they knew better than to run their mouths at someone who’d twist their embarrassment into an even bigger joke with a flick of her smirk.
When their gazes fell on Daemon, dark with exasperated meaning, the boy just shrugged carelessly and let his eyes flick towards Jia — more than once. They all knew exactly what that look meant:
Reprimand her for us.
But Daemon wasn’t about to get his hands dirty untangling this mess. He wasn’t about to play favorites either — especially when it was clear these three could sort out their petty war without him stepping in.
Snort.
Little Mei’s lips puckered in an exaggerated pout when her watery puppy eyes failed to melt Daemon’s steel heart. She sniffed dramatically, hoping for a shred of sympathy.
“Heh…” Jia just laughed, leaned down, and pinched Mei’s flushed cheek until the girl squeaked.
“Humph!” Mei squealed, slapping the teasing fingers away. She spun around sharply, nose in the air, muttering curses under her breath about certain bullies who deserved to be tickled to death.
Xia stepped forward like a prowling Tigress herself. She caught the mischievous girl from behind, wrapping her arms tight around Jia’s waist and whispering a single, sharp promise into her left ear. “I forgive you.” Then, bold as brass, she gave Jia’s soft backside a deliberate squeeze — making sure Daemon didn’t miss a thing.
Daemon arched an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
Good grief,
he thought dryly.
If they want to settle debts with pinches and grabs, I’m not interfering.
As soon as Xia let go, she spun away on her heel, giggling as she fled the scene of her crime. “I’ll make some tea!” she called over her shoulder, voice sweet but her laughter too sly to be innocent.
Jia’s cheeks flushed crimson. She glared after Xia, tiny fists clenched at her sides. “How dare she!” she hissed. She stomped a foot — hard enough to rattle Mei’s heart with hope.
Mei’s eyes sparkled. She wasn’t about to waste this opening. She lunged at Jia’s side with a squeal of delight, throwing her weight into the fray to help Xia’s escape feel less like a victory and more like the start of a second round.
Ippo, the massive Hound lounging nearby, lifted his shaggy head and watched the squealing girls tumble in a tangle of limbs and squeaks. His tail thumped once on the earth, as if judging whether to leap in or wait until someone called him to referee.
The Tigress cracked open one eye, lazily flicked her tail, then yawned wide enough to flash her fangs before curling tighter around her sleeping Cub. A tickle fight was beneath her notice — unless, of course, someone brought food.
Daemon just chuckled under his breath.
They’ll tire themselves out before the kettle boils.
He spared the wrestling trio one last glance, then turned his attention to the real task waiting by the campfire.
The Aquatic-Boa’s massive body lay coiled in the grass like a glistening coil of armor. Even dead, it exuded an aura of savage beauty. Its scales shimmered in shifting shades of mud-brown and mossy green, perfect for vanishing into the murky shallows and silt at the lake’s bottom — thick enough to deflect an ordinary Swordsman’s blade unless that Swordsman knew exactly where to strike.
Daemon cracked his knuckles and exhaled slowly. He crouched low, adjusted the tight ropes binding the Boa into a neat coil, then lifted it overhead with both hands and rose without so much as a grunt. The weight was nothing — not for him, not anymore.
Asura’s Stats keep growing with every enemy I crush,
he reminded himself.
The Spider Ring, the Death Band, the Life Pendant — each one a piece of strength bought with blood.
Better hurry.
Old man Lou better be willing to handle this Boa — then it’s straight to Nie Leixu’s Smithy.
First day learning how to swing a real Hammer… if I have to shape Iron to do it, so be it. It’s the Hammer that matters.
He set off at a steady jog, boots thudding against the soft earth as the sun slipped behind the canopy and the forest’s shadows swallowed him whole.
“Today’s delivery!” Daemon’s voice boomed across the sunlit market square as he strode in, the massive Aquatic-Boa bound tight with ropes into a neat coil, hoisted high overhead with both hands — never once brushing against his Clothes, as if the filthy world itself had no right to stain him.
