"No problem." Rosaria was ready, full of fighting spirit, with her snow-white toes touching the ground, she lightly jumped onto the platform.
"Hey, why is there no sound inside?" Bicas had already arrived at the foot of the city, frowning and looking at the gray fog, shouting inside: "Hurry up and answer, why are you not talking, what happened inside, damn it."
"Hehe, you are the imperial guards from the imperial capital." Rosaria no longer hid, and walked out of the gray fog gracefully. The black skirt that had not yet been sewn by herself rustled in the wind, and with her long hair like a waterfall, the whole person bloomed with a broken beauty.
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