The Villain Princess survived the Imperial Riot

"I don't know, Your Highness, I'm stupid... I'm sorry..." Iyana's eyes were filled with guilt.

If the princess were still alive, would His Highness be different?

"I want you to know who you're loyal to, rather than living in a daze in a fantasy woven by a dead man." Hestia stared at Iyana with sharp eyes. It was hard for her to imagine that a maid of the rank of a master of the mystic sect could be so weak. She said sternly, "You must be loyal to me, or you will guard her mausoleum until you die."

Iyana's pupils contracted, and she shuddered and shook her head: "I promised her to take care of you forever... and Your Highness, she is your mother, you don't want..."

"Follow me, or guard her tomb." His tone left no room for doubt.

"I..." Iyana gritted her teeth and finally said weakly, "I have always been your servant."

"laugh."

Hestia dropped her grip and fell back onto Iyanna's knees. She could feel the elf's skin contract in nervous tremors, but she paid no attention to it.

"I have always trusted your loyalty. It is precisely because we have figured it out that we are now riding in the same carriage again."

Hestia closed her eyes and murmured, "For this I will forgive your petty claims, just as Viola Ryland made her own. Whatever your purpose is, it is not important. What matters is your loyalty to me."

"I would never betray Your Highness!"

“Including questioning.”

"..." Iyana was silent for a moment, then said softly, "I am willing to sacrifice my life for Your Highness."

"But I can't let you wield a butcher knife against the untouchables, can I?"

"..."

"Aunt Iyana," Hestia sighed softly, "You are a noble lady of the Star-Moon Clan, a star spirit who is as light as dust. It must be painful for you to be with a butcher like me, destined to be one. Isn't it?"

"...Nothing."

Is Your Highness concerned about her?

Iyana took a breath and remained silent.

"But you must participate, otherwise, your kindness and weakness may become a lead bullet shot at my brow." Hestia sighed, "I asked you to guard her tomb, not because I was heartbroken, but because I hope you will not be held hostage by the fleeting illusion. You can leave at any time and live for yourself."

"...I'm sorry, Iyana, for putting Your Highness in a difficult position." The elf carefully smoothed the wrinkles on Hestia's shirt, as if she had made up her mind. "I don't have a home. Wherever Your Highness is is my home. If Your Highness truly needs me, then I... then I will do my best to help." She paused, then continued, "Even if it means killing someone."

The "killing" they mentioned obviously did not only refer to enemies. If that were the case, Iyana would not have had to worry about their differences in ideas for several years.

Unarmed civilians, the elderly, women and children, as long as they are a threat to the tower, will be turned into skeletons under the butcher's knife.

"Hee, I knew you would stand by me."

Hestia cupped Iyana's face and kissed it upwards.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty...!"

Iyana didn't hide, she was immersed in a panic-stricken happiness, as if thirty years of attachment had suddenly overwhelmed her soul.

"There's an order of rank, but once you get out of this carriage, there won't be any more," Hestia smiled, her understanding of the maid's submissive nature all too clear.

A secret cultivator in the realm of grasping the image who could fight against hundreds of armored knights, actually chose to die for the so-called justice in the end. If he wasn't a ten-thousand-year-old Ninja Turtle, he wouldn't have such a miserable ending.

Hestia was being too flattering. If she were a maid, what about the Bloody Duke? Did you hear about the secret technique I learned from the Cocoon Sisterhood, which allows me to transform from a chrysalis into a butterfly?

But she is now a princess, so that’s a different matter.

Iyana is like a sword sealed by rust, and the blade can only be sharpened after being polished.

Hestia ignored Iyana's changing color and asked, "Tell me about that little dead thing. What did you see?"

"I'm not sure. He had lost all vital signs, but his organs still retained excess 'vitality'. This seems like a form of mental cultivation," Iyana explained hesitantly. "If it wasn't the mental cultivation of the Royal Medical College, I'm worried that if His Highness pursues this issue forcefully, it will implicate many more..."

