For the sake of basic social stability, Slenburg and the Golden Feather Palace had been burned to the ground, and the news that Her Highness Princess Felian, the current Slaine Queen, had disappeared had long since been sealed by the Privy Council.
But even if ordinary citizens didn't know, how could the frontline officers at the scene not know?
In fact, shortly after the Battle of Slenburg, portraits of Her Highness Felian had already been sent to all the junior and mid-ranking officers, as well as the senior sergeants.
After all, she was the reigning Elector. Of course they had to do everything they could to rescue her.
After all, she was an underage beauty, and the image of a pitiful princess in need of rescue had been firmly established. Even the most extreme Tiriroan military (meow) national (woof) ist fanatics couldn't bring themselves to say something like, "How could a dignified Elector become a captive? Shouldn't she offer herself to her country?" when faced with such a delicate, adorable young girl.
In short, every Imperial officer who hoped to get ahead had once dreamed of becoming the knight who rescued Her Highness.
And now, the princess had appeared.
Riding on the neck of the dragon that was devouring them.
The commander stared at the scene, dumbfounded, then pieced together an explanation as quickly as he could.
"Vile! Vile and shameless! They're actually using Her Highness as a human shield? They've completely abandoned their humanity!"
"That's right, that's right! The demon dragon is that kind of person? And he still calls himself a liberator?"
"Honor! He himself has trampled on the honor and nobility of the God of War!"
Well, their anger seemed a little misdirected, but no one dared fire a shot.
Two flamewing dragons, a rainbow dragon, a