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Chapter 270 - Three girls, desperate to find their darling.

The streets of Arvalen teemed like a living river. Merchants shouted offers from every corner, bards strummed lively melodies, the smell of freshly baked bread and seasoned meat wafted from the stalls. Amidst carts laden with burdens, children running, and guards passing on patrol, three figures advanced side by side, attracting more glances than any call for tenders or music.

At the front, Irelia walked with the confidence of someone who knew everyone was watching—and with good reason. Her form-fitting white and gold leather outfit gleamed in the late afternoon light. Each polished buckle reflected the sun as if it had been cleaned that morning. Strapped to her hip, the golden hilt of her sword seemed to pulse with a glow of its own, and any seasoned adventurer would know it was no ordinary weapon, but an artifact of incalculable value. Her golden hair fell straight to her shoulders, and her golden eyes glittered, measuring the city with the coldness of a predator.

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