The Bad Girl's Quick Transmigration System: Traveling Back and Forth

When Arya got the news and rushed to the city wall, she was shocked by the scene before her.

Emilia lay quietly in a pool of blood, her delicate body appearing so tender, like a flower that had just bloomed, only to wither in an instant. Her face, drained of color, seemed drained of its vitality, its once rosy skin now pale as paper.

Emilia's makeup is as exquisite as a work of art, with every detail meticulously crafted. Her skin is as white as snow and as delicate as porcelain, exuding a cool and elegant luster.

Her eyebrows were as slender as willow leaves, their slight upward curve perfectly adding a touch of spirit to her features. Her eye makeup was particularly ingenious, with smoky eyeshadow smudged like a mysterious painting. Her deep eyes gleamed with despair and unwillingness, as if they could penetrate the soul.

Her lips were painted with bright lip gloss, the color like a burning flame, fiery and dazzling, forming a sharp contrast with her pale face. The slightly upturned corners of her mouth carried a hint of stubbornness, as if telling of her inner unyielding spirit.

Her hair was as soft as silk, gently brushing against her fair skin like a golden waterfall. Under her high nose bridge, her lips were slightly parted, and her little tongue was sticking out, as if she was gasping for her last breath.

However, when she was dead, all this beauty was instantly shattered. Her face turned as pale as paper, lifeless, and her once lively eyes lost their luster, staring blankly into the distance. Her delicate makeup was particularly glaring in the pool of blood, forming a sharp contrast with her current appearance, leaving one's heart filled with endless sorrow and regret.

Emilia's makeup was exquisite and exaggerated, like a carefully painted work of art. Her lips were painted with exaggerated bright red lipstick, the color like a burning flame, fiery and dazzling, forming a sharp contrast with her pale face, as if it was the interweaving of life and death.

The smoky eyeshadow added a mysterious depth to her eyes, making them look sharper, as if they could see through everything. However, at this moment, these beautiful eyes were filled with despair and unwillingness, as if they were a silent struggle against fate.

Her peerless beauty appeared incomparably beautiful amidst the pool of blood. Her delicate features, as perfect as a sculpture, her high nose bridge, the slightly upturned corners of her mouth, and her long, silky hair all exuded a heartbreaking beauty. However, this beauty formed a sharp contrast with her current state, having perished in battle, filling one's heart with endless sorrow and regret.

Her eyes were wide open, filled with despair and unwillingness, as if she were telling of her unfulfilled mission and wish. Her lips were slightly parted, her tongue sticking out, as if she wanted to say something, but no sound could come out. She could only silently express her inner pain with her eyes.

Blood flowed from the corner of her mouth like a stream of red, forming a glaring contrast with her pale face. The bloody trace seemed to be the last trace of her life, gradually gathering into a pool of blood under her body.

Her body collapsed lifelessly to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Her once tall and straight figure was now twisted and distorted by the fall from the over ten-meter-high tower, as if mercilessly broken by fate. Her silver, half-cup leather breastplate was now stained a dark crimson with blood, like a bloody flower blooming in the darkness.

Four or five spears pierced her body like venomous snakes, piercing deep into her flesh. Each spear carried lethal force, ruthlessly tearing through her skin and muscle. Blood gushed out from the spear shafts like a surging crimson fountain, gathering beneath her in a crimson sea. This crimson blood mingled with the warm fluid flowing between her legs, forming a shocking stream that slowly gathered beneath her.

Her body was immersed in this crimson stream, as if being devoured by an invisible force. Blood continuously flowed from her wounds, staining the ground beneath her and the surrounding air red. Her face was as pale as paper, devoid of color, her eyes wide open, as if she had lost all life. Her appearance was incomparably desolate and tragic, the final fate of this invader.

A massive crossbow bolt pierced Emilia's throat, like a ferocious serpent, ruthlessly piercing her body. The bloody hole in her throat was horrifying, like a bottomless dark abyss, constantly devouring her life force. The tail feathers of the crossbow bolt still trembled slightly, as if telling of the thrilling battle just now and the unyielding and tenacious spirit she had displayed during it.

Her long golden hair cascaded onto the ground, mingling with the blood like a blooming blood flower, poignant and moving. A gentle breeze blew past, and her hair fluttered gently, but it could no longer display its former agility and softness, swaying helplessly in the wind, as if it were her final struggle.

Emilia's hands drooped limply at her sides, the longsword she'd once clenched dropping to the ground with a resounding clang. That weapon had once been her pride, a sharp weapon she'd used to fight her enemies. Now, like her life itself, it had lost all its strength and courage. Her fingers curled slightly, as if she were still trying to grasp at something, perhaps hope for life, perhaps hatred for her enemies. However, it was too late.

Her eyes gradually lost their luster, and her originally bright eyes became dull and lifeless, as if they were two gems that had lost their vitality.

Her eyes gradually grew hollow and lifeless. Those once sparkling pupils now resembled two dim gemstones, devoid of all life. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue weakly protruding from her lips, as if she were trying to say something, but no sound could come out. That was her last expression in this world, filled with despair and resignation.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment, the entire world plunging into a deathly silence. Only the massive crossbow bolt remained silently lodged in her throat, as if mocking her powerlessness. The skin surrounding the bolt was torn, blood gushing out, forming a massive bloody hole. Like a hideous wound, the bloody hole spoke of the brutality of this brutal battle, bearing witness to her final form and the ultimate fate of the invaders.

Her body trembled slightly, as if she were still fighting a final struggle against death. However, it was too late; her life had completely faded. Her eyes revealed her attachment to this world, her longing for her loved ones, and her concern for them. But all of this would vanish with her passing.

In this stark contrast, Emilia's beauty and sorrow unfolded before everyone like a poignant and heartbreaking painting. Her face, once as beautiful as a spring flower, was now shrouded in pain and sorrow, as if devoid of the radiance of life. Her eyes revealed an endless sadness, as if narrating the suffering and injustice she had endured.

Alia stared blankly at Emilia's plight, grief surging in her heart like a tidal wave. Unable to express her feelings, she could only stare silently at her once vibrant little sister. She recalled the time she had spent with Emilia, but those beautiful memories now became sharp blades that pierced her heart.

Alia looked at Emilia's miserable state, and the grief in her heart was beyond words. This little sister whom she had raised died so miserably and heroically, which made her feel extremely sad.