Legendary Broken Player - VRMMORPG

Chapter 159: Chapter 159 - First Steps in the Capital

Chapter 159: - First Steps in the Capital



Broken and Ivana stepped through the city gates in awe. Towering buildings and spires rose around them, their white stone glittering in the sun. People of all shapes and sizes bustled about, merchants haggling between stalls, and adventurers recounting their war stories. Carts rumbled by, their wheels clattering against the cobblestones beneath them.

Everywhere they looked, life thrived. People went about their business, shared laughter, exchanged juicy gossip, and occasionally, cast veiled glances at the newcomers. It was like stepping into a different world, vibrant and full of energy.

"Have you ever been to the capital before, Ivana?" Broken asked.

Ivana shook her head. "No, this is my first time," she replied with a warm smile.

Broken chuckled softly. "Actually, this is my first time as well," he admitted. "Before this, I've only traveled around the towns and small villages surrounding the city."

"I remember that your level isn't too high yet... but you've achieved so much at your current level," she said, giggling.

The two of them wandered through the streets, their eyes darting to the various merchants selling all sorts of necessities. The bustling streets were a stark contrast to the tranquil ambiance of villages like Deadbay.

"Freya and the others," Ivana mentioned quietly, "they should have arrived by now, right?"

"Yes," Broken confirmed with a nod, scanning the bustling city streets. "They're waiting for us at the inn."

Turning to her, he asked, "Do you want to try some food here, Ivana?"

Ivana was silent for a moment, her steps steady as she followed his lead. "Umh..."

Broken smiled. "Sure, your food is better, but let's explore and savor the flavors of this city for a bit," he suggested.

"No... I actually want to try many things... but..." she trailed off again.

Broken looked puzzled.

"I need to sell my food first, because... my money is running out..." she said with a giggle.

The maids worked diligently, adorning her with the finest fabrics and jewels. They couldn't help but admire her graceful demeanor and the way her hair flowed like a waterfall.

Grace, the senior maid, slightly older than the rest, spoke up. "Your Highness, you look absolutely stunning in this dress," she said, her praise directed at the blue and red gown that enveloped Princess Alora, flowing elegantly down to her feet, complemented by ornaments in her hair.

Princess Alora bestowed a small, gentle smile upon her, her beauty illuminating the room. "You certainly know how to flatter me, Grace," she said, her voice firm yet low, as if suppressing the power it held.

Grace returned the smile. "I have served you since you were a baby, Your Highness. I've witnessed your beauty evolve into something extraordinary over the years. Today, you are more beautiful than ever."

Alora's smile grew warmer at her words. "You know I'm not accustomed to wearing this kind of dress, right? I was born to fight on the front lines-it's my duty to protect my people." "Your Highness, you have shouldered this responsibility with great skill and tenacity. You exemplify what a royal family member should be someone willing to do everything for the Dissidia Kingdom," Grace said with conviction. "The people could not ask for a better future Queen to protect them during these difficult times. I have complete faith in you."

"Thank you, Grace. Your faith strengthens my resolve."

The maids completed dressing her, stepping back to marvel at their accomplishment.

"Your Highness, we have finished our task, and I hope you can appreciate your appearance in this dress as much as we admire your elegance," Grace said.

"Thank you, Grace. Thank you, everyone!" Alora replied with a warm smile. Rising from her chair, she took a step forward with the firm stride of a seasoned Knight, a trait honed by countless days on the battlefield. Yet, despite her warrior's gait, her innate grace and the nobility of her regal attire remained unmistakably evident. No one could deny the charisma and allure she radiated.

As she exited her royal chamber, two imposing Knights awaited her at the door. They bowed deeply before falling into step behind her. These were Lionell and Mercy, Knights specifically

assigned to safeguard her.

From a distance, down the grand corridor, Alora noticed another figure approaching, accompanied by their own pair of guard Knights. She continued to walk upright. The

approaching figure drew nearer, revealing a man in his late fifties with flowing blond hair,

dressed in opulent green robes befitting royalty.

"Alora!" the man called out, his voice both soft and commanding.

"Uncle Demian," she replied.

It was Demian, the younger brother of the King.