Franca Core Region.
Saint Laurent Palace.
Unlike the instance scene Liana had just seen—the oppressive, gray, decaying Firelink Shrine steeped in despair—
Everything here was pristine white marble and dazzling gilded ornamentation. The soaring dome was set with vibrant stained-glass mosaics, and sunlight streamed through them, bathing the broad corridors in a sacred, solemn glow. Along both sides of the hallways, exquisite murals recorded Franca's past glory.
But Liana had no mind to admire any of it.
Like a gale, she swept through the magnificent corridors. She did not even have time to greet the grim-faced royal guards along the way before rushing straight toward the deepest part of the palace.
Bang!
Soon, Liana reached her destination. She shoved open the gilded doors at the end of the corridor and charged directly into the princess's bedchamber.
The bedchamber was spacious, but not luxurious. If anything, it seemed rather plain, and the air carried a faint fragrance of incense.
Before the broad floor-to-ceiling windows stood a tall, voluptuous figure.
She was a mature woman in an exquisite gown, with waterfall-like black hair and a pair of gently twitching fox ears atop her head.
She was Princess Rosalind, second on Franca's battle merits ranking and the true pillar of Franca at present.
Hearing the rough sound of the door being flung open—
Rosalind furrowed her lovely brows and turned around, revealing an incomparably beautiful face graced with mature charm and natural allure.
Yet at that moment, her brows were shadowed by inescapable sorrow and exhaustion.
After all, following their loss in the arena battle, Franca's morale was on the verge of collapse, and nearly all the Heavy Burden rested on her shoulders.
"Liana?"
Seeing the girl panting heavily, drenched in sweat, with even her dog ears standing on end, a trace of