The Villain Princess survived the Imperial Riot

Matildahl screamed in pain. The griffin in her view paused in the air for a moment, then hissed and tried to peck out her eyeballs with its sharp eagle beak.

Matildahl could clearly see every movement of the griffin, but his body was in so much pain that he couldn't react.

"Eugène, come back!" the breeder shouted.

The griffin stopped at the sound, looked at Matildahl with hostility, and retreated back to the breeder.

"The princess's saber-toothed tiger is a demonic beast, and the griffin is only equal to it. If it's just a land battle, Eugenie will have no choice but to flee," the keeper said coldly. "Killing a few wolves is enough to complete your performance."

"Shut up!" Matildahl's face turned pale and red. "Who allowed a lowly animal-breeding person like you to talk to a noble like that? Believe it or not, I will kill you!"

"If you kill me, there won't be anyone else in Cloudtop City who can train magical beasts for the princess," the breeder said indifferently. "This craft also requires a family tradition."

"If I hadn't considered you still somewhat useful, I would have chopped off at least one of your legs. Humph, I'll let you go this time. But next time you see me, remember to stay away from me!"

Matildahl snorted coldly and turned away, not even bothering to pick up his sword.

It was not until they were far away from the zoo that she held up her right hand and grimaced, her whole body already soaked in cold sweat.

Matildahl went to the military doctor's office without stopping and asked the military doctor to treat his injuries.

The military doctor pinched her arm and found that Miss Miller's bones were broken in several pieces under the griffin's claws. If it was not the sword blade but the arm that was scraped, half of the flesh and blood would have been gouged out.

After applying ointment and inserting a stent, Matildahl was delighted to receive the pendant. Fortunately, the Royal Medical College was highly skilled, and the military doctor was also a top student who had undergone advanced training. As long as she followed the doctor's instructions, she would be fully recovered within a week, given her physical condition.

"Remember to take your medicine on time." The elderly military doctor wrote down a series of precautions and placed them in the box containing ointments and medicines. He gently patted the girl's shoulder. "You are the daughter of an iron soldier. Your enthusiasm is enough to bring honor to your elders, but many things must be done within your capabilities... You work so hard, I'm sure His Highness will look up to you."

Hearing the words of the military doctor, Matidal felt a little sore in the nose. She thanked him and hurriedly fled from the clinic. Along the way, several Iron Army guards nodded to her, which made her run faster. She ran until she could no longer hear any footsteps, and then she sat down in the pavilion by the lake and cried bitterly.

Matildahl Miller has always had mixed feelings about the Iron Army: admiration, respect, and deep fear.

The Miller family hailed from the distant eastern grasslands. Countless hunters and prey roamed those vast, treacherous mountain pastures, battling Chaos survivors, ogres, werewolves, bloodborn, beastmen, and undead for every inch of space above and below. The inhabitants there were a multitude of mixed races; even Matildare herself might have a trace of werewolf blood. Every time the Violet Moon reached its fullness, she felt a powerful throbbing sensation.

The people of the steppes came from many different groups, but to the Empire—and even to the nations that existed before it—they were collectively referred to as Rus herders.

The Russian herdsmen advocated conquest, killing, and plundering, and had mixed beliefs. There was no unified centripetal force within them. Countless tribes drove monsters, united and split under the leadership of their respective khans, and fought endlessly for profit and survival.

The young lambs are not worthy of winning dignity on the battlefield, but are just trophies to be enjoyed or slaughtered by the victors.

Matildahl was the perfect lamb: small, frail, and flamboyant, like a petal that would scatter in the wind.

Although the Miller family moved to the empire and naturalized nearly eighty years ago, the shepherds' customs have not changed completely. Perhaps it is precisely this customs that has led the military to entrust them with important tasks to guard the border.

Matildahl didn't know that she was the eleventh daughter of the owner of the house. Her mother passed away when she was three years old. The owner of the house said that her mother was a beautiful flower that would wither with time, which was a pity.

She thought the master of the house liked flowers.

But her mother was just one of many flowers. The real matriarch of the Miller family was an extremely brave half-troll.