A chorus of gasps and stifled shrieks greeted him.
“What in the name of the Ancestors is that?!”
“A snake?”
“No fool, look at those scales — and the fangs! That’s an Aquatic-Boa!”
“I thought those things were a myth!”
“Only if you’ve never left your mother’s basement,” scoffed a burly man near the fishmonger’s stall. He stepped closer, scratching his chin. “That’s no hatchling either. Judging by the muddy shades of its hide, it was close to molting — ready to shed, grow, maybe even form a Beast Core.”
A wrinkled elder leaned heavily on his walking stick, eyes wide as coins. “A Beast Core…” he rasped. “I’ve seen one once. When I was dragged to the Northwestern salt flats of the Golden-Lion Kingdom as a boy. Our ship nearly split in half when a black Aquatic-Boa rose out of the Southeastern Sea — its body big enough to block the sun. A woman in crimson robes rode its crown like a throne carved of living scales.”
Someone laughed nervously. “And did it talk?”
“It would have,” the elder whispered. “If it had finished forming its Beast Core — then it’d be a Spirit Beast. Words, wisdom, maybe even Wings if the Bloodline was strong enough.”
Silence rippled through the gawking crowd. Daemon ignored them all. He locked eyes on old man Lou, who stepped out from behind the heavy wooden door of his meat shop, wiping his hands on a stained apron. The older man’s eyes lit up when they dropped to the Boa’s gleaming, mud-brown hide.
“Young Master Da Niu,” Lou said, clearing his throat as his eyes flicked from the coiled Aquatic-Boa to Daemon’s unreadable face. “Always bringing surprises.”
Daemon cocked his head slightly, studying the older man’s shifting eyes. “Well… are you even interested in buying this thing?” he asked, his tone dry but curious. For a heartbeat, he wondered if dragging this creature out of the depths had been worth the trouble at all — for all he knew it might not even be edible.
Lou’s grin cracked wider than his caution could hide. “Interested enough to clear half my shop for it — I’ll take care of everything, Young Master Da Niu.”
Daemon gave him a flat nod.
Good.
Saves me the trouble of deciding what to do with it.
That’s enough.
He let the Boa settle at his feet with a dull, heavy
thud
and dusted off his hands. He didn’t spare a second glance at the coiled carcass — his mind already drifting to something far more important.
He didn’t linger. The market buzzed louder as curious villagers pressed close to inspect the Boa’s rugged hide — but Daemon was already striding to the edge of the stalls, drawn by the splash of color that was Qiu’s stand.
Once pathetic, now it hummed with life. Shelves of Tunics, Weatherproof Cloaks, even a few sets of Traveling Boots lined neat racks. Two new apprentices scrambled behind Qiu, stacking folded piles, collecting coppers, handing back change with nervous bows.
Qiu caught Daemon’s eye, her smile blooming like dawn. “Young Master Da Niu! See all this? This is all your doing! Thank you so much.”
He shrugged. “Only the push. You’re the one doing the pulling.”
He leaned closer, voice low but direct. “Next step — Mannequins. Hollow, light, different shapes. Whole bodies and parts — torsos, arms, legs. Show people how the Clothes cling to the shoulder, the cut on the hip. The more they see, the more they buy.”
Qiu’s quill froze mid-ledger. She scribbled furiously. “Yes. Yes! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because you didn’t need to,” Daemon said, stepping back. “That’s what I’m here for.”
He lifted a hand in farewell, eyes drifting past her to Lou’s men now wrestling the Boa’s bulk through the meat shop’s wide door. When they stumbled, a few villagers laughed — until one man slipped and nearly took a fang through the boot.
It’s good to see these people having fun,
Daemon thought, then shook his head and refocused on the next task on today’s list, feeling that familiar heat coil low in his chest — the same heat that would soon strike Iron in Nie Leixu’s Smithy.
I’ll swing that Hammer my way — and nothing else matters.
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