Page 203 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

Missy appeared on her other side with a flash of red-purple energy. "Wait, we can watch the main plot happening in real-time?"

"Apparently," Carol said.

"And Earth TV dramas?" Lumi asked, peering at the control panel.

"All seven continents worth," Carol confirmed.

"I want to watch the expedition," Missy said immediately. "See how the chosen ones are doing."

"That was my thought too," Carol said. She was already moving to the concession stand, gathering popcorn, nachos, and a large soda. "Let's see how the heroic quest is actually going."

Lumi and Missy collected their own snacks—popcorn and candy for both of them, plus tiny sodas.

All three settled onto the comfortable lounging furniture, 3D glasses on, snacks ready.

Carol picked up the control panel and scrolled through the channel options. There it was: Wasteland Expedition - LIVE.

She selected it.

The screen flickered to life.

The Wasteland was even more horrific than Carol had imagined.

The landscape stretched out in twisted corruption—trees bent at unnatural angles, their bark black and oozing. The ground was cracked and dry, with patches of sickly green miasma rising from fissures. The sky above was dark gray, choked with ash and corruption.

And in the middle of this nightmare landscape, the expedition forces were fighting for their lives.

The view was spectacular—clearly magical in nature, providing multiple angles like some kind of omniscient camera system. Carol could see the entire battlefield, then zoom in on specific sections.

There were hundreds of fighters. Knights in armor, adventurers with various weapons, mages casting spells from the rear lines. And at the front, leading the charge, was Percival.

He looked nothing like the pristine, golden hero from the ball.

Percival was covered in mud, blood, and sweat. His once-shining armor was dented and stained. His golden hair was plastered to his head. His face was set in grim determination as he fought against a massive corrupted bear—easily fifteen feet tall, its fur matted with dark ichor, its eyes glowing with Blight-madness.

"Oh wow," Missy said, munching popcorn. "He looks terrible."

"They all look terrible," Lumi observed.

It was true. The entire expedition force looked exhausted and desperate.

Carol watched as Percival dodged the bear's massive claws, his movements slower than they should be. He was tired. They were all tired.

A group of knights to the left were fighting corrupted wolves—creatures that had once been normal animals, now twisted into something monstrous. One knight went down, screaming, and his companions had to drag him back while others filled the gap.

Mages in the rear were casting spell after spell, their faces pale with magical exhaustion. Fireballs, lightning bolts, barriers of force—all of it barely keeping the Blightspawn at bay.

And in the center of the formation, surrounded by paladins and holy knights, was Lady Rosalie Lennox.

She looked like she was about to collapse.

Rosalie's hands glowed with holy light as she cast purification spell after purification spell. Each one cleared a small area of corruption, pushing back the miasma, healing the land inch by painful inch.

But it was clearly taking everything she had.

Her face was deathly pale. Sweat poured down her temples. Her hands trembled with exhaustion. But she kept casting, kept pushing, because the entire expedition was counting on her.

"She's going to pass out," Lumi said worriedly.