The mistress once said she was a pretty but useless flower, with thin arms and legs that made her no match for her strong brothers and sisters. So, flattery and currying favor became a compulsory course for Matilda, who learned it all without any instruction. She chose her eldest sister as her supporter. When her eldest sister was in a good mood, she would shake her petals and join in bullying the lambs. When her eldest sister was in a bad mood, she would shamelessly go over to be bullied like a lamb.

But she wasn't completely useless. The Empire's culture and customs had already permeated every aspect of naturalized shepherds. To enter the social circles of the local nobility, shepherd nobles like the Miller family needed to learn elegance. So, when she was eight years old, the head of the family suggested, "Why not send her to the capital?"

Whether it was the princesses of the royal family or the daughters of princes and dukes, they all needed daughters of lower-class nobles to serve as personal maids. This served as both a bond of interest and a breakthrough for the lesser nobles to advance further.

This meant that Matildahl, the face of the young women and the most promising candidate for advancement in the Miller family, suffered discrimination from her mistress and sisters, yet also enjoyed respectable treatment. The head of the family said this was a required course in the empire, requiring her to understand both the strict hierarchy and the family's honor; to be able to kneel and to stand.

Matildahl asked the head of the household, if she was a flower for people to admire, and those untouchables were lambs to be fed and slaughtered, then what were the other Miller people?

The girl thought the answer would be jackals, tigers, or leopards, but the owner’s answer was “dog”.

Matildahl had always been in awe of her majestic and brutal father. She had seen the head of the family chop off the heads of dozens of captives with his own hands, and had also seen him dissect a demon bear with his bare hands. The girl could not understand why such a great man would say that he was a dog instead of the most valiant wolf.

Later, when she served the princess in the palace, Matildaal finally understood the true meaning of power. She also realized that her father, whom she once admired and feared, was just a servile speck of dust under the iron army's hooves.

The head of the Miller family is just a colonel. Although he is a viscount, in the eyes of true nobles, he is just a barbaric upstart.

She returned home once during her stay. That time, the head of the family was no longer the head of the family, nor was he her father, but just an old dog. The once majestic man respected her immensely, and her eldest sister, who could not stand her arrogance, had her leg broken by the head of the family.

Nothing had changed except herself.

She became the princess's dog.

Although they are both dogs, the head of the Miller family is just a stray guard dog. No matter how hard he tries, he can only lick the bones left by other dogs.

And she, Matildaal Miller, is the noble pet of the Celestial Dragon Princess.

When the old military doctor said that she was the daughter of the Iron Army, Matidal laughed and cried.

She belonged to no one except the princess. If she hadn't become the princess's dog, Matildaal would have thought her life was just a gust of wind, just passing by without ever truly being there.

She was born for the princess.

But now, the princess is going to abandon her.

It's those two bitches who are fanning the flames!

Matildahl gnashed his teeth, wishing he could eat Viola and Iyana alive.

They were only slightly better: just the little flowers at 19 o'clock, just like I used to wear in the Miller family, only a little prettier!

Flowers will eventually wither with the passage of time, but a dog's loyalty will last like gold until the end of history.

Resentment and hatred spread in her chest, and Matildaal felt full of strength, as if she saw the disgusting black-haired phantom by the lake again.

No, not an apparition.

Matildahl walked over, her heart full of anger but a smile on her face.

"Miss Miller, what can I do for you?"

Viola tried to avoid him, but was blocked by Matildahl. She smelled the blood on him and retreated nervously with the book in her arms.

Kill her!

Matildahl roared inwardly, and she drew her sword swiftly—

"Oh!"

With a cry of pain, the support on her right hand collapsed. She didn't even have time to grasp the sword. The bandage on her broken arm fell off, and the strong smell of ointment mixed with blood.

"Are you okay?" Viola took two more steps back. She only saw Miller's right hand pulling and falling towards the empty scabbard, and then his whole body hunched over. She didn't know what he was performing.

"It has nothing to do with you..."

"Oh, then I'm leaving." Viola didn't dare to stay and immediately turned back.

"stop!"

"Miss Miller, I don't want to provoke you." Viola took a deep breath and said helplessly, "If you bully me again, I will tell His Highness."

"..."

Upon hearing this, Matildahl's teeth began to clatter.

How could His Highness be interested in this coward who only knows how to complain?

Matildahl wanted to kill her old enemy, but her arm was injured and she was in no condition to fight.

