Chapter 1448: Rescue Mission
__Somewhere, in Wellington city__
The apartment was small, a little cramped, but undeniably cozy. Warm brick walls were lined with vibrant paintings, and a soft gray carpet covered the wooden floor. In the corner sat a modest dark-gray sofa, brightened with colorful pillows, just big enough for Lydia to sprawl across during her rare moments of rest.
Everything had been provided by Noxcra as a practical gesture to help her settle in while carrying out her mission.
at the moment, Lydia sat at a small round wooden table near the sliding glass door. The evening light filtered through the glass, painting soft streaks across her laptop screen.
After typing for a few moments, she paused, propped her chin in one hand, and took a slow sip of tea. Then, with the faintest trace of irony tugging at her lips, she scrolled past yet another headline: ’The Saintess Moves the Masses—Miracles or Destiny?’
Thousands of people gathered in the photo, young, old, frail, radiant, all of them gazing at the Saintess as though she were the divine incarnation herself.
A sea of tears, clasped hands, and trembling faith. Once, Lydia might have been among them. She remembered the first time she saw the woman in person during a grand assembly: how her heart had swelled, her admiration almost painful. Back then, the Saintess had seemed untouchable, a beacon of hope wrapped in silk and sanctity.
But now? Oh, now Lydia saw her for what she truly was. Not a holy savior. Not even a pale reflection of greatness. No, this woman was the discount knockoff of a legacy that once belonged to a real hero: Princess Lorient.
Lydia almost laughed at herself, at the sheer absurdity of ever thinking otherwise. How had she, who once grieved at the mention of Princess Lorient’s name, ever allowed herself to be dazzled by this hollow spectacle?
Unlike anyone else, Princess Lorient hadn’t merely spoken of sacrifice; she had lived it. Lydia could still picture the young princess, hurling herself into a horde of ravenous beasts to shield her people and lead them to safety, even as everything she loved was reduced to ash.
Side by side with her subjects, she fought through blood and fire without so much as a flinch, her resolve unshaken.
later on she found out that the reason for her decade-long disappearance wasn’t cowardice or defeat, but a desperated act of a sister trying to help her only brother: For that, princess Lorient leave the safety of L’markieth and ventured into the abyss itself to find a way to save her brother, King Lucas, before he was forced to wield the Seven Gods’ Swords and pay their terrible price.