"Ophelia's tone was calm, but as she spoke, a gust of wind carrying a rich floral scent came by, immediately lifting the sleeves of the Great Angel Leader, revealing a shocking dark red scar.
Though the sleeves quickly fell back down, covering the wound once more, Iliad, who was right next to her, saw it clearly.
"Is this the injury you sustained during the war?"
Iliad stepped forward, his expression grave.
"It's just a small wound, nothing serious."
Seeing Iliad approach, Ophelia covered her sleeve and said nonchalantly,
"Besides, I'm the Commander, it doesn't affect anything."
"I can take your place in leading the war, mother, please take some rest."
Iliad immediately said.
"Then how should your father be arranged?"
Seeing Iliad's reaction as she expected, Ophelia was pleased inside and asked with feigned modesty.
"I'll arrange it properly."
"Do you think your father would be angry because of this?"
Ophelia was still not satisfied, pushing further.
