Not long after, his perspective shifted. The arduous journey came to a close as the carriages rolled into the magnificent capital city. Its walls, a pristine white, stood as proof of its dignity. Above, the sword of Silvara, a towering beacon of magic, danced in the sky, its ethereal glow casting a spell over the city.
The first carriage opened, and from within came a girl, a mage.
She had brown hair and eyes and a cute smile. The next carriage held a young man and woman. They looked like they were in their late teens and early twenties. These people were actually nobles who would attend the wedding in under two weeks.
Meanwhile, Asura himself continued to rest, his body enveloped in the comforting embrace of Mu Xue and Xavida.
Unbeknownst to him, they kept a secret, a conflict that fermented beneath the surface. Yet, in his presence, they maintained an exterior of harmony, their devotion to his well-being outweighing their personal feelings.
