Thousands of mountains are always pits

The empire's youngest general has returned in triumph.

When the news came back to the palace, there was an uproar at the new king's enthronement banquet.

This is the first sharp edge that the new king showed in order to show his achievements and strength. It is sharp and dangerous, just like the thorn pattern on her head.

"General, you just came back from the battlefield, so you can't just enter in disheveled clothes..." Before the maid could say anything, Gran turned a corner and headed straight for Sirian's bedroom.

The court lady is new here, so naturally she doesn't know the relationship between Gran and Sirian, but she is also very jealous of this prestigious general, so she can only bite the bullet and whisper: "...Her Majesty's bedroom."

Gran didn't speak, she strode past, the maid could only tiptoe and hold the hem of her skirt to barely keep up.

The young general pushed open the double doors of the bedroom, took down a complicated and beautiful tuxedo from the hanger, and changed into the military uniform on his own, blocking the maid's words: "Go down, I will take responsibility for any accidents."

The black-bottomed silver-trimmed tuxedo perfectly covered Gran's white lining, which was also stained with enemy blood. The clothes seemed to be tailor-made for her, fitting Gran's figure properly, making her slender figure look even more tall and straight.

While walking, Gran was wearing gilded silver buttons, tidying up the pleated neckline, a little bit to shrink the evil spirit around her into the decent clothes, and before the banquet palace, she was already an elegant silver organ, pushing away the thorns When the palace gate was painted with dark patterns, the silver buttons on the cuffs were already jingling like wind chimes.

The accordion in the hall fell silent.

The ministers put down the wine glasses in their hands, the dancers stopped their dancing, and the whole palace held its breath. Everyone was interrupted by this absurd and sudden visitor.

They stared at the youngest general in the entire star field.

The vision is obscure and ambiguous.

There are many rumors about the young general:

For example, she is the new king's childhood sweetheart;

For example, her massacre on the battlefield;

For example, she is the son of the despicable old king and the loyal new king;

For example, she just quelled the rebellion of veteran officials who supported the old dynasty.

"Your Highness..." Gran gave a military salute to the person on the high throne, "...No, Your Majesty."

Sirien had not been crowned before she set out to battle, and now that the crown of thorns was on her head, Gran forgot to change his words for a while.

"The minister was ordered to put down the rebellion in the Northwest. There were 20 billion rebels, and none of them survived. Fortunately, he did not disgrace his life."

Very calm voice.

Cirien propped his chin with one hand, held the wine glass in his right hand, and looked at Gran in front of him in a daze.

The first time she heard her voice 13 years ago, it was so peaceful.

Her father led the revolutionary army into the castle, and as her father's only child, she was naturally brought with her—even though she was only seven years old at the time.

He was clearly surrendering, but his voice and tone were very calm, which immediately attracted the attention of Sirien who was sitting on horseback, reminding her of the ice burned by flames, and the water melting down from the edge of the ice silently, Falling smoothly, before falling into the volcano, it was steamed by the scorching heat, silently.

Even in bed.

Sirian really wanted to hear the sound of this person's ice edge being broken.

"Well. Well done." She hummed a casual tone from her nasal cavity, with the corners of her mouth slightly raised, "Let me think... what should I reward you for?"

Sirian put down his wine glass, looked around on his own, and suddenly let out a playful "ha", with a rather triumphant tone: "I see!"

She jumped off the throne, picked up the saber that was leaning on the throne, and walked in front of Gran in two or three steps.

"Swipe" the ground——

The point of the sword reached Gran's throat.

The ministers were so frightened that they didn't dare to breathe out. The timid ones even picked up the recently placed grapes to cover their eyes, for fear of seeing blood splattered on the spot.

But in the next second, Xi Ruien's clear voice came:

"Knight Gran, this sword killed your father, mother, and brothers and sisters. Now, I return this glorious sword to you."

"My honour, Your Majesty."

Gran saluted again unhurriedly, the tip of the sword slid down the tip of her nose and then picked up again, only a centimeter away from the beginning to the end.

Sirien suddenly felt a little bored.