Heart cultivation is the esoteric practice of following the Eternal Path. Just as the symbol of the Path of Order in Dream Realm is a towering tower, when esoteric practitioners of the Eternal Path roam Dream Realm, they often see a vast sphere with a pale, extended surface, an unpredictable mind, and an ever-growing root system. This sphere, eternally pulsating, immersed in an endless sea of ​​orange-red blood, is considered the rhythm of a heart, nourishing the vitality of Dream Realm.

Therefore, the eternal path is regarded as the path of epidermal survival, symbolizing the regeneration and continuation of things.

The Divine Emperor is involved in eternal authority, and this is where the High Knight’s confidence in facing a cannon comes from.

However, the understanding of the Path differed profoundly between the mystics of different factions, and the symbolism of spiritual roots was not eternal. Hestia remembered that after the tower's fall, more than one myth coveted the power of the God-Emperor. One of them collected the tower's fragments and reforged the Scales, briefly transforming the "Path of Order" into the newly born "Path of Balance."

"Is someone using corpses for esoteric research?" Hestia fell into deep thought and began to recall the esoteric factions related to the dead.

"It could be a cure. 'Vitality' can save lives, but if the child was already weak and couldn't handle the 'vitality', that's perfectly normal. It doesn't necessarily mean it was done out of malice. We'll have to dissect the body to find out." Iyana shook her head and explained, "Your Highness, an on-the-spot investigation would yield no results, and the residents and police officers of that alley would undoubtedly suffer..."

"So you won't do anything? What if there really is a necromancer causing trouble in secret?"

"I'll wait until late at night and then investigate alone." Iyana whined like a dog that had broken a vase, looking apologetic as if expecting punishment. "I'm sorry, Your Highness..."

"Investigating alone late at night?" Hestia said with a smile, "So that the assassin can sneak in and have a head-to-head duel with me?"

"Then I won't go..."

"Let's go together." Hestia tapped the maid's head with her cane. The sound was crisp and there was no bruise. "And by the way, let's see what the city under the throne of the God-Emperor looks like at night."

"Ah."

Iyana nodded without arguing.

As for the princess's safety...

Group "Chat my wings ⑦ ⑻ sw 〥 zero starting 锍仪

It is indeed safer to be by her side than to be guarded by the iron army of Yunting Villa.

The carriage had a safe journey.

It should have been a bleak winter season, but the holly trees in Yunting Villa were still green. When they heard the sound of horse hooves, the servants outside the courtyard stood far away, watching the wheel tracks disappear into the distance.

There are so many servants in Yunting Villa that they can form a small town. Just the griffins, magic tigers, wolf dragons, and golden pythons raised by the princess require dozens of people to take care of them. A drama troupe of more than a hundred people is on standby at all times. If the princess wants to see blood one day, there are retainers who have been raised for a thousand days to serve as gladiators.

In addition, there are hundreds of Iron Guard masters. They only stand guard and kill people, and servants take care of their food, clothing, and shelter. However, generally speaking, the knights' squires are responsible for this... In this way, the number of servants who take care of the squires has increased.

The outer court servants probably only know how heavy the mountain is that weighs on their heads.

Beyond that high wall is Hestia's bedroom.

The princess dozed off with her head resting on Iyana's knee-length skirt, her consciousness immersed in the wordless book.

As her consciousness left her body, the scenes she could see changed.

Neither dream nor reality is true.

And ⑴ is the intersection of the cage built by the nameless self, and it is like a relay in it, connecting the spirituality of the dream world and the material world.

It seemed as if it was absorbing the spiritual energy ball of the fat man's umbrella. The range that the intersection area could cover was originally only a small area of ​​the inner nine courtyards and the outer five courts, but now, that range has been extended a little, slightly touching the edges of the zoo and aquarium.

The main body of the scene roughly matched the outline of the villa and was more normal than last night.

"Hmm... 'Spider Moth' isn't here, nor is 'Libra'. The spikes representing the influence of 'Clash of Blades' are concentrated near the menagerie. Are they the keepers or the retainers? 'Golden Book Tower' should be located in the library. I remember there was only an old man with blurry eyes there, that's probably it."