"I just want to apologize to you," Matildahl said with a twisted smile. "I know my words were a little unkind before, but that was just because I was in a bad mood. Can you forgive me?"

"I forgive you, thank you." Viola continued to back away.

Forgive me! This guy is grinning, and it looks like he has bad intentions!

"Then..." Matildahl pondered, "Can you tell me where you live? I'd like to wait a while and then formally apologize to you."

Viola's breath hitched, she pursed her lips, and didn't answer.

"Miss Leland, I sincerely apologize to you," Matildahl said, sweating, stepping closer to Viola and saying as gently as possible, "Can you tell me where your home is, please?"

"I suggest you take a look at the wound on your arm first..." Viola began to feel scared. She seemed to see cracks appearing on Matildahl's arm and something strange was wriggling.

"Is it possible?" Matildahl endured the severe pain and forced a smile. Her eyes stared at Viola in a terrible stillness, and she repeated, "Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible?"

Seeing such a crazy look, Viola no longer hesitated and turned around and ran away in fear: "I, I'm sorry! I forgive you! Please don't bother me anymore! Woohoo!"

The black-haired girl ran farther and farther away, and Matildahl stared at her back in a daze.

She seemed very angry, yet not that angry. All that was left was endless despair and grievance.

Feeling the severe pain in his arm, Matildaal suddenly knelt on the ground and cried loudly without stopping.

Volume 60: Dreamers: . Hospice

When staying at Cloud Court Villa, Hestia felt more like a loner.

The elf maid-mother had too much housework to deal with, the knight commander was running around for the worm matter, and the little maid was usually in the library, only serving her for a short while in the morning and at night.

This was not because the princess was showing any special favor, but because she also had a secret that was difficult to tell.

The fact that she is a witch cannot be known to anyone. She needs time alone to study those potentially evil rituals.

The empire almost monopolized most of the rare resources needed for secret cultivation, including those needed by mortals. Therefore, the secret tools or materials that other secret cultivators need to go deep into various dangerous places and pay a huge price to obtain are easily available to the Tianlong people.

Hestia obtained the secret treasure needed for the ritual of summoning the witch's true spirit within a day. She made a special trip to the prayer room, which was also the meditation room, to complete her experiment.

The prayer room has its own barrier, which is mainly used to prevent external eavesdropping and interference, so that the secret practitioners can enter the state faster and improve their compatibility with their dreams.

The only thing to be wary of was the statue of the God-Emperor. She prayed to the witch, feeling that having such a large figure in the room was unlucky, so she "moved" the statue to the corridor, out of sight and out of mind.

Hestia arranged the magic circle and placed the materials step by step, and deliberately entered a meditative state in order to get closer to the false dream constructed by Qiu Su.

She unfolded the Witch's Book and established a channel between the material world and the dream world at the intersection, allowing the three dimensions to be temporarily in a superimposed plane.

Because of the three combined forces, Hestia's physical body would also enter. She considered carefully, and if the summoned thing was particularly dangerous, she would first hide in the enemy's face to attract the enemy's fire, then slip back into the material world, close the book, and run away.

"Great One of the Infinite Universe, I ask you to descend upon me with the body of a witch and the soul of burning steel, a ray of eternal and immortal true spirit..."

Hestia ignited the Conqueror's Blood Sand containing her own blood. Brilliant fireworks rose in the air, and a faint arc-shaped crack appeared in the space. Then, a grand and vast soul touch suddenly emerged.

The princess saw nothing, yet seemed to see everything—it was only because she was in it that she could not see the truth.

She felt her body was being opened up, no, dissolving, as if it was about to turn into a wisp of wind, a grain of sand, into thousands and millions, into the world itself.

This is extremely terrifying because when she truly becomes everything, it also means losing herself.

Fortunately, the Witch's Book has been bound to her soul, like an extremely solid anchor. No matter how strong the wind is, it cannot really shake her coordinates.

A rift appeared above Hestia's head, encompassing countless worlds, countless galaxies, and countless stars, like a narrow eye looking through the end of history.

She knew that this meant the aura of the "Great Witch" had arrived. Just like praying to the gods, she would receive various rewards by offering corresponding sacrifices or prayers.