Cracking sidewalks and watery moonshine struggled past the clouds. A combination of dragon and waterfall braid of auburn was holding its tail in place as she walked. Her auburn eyes were starking and sharp. Her eyebrows were akin to a blade of her emotion. She was taller and muscular, she was, lithe. She wore nothing to resemble her royal status, but the presence that she exuded just for being, was something not even the queen of the Sverine Kingdom had. A true and foremost deadly woman. A femme fatale.
No one would ever dream to have this kind of woman by their side. She was both a dream and nightmare due to her strong presence and strong battle instinct. She was decisive and cold in the situation that was needed. She was an independent woman that made the majority of the male cultivators corner themselves and sought shelters due to their incompetence. Almost every male cultivator that was.
"Cecile," Lyon called out.