If this move did not require the consciousness to leave the body, Hestia would have planned to see what was going on and count the heads of the rebels as early as when she arrived at the Little Mouse Boutique Alley.

"Your Highness, we're here." Iyana's voice echoed in her "mind".

Hestia's spirit was about to float back to the strange beast puppet wrapped in purple moon and steel, when her gaze suddenly shifted—

The lawn inside the high wall was covered with dense, regular, geometric golden maggots.

"Maggots... no, worms?!"

Hestia suddenly thought of the secret enemy who would first appear in version 3.0.

Worms are more like an all-pervasive concept, representing the bewitching and corruption encountered by secret practitioners while wandering in the Dreamworld.

When a esoteric practitioner falls prey to the bewitching spell, they will be infested by worms, or even become worms themselves. Those who become worms also become the medium for the spread of bewitching spells, luring the esoteric practitioner away from the path they believe in and into the dark abyss.

But even if it was a worm, why would it appear in her living quarters? Are the Iron Guards all just a bunch of freeloaders?!

Hestia regained consciousness immediately, opened her eyes suddenly, and jumped off the carriage.

"Your Highness, be careful with your steps..." "Your Highness, you are back."

Iyana didn't understand why the princess was suddenly so anxious, so she reminded her softly.

Along with her resonant voice, there was also a beautiful and graceful girl. Her petite body was tucked under a long corseted dress with black silk and gold threads, like a concise and plain poem.

Hestia suddenly remembered that in addition to Iyana, she also had a maid who accompanied her to school and they had a good relationship.

Matilda Miller, a naturalized descendant of Ross shepherds, the daughter of an Iron Army officer, her father and grandfather suffered immensely for her in the next eight lifetimes. She was a blessed person, and even the King of Hell would have to add two more entries to the Book of Life and Death after looking at her book of merit.

As soon as she saw Hestia, Matilda pressed herself against her eagerly, making the princess tingle from head to toe.

"I apologize for not being able to be by your side all the time, but Your Highness..." She glanced at Iyana, her gaze suddenly turning cold. "Is a delicate, cowardly, and pretentious half-elf like me truly fit to ride in the same chariot with the great One who will one day wield the Iron Throne?"

Volume 12: Dreamer: . There is a mole inside, terminate the deal

Matildahl Miller's immediate response to Iyanna was more than just a green tea scheme. Hestia would have compared it to her bullying of Viola, a brazen act of bullying and exclusion, unabashed.

Although Hestia inherited the princess's memories, it was impossible for her to know every detail of the fifteen years. In her memory, Matildaal was a loyal and resolute maid with excellent swordsmanship, deeply favored by the princess.

It was precisely because of this filter that Hestia realized how big a contrast there was between Matildahl Miller's true face and his.

Thinking that this woman was most likely a bewitched worm, Hestia's eyes immediately flashed with deep vigilance.

Apart from Matildahl, there was no fifth person in the inner courtyard. If it weren't for her, how could such changes occur at the border?

Hestia's golden pupils were covered with a layer of dark shadow, and her face was as gloomy as water.

The story of how the Iron-Blooded Princess became a butcher might not be as simple as she imagined. Worms are like cockroaches. By the time you find one, they have already infiltrated every aspect of life.

"To bewitch the princess, it can only be the corrupted secret cultivators of the High Tower. Can the Iron-Blooded Cross also breed bugs?"

Hestia pondered, recalling the tall knights she had met one by one in her memory, but there was nothing unusual. The princess had a surprisingly good impression of everyone.

In comparison, Iyana Xingyue was in such a miserable state that in the eyes of the princess she was the epitome of disloyalty, injustice, unkindness, unfilial piety, courage and perseverance.

"Your Highness, are you right?"

Matildahl held the suitcase in front of her knees, standing in a military posture. She rubbed the princess's shoulder as if unintentionally, like a petite sentry affectionate to her benefactor.