Chapter 88 — How Ironic

Chapter 88: 88 — How Ironic

The once green, colourful trees of Erion had turned yellow and red. Some lay on the ground, while others still hung onto the branches despite the occotional wind blowing them, causing them to tremble.

Outside of the mansion, Cynthia was seated, observing the garden which was nearly dead now. In her past life, she had put a lot of effort into keeping it alive— rather, creating a greenhouse that could preserve her once favourite flowers— roses. However, now, she had no interest in gardening, not in a land she wished to destroy for ruining her life.

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