I became the slime toy of the evil dragon girl?

The evening breeze blew from the Emerald Hills, carrying the unique fragrance of herbs.

Rongrong squatted by the edge of the herb field, gently poking at the soil with a small stick to examine the roots and stems of the herbs.

The moment her fingers touched the soil, she could feel a plant, about the thickness of a thumb, quietly growing beneath. This was a magic potion-growing technique passed down through generations of the rabbit people; they could tell whether a herb was growing well just by touching it.

"Sister Rongrong!"

I heard light footsteps behind me.

Rongrong turned around and saw several small heads peeking out from behind the wooden house.

The youngest one, Qiuqiu, is only two years old. Her ears are still drooping softly, and she is clutching a handful of wildflowers she just picked.

"You guys are slacking off again!" Rongrong said sternly, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up.

Qiuqiu ran over and shoved the wildflowers into her hands: "Here, sister! When Daddy comes back, he'll be so happy to see the medicinal herb garden that Rongrong planted!"

Rongrong rubbed his head, the tips of his ears were slightly hot.

Not far away, several elderly people sat on stones in front of a wooden house, weaving baskets, their withered fingers deftly weaving through the vines. They chatted as they worked, occasionally letting out a few laughs or snickers. Smoke rose from the rooftops of several houses, mingling with the faint aroma of herbs wafting from the drying sheds, swirling in the setting sun.

An old woman walked over from the other end of the alley, leaning on her cane and carrying a ceramic bowl. "Rongrong, try this. It's freshly made radish soup with some blue crystal grass flowers added. It's good for replenishing qi and blood."

Rongrong took the bowl, and the steaming heat of the soup hit her face.

She took a sip, and the warmth slid from her throat all the way down to her stomach.

"Grandma, shouldn't my dad be back today?"

"It'll be ready soon." The old woman smiled, her eyes narrowing. "Our Rongrong's medicinal herb garden is so beautiful. When your father comes back, he'll praise you to no end."

Rongrong looked down at the lush green herb field, thinking to herself: When Dad comes back, I'll take him to see this newly cultivated three-acre plot, planted with the most valuable Blue Crystal Grass. In two more months, it will be harvested, and the money will be enough to make new clothes for Qiuqiu and the others, a new walking stick for Grandma, and more…

Ugh!

A sharp bugle call suddenly rang out.

The setting sun in the west burned blood red, dyeing the sky there a dazzling color.

But even more dazzling than the setting sun were the dark figures that suddenly rushed into the tribe—horse riders, armored figures, and those wielding swords and knives.

"Human private soldiers! They are human private soldiers!"

Shouts came from the entrance to the village, followed by screams.

The soup bowl in Rongrong's hand fell to the ground and shattered.

She picked up Qiuqiu and ran towards the cabin, behind her came the sound of horses' hooves, the clanging of metal, and... the muffled thud of something falling to the ground.

"Get inside! Hide well!" She shoved the ball into the cellar of the cabin and covered the lid with a straw mat. "No matter what you hear, don't come out!"

"Sister Rongrong..."

"good!"

She closed the cellar door and ran outside.

She didn't know where to run. Her father hadn't returned yet, her grandmother was still in the old house at the village entrance, and the blue crystal grass in the medicinal herb field had just been watered…

She ran past the corner of the wooden house and saw the old woman.

The old woman lay in a pool of blood.

Those ever-smiling eyes were still open, gazing at the sky, their pupils dilated. Her hand was still outstretched in a certain direction, as if reaching for something. The earthenware bowl that held the radish soup was broken beside her, the soup mingling with the dirt and blood.

Her velvety legs went weak.

She held onto the wall and walked forward step by step.

She walked past the overturned basket of herbs and the trampled blue crystal grass seedlings.

She walked past Qiuqiu's father, the robust rabbit-man who had smiled and told her yesterday, "My Qiuqiu has been naughty again, hasn't she?"—and found his corpse.

His body lay twisted in the middle of the road like a discarded rag, his eyes still open and his mouth agape as if he were about to shout something, but nothing came out.

"Don't move!"

A sharp sound rang out.

Rongrong looked in the direction of the sound and saw that in the open space in the center of the tribe, the tribespeople were being herded into a pile. The old and the young, crying and shouting, were being pointed at with swords and whipped by the armored humans.

A person wearing a long robe stood in the center of the open space.

The man was very thin, his face was like dried tree bark, his eye sockets were deep-set, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

He had bottles and jars hanging from his waist, and several rings on his fingers, the gems on the rings glittering in the firelight.

Alchemist.

Rongrong had heard her father talk about the most terrifying kind of humans. Everyone who walks this path is someone whose humanity is hard to maintain.

"Hmm..." The alchemist slowly walked around the tribesmen who had been herded into a pile, his gaze sweeping over each person's face as if he were looking at some kind of merchandise.

He stopped in front of a young rabbit-man and reached out to pinch the man's ear. The rabbit-man trembled with fear, but was held down by the soldiers behind him and could not move.

The alchemist nodded, as if appraising a piece of fabric: "These ears are nice. The down is fine, the color is pure; if they were made into a scarf... the Viscount would probably like them."

He waved.

A soldier stepped forward, clutching a short knife in his hand.

"No!" the young rabbit-man screamed.

The knife falls.

Blood splattered all over the people next to him.

Rongrong covered her mouth to stop herself from making a sound.

That was Amu, the Amu who had helped her fetch water to irrigate the fields yesterday. His ear had been completely cut off, and it lay limply in the dust. He collapsed, and the soldiers kicked him aside like a sack of potatoes.

The alchemist took the bloody ear, examined it against the setting sun for a while, and then stuffed it into the leather pouch at his waist with satisfaction.

He continued walking, continued looking, and continued pointing.

"This one has a missing piece on its left ear, so it's not in good condition. Send it to the mine."

"These females, the young ones, are all being sent to the royal auction house. The governor of the Eastern Territory said that lately, those noble lords have taken a liking to these furry little creatures."

"That old one? It's useless, get rid of it."

With each one pointed at, a member of the tribe was dragged out. Some were held down and had their ears or rabbit tails cut off, some had their hands tied behind their backs and were stuffed into iron cages and carriages, and some were stabbed through with a knife.

Rongrong huddled in the corner, trembling all over.

She wanted to run, to rush out and save them, but her legs felt like lead.

She could only watch as those familiar faces were locked in iron cages or lay in pools of blood.

"what?"

The alchemist suddenly stopped.

He looked at a rabbit-woman holding a baby in the crowd. Rongrong recognized her; she was Qiuqiu's mother, holding a baby rabbit only a few months old.

"This little rascal is quite good." The alchemist narrowed his eyes, as if he had spotted some rare material. "A pure rabbit-human cub, excellent material for alchemical experiments. Extracting a little spinal fluid will yield potions that can fetch a high price."

The rabbit-woman mother suddenly knelt down: "Please! Please spare him! He's still so young..."

The alchemist ignored her and simply nodded to the soldier beside him.

The soldier walked over and snatched the child away.

The sound of a child crying rang out.

then……

A flash of light.

The crying stopped.

The small body was held in mid-air, its limbs hanging limply, blood dripping down from the wound and onto the soil.

The rabbit-woman paused for a second, then let out a scream that sounded inhuman.

The soldier knocked her unconscious with a punch, followed by the sound of fabric tearing and several savage laughs filled with undisguised lust...

……