With Willow's assistance, Sophia shed her outer robe and put this protective suit on her body.
Oh, this wrapping sensation, it's a bit like those posture correctors I wore as a child in my past life.
Sophia moved her shoulders, then bent at the waist, a trace of pleasant surprise flashing through her eyes.
It's actually not hard at all!
This feeling of composite leather and metal is simply like a layer of thick thermal underwear.
And this cut... Irene, did you secretly measure my waistline?
Although it's quite tight, what is with this brimming sense of security? It doesn't feel too restrictive either.
Sophia stood before the mirror, looking at herself—still cold and noble, yet invisibly armed—and slowly extended her hand to touch the hidden hard block on her chest.
"Irene, I like this gift very much."
Sophia's voice remained cold and clear, but within those pale golden eyes, a trace of warmth unique to companions, usually imperceptible, flowed out.
She had not expected this Miss Transmigrator to be so attentive.
Without her ordering it, Irene originally didn't need to take such pains.
But thinking about it briefly, it made sense; humans are emotional creatures. Long-term interaction and the previous life-and-death moments had unknowingly advanced their relationship.
To the side, Delilah watched Sophia try on the new armor, her inner heart having long since exploded.
I knew it!
Delilah looked at that black armor, which reflected almost no light under the lamps, her eyes filled with a sense of fanaticism.
How is this some protective suit?
This is clearly Her Majesty's 'Indestructible Sacred Armor'!
Although Miss Irene has exquisite skills, without Her Majesty's inspirational guidance, how could she create such common-sense-subverting armor in such a short time?
The reason Her Majesty is going to the banquet—was she prepared to be surrounded from the start?
Wearing the lightest armor, carrying the fiercest gun, greeting all conspiracies with the most elegant posture.
Your Majesty, has your control over the situation truly reached this level of miscalculation-free perfection?
Delilah took a deep breath and looked at Sophia's back; her originally firm will became as hard as steel at this moment.
She thought of the oath she swore before coming here—'I will definitely take that Tyrant's wretched life!'—and felt somewhat ashamed.
She had actually misunderstood this King of unparalleled wisdom and bravery, who possessed a benevolent heart.
"You did very well, Irene. With this armor, plus my musketeer squad, those so-called knights of the Kingdom of Orr are nothing but a flock of lambs waiting to be slaughtered."
Irene looked at Sophia's satisfied expression and finally let out a long sigh of relief, collapsing limply onto the rattan chair.
"Hehe... as long as Your Majesty is satisfied. To make this clothes, I used up the last bit of high-quality steel."
Irene chuckled. Although her face was full of fatigue, that sense of achievement of 'I protected a god' was even stronger than when she developed the shampoo.
Sophia looked at Irene, who had fallen asleep on the chair at some unknown point, then turned to Willow and whispered:
"Tomorrow, add two eggs and sausage to Irene's breakfast. Also, set aside half the milk produced by that milk cow tonight and bring it to her tomorrow morning. Remember to heat it."
Willow responded in a low voice.
Sophia looked down at the dark circles under Irene's eyes and extended her hand to gently stroke the hair on her forehead.
You've worked hard, Irene.
Sophia put on the black cloak and walked down the tower under the escort of Delilah and Willow.
*
Early morning, three days later.
The cold wind of late autumn was already swirling on the streets of Mason Royal City.
Sophia walked out of the Main Palace building supported by Willow.
Today, she had shed her usual slightly casual attire and changed into a complex and heavy pure black velvet long dress, the hem embroidered with intertwining roses in gold thread.
The most eye-catching thing was the gold crown amidst her hair.
This was the symbol of royal power of the Kingdom of Mason.
Under the thin morning light, the golden crown shone in harmony with her pale golden pupils, setting off that fair, exquisite face to appear even more cold, arrogant, and solitary.
Just standing quietly before the carriage step, that imperial aura of overriding all living beings spread out like a tangible substance.
Sophia sighed quietly in her heart, but her face maintained that deep expression of viewing all living beings as ants.
She turned her head slightly and looked toward the top of the city gate tower.
There, Irene, her eyes red, was desperately suppressing the excitement in her heart.
And behind her, Hailey, who had just woken up and whose hair was still a bit messy, was clinging to the stone bricks, waving her hand to say goodbye.
Sophia gave a slight, imperceptible nod, then sat into the carriage under Willow's guidance.
The heavy gates of the Palace slowly opened amidst the tooth-aching sound of turning bearings.
The citizens guarding both sides of the street instinctively shrank their necks, yet couldn't help but crane their heads, trying to peek at the grand scene of that Tyrant's first official tour.
The first to step out of the palace gates were a full sixty elites of the Black Rose Guard.
These soldiers wore form-fitting cured leather armor personally designed by Irene, the outer layer even equipped with raw iron heart-protecting mirrors glowing with cold light, looking completely different from their previous appearance.
Because of sufficient daily food supply and training, their physiques were obviously a whole circle stronger than half a month ago. Everyone's back was straight like an unsheathed sharp sword, their eyes revealing a kind of fanatical calmness.
Thud, thud, thud—
The uniform steps of military boots treading on the stone road produced a sound heavy and full of rhythm, like the drumbeats of the Death God.
On their broad shoulders, long spears with smooth lines that had been repeatedly debugged by Irene were flickering with a cold luster, while their waists were all equipped with black muskets.
The citizens held their breath.
This killing atmosphere was completely different from the loose knight orders of the Old King's era; this was a terrifying pressure named Order.
Subsequently, that super shock-absorbing carriage, repeatedly reinforced by Irene and decorated with dark gold patterns, rolled out steadily.
Delilah had changed into silver and black light armor today, wearing a cape as red as blood, riding a warhorse that was pitch-black all over.
One hand pressing on her sword hilt, the other holding the reins, she guarded Sophia's carriage window.
She looked at Sophia's back as she boarded the carriage, and the heat flow deep in her heart, born of admiration for Sophia, sprayed out once again.
Look, this is my Queen.
Delilah looked at the boxes of soap gift sets behind the carriage, and those soldiers with eyes like wolves, feeling every cell in her body trembling.
Her Majesty brings Valery as the brain to gamble, and the musketeer squad as the fangs.
She clearly knows that ahead lies very likely a trap set by the monarchs of various countries, yet she still wears that crown symbolizing absolute rule.
She is not going to an appointment, she is going to declare war!
She wants to use the Kingdom of Mason's 'Civilization' and 'Violence' to completely deter those rats who are still watching.
Delilah abruptly drew the longsword at her waist, the sword tip pointing straight at the firmament, and let out a violent shout that pierced the clouds and cracked the rocks:
"Black Rose Guard!
Protect Her Majesty—Depart!"
"For Her Majesty!!"
Sixty musketeers shouted in unison, the wave of sound shaking the entire Royal City.
________________________________________
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