It had to be Florida.
Or Nessid, as it was called in Elysium.
Worlds may change, names may change, but Florida would always remain Florida. Apart from that strange thought, Aaran had his eyes fixed on the strange capital.
From the bustling crowd, no one would think their king had been murdered.
It's not like they could mourn the king's death.
So far, Emperor Trantua was the prime suspect behind the assassination. The people were afraid of what might happen to them if they mourned King Nessid's death.
But Aaran knew that if it was Trantua's doing, they'd be mourning themselves—as spirits, of course.
"Where's the corpse?" Aaran asked.
"Right this way, Your Highness," a knight replied, guiding him into the castle.
Two knights followed them, leaving Valgo and one other behind.
"I can't believe this," Rial, the other knight, spat. "This is a serious crime, and the Emperor is making us babysit?"
