Upon witnessing this, the golden-fur lion made another clandestine attempt to assail her.
"Achir!" Ali exclaimed in shock, rushing to her aid and unleashing an astral wind.
As the golden-fur lion deftly sidestepped the astral winds, its claws grazed Achir's side, managing only to snatch a strand of her long hair, which sent her elegant and distinctive bun unraveling.
Achir seethed with fury, her cries echoing as if she had endured a great injustice. Her eyes reddened as she implored Ali, "Ali, help me eliminate this woman before me! I want her gone!"
That insolent little wench.
This woman had tarnished her image as an elegant princess. Look at her now. She bore no semblance of royalty; she resembled a beggar scurrying through the streets, with her hair held captive by the lion.
Ali, too, felt his anger simmering. "You people, have some shame."
Did they believe that the Nether Province Royal Family was easy to intimidate?
