Today’s a great day.

It’s greatness, is not infallible by any means though. It’s the kind of greatness that’s just asking to be spoiled, and that’s been really keeping me on edge.

Around me marches an army. More specifically, the entirety of the Foksly Regional Militia. Militia really isn’t a good term, since local knights and lord’s security forces are sprinkled in with the rank and file soldiers. We’ve been on foot for a few hours, but since we set out at morning, it’s only mid-day.

We’ve been called to a report of some behind the line’s forces making camp in this area, just like I’d hoped for. After a week of waiting around and training with Epsilon daily at Foksly, we’ve finally been ordered out. It’s been a boring few weeks. I mean, after the whole White Phosphorus thing, I literally have not seen a single enemy. After that night, it looked like all of the Sidonian infiltrator guys pulled out. Like, completely abandoned the city. No wonder those inquisitors turned up empty handed on their last raid. It’s pretty scary to think how little of a footprint they left; the only clues being a bunch of missing person reports, presumed to be the fleeing infiltrators. Only one real fishy instance surfaced, bout some butcher’s house. The guy and his daughter just disappeared, and magical analysis showed lots of blood in some sort underground complex. Nobody found a single corpse, so it’s a complete mystery for now.

“I can’t believe we got assigned to rearguard duty!”

Arciel grumbled behind me. Yep. The general of this army, some regional nobody, stuck us, the probable strongest troops, in the rear. I mean, I guess it’s smart to have strong reserves to watch your back or whatever, but I was really hoping to get some action. After sparring and learning from Epsilon a bunch, I’ve been itching to test myself out. This is like, the greatest situation for that. We’re a 10,000 strong local security force, against presumably a thousand guys at most. Not only that, these guys are in our territory, so it should be an easy wrap.

Ah. I just said ‘our’ territory. Y’know, for being a supposed watch dog of Andestine and all, in my time in this world, I’ve been outside of the country more than I have been in it.

Which is pretty terrible for making a name for myself.

Although I guess I could easily exaggerate my exploits. Like, ‘Oh, I fought the third strongest Nekomata’ or whatever. But I’d rather have my repertoire built on a strong foundation of reliable things. To do that, I’d rather be in my apparent country of ownership, or at least surrounded by people of that country and not just these random guys from the Caliphate. Most of them seem to be minimally trained city guards who didn’t sign up actually expecting combat, but they seem cautiously optimistic.

Behind me, Clarke sighs.

“You really want to die, don’t you?”

Clarke asks, maybe in concern or deprecation.

“Who said combat means death huh? I think you’re just a scaredy-cat.”

“If you were told to jump of a bridge-”

“Alright shut up.”

The two of them quipped behind me. They do that a lot. Epsilon and I really don’t talk much, maybe because we’re not a brat or smartass old man.

“For being a Great Noble, you really have no manners.”

“For being an old man, you’re a big meanie.”

The two of them just wouldn’t shut up.

Hoping to block them out of mind, I look over to Epsilon to talk.

“Hey. Ever fought in a big battle like this?”

Epsilon remains completely unphased for a second, probably not even realizing I’m talking to her.

“No. I’ve only ever fought fellow Spartans. If I had to fight an army, than something very bad had to have happened, because women only fight if there’s no Spartan men on the field to defend the city.”

“Self-defense, huh?”

“I suppose.”

Just like me, she doesn’t seem to have been happy to be forcibly dragged out of her world. I’m still debating whether Heroes come from one world, but different times, or completely different worlds. I haven’t been able to ask any other Heroes about it yet though. But maybe I’ll get the chance when I get back to Andestine and size up all the other Heroes ey?

However, interrupting the bickering Clarke and Arciel, a formation of half a dozen horses reveals itself beside us. It’s the commander of this army, Baron Rīgōu.

“How are these…Andestinians…faring, hmm?”

The baron asks Arciel from his horse.

“Other than wondering why you didn’t give me, Arciel Fevili Arcielvitzi, a mount, We’re fine.”

Arciel replied in a pretty snobby voice. I wasn’t expecting that, I thought nobles were always polite with each other.

“Your rank means nothing in this country. I have only the slightest obligation to adhere to you.”

Ouch. This great; two young nobles acting like they’re superior, one a twenty-year-old baron and the other a fifteen-year-old ‘Great Noble’. I’ve yet to figure out Andestine’s aristocracy rankings, so I don’t know what that title means yet.

“So much for a friendly alliance. You have no sense of world politics, baron. Anyway, why should such a great baron such as yourself not be leading the army from the front?”

The baron flashed an enraged glare at Arciel. Jesus, this is guy brattier than Arciel, a literal child.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you Andestine folk could see the magnificent battle about to proceed you.”

Yeah, thanks for sticking us all the way in the back bub. This random baron is forcing international representatives, us, to pay attention to him. Get lost, idiot. I wanna say that, but I don’t need to make a name for myself by being an asshole to nobility, as much as I hate it, I need to suck up to the nobility; at least for awhile.

“Then I wish you the best of luck.”

Arciel rolled her eyes.

Baron Rīgōu smiled, a glare in his eyes, like some sort of greedy pig. I seriously don’t get what goes through rich people’s heads. This guy’s not even ultra-rich, he’s only baron.

The baron was about to set off back to the front of the formation when one of his aids pointed and exclaimed:

“T-the enemy! Right in front of us!”

I turn to where the mounted officer was pointing and sure enough, peeking over the hill on the road are a blockade of people. The soldiers were clad in bright white and blue armor, shining despite the distance. The Sidonian insignia was flaunted on every set of identical armor. Their gear makes our army look like a joke, even the few actual knights and squires we have look like peasants compared to them. Of course, you can’t buy skill, so I don’t think it’s much of a problem.

“Ah! Finally! Real battle! Advance and obliterate them!”

Baron Rīgōu shouted, swiping his hand in a cutting motion.

A bit of an overreaction if I do so say myself. I mean, it’s only like a thirty-guy wide line on the road ahead. The Foksly regional force had been traveling down a wide dirt road surrounded on two sides by forest, so this isn’t exactly a wide-open area to fight. I see the front of the regional army slowly advancing in an organized shield wall toward the supposed Sidonians.

…But, the Sidonians start retreating. Their seemingly unbreakable discipline vanishes and they turn their backs, in rout.

“Ah-haha! They are too few! Chase them down!”

Baron Rīgōu exclaims.

Well, it’s only like thirty guys Mr. Baron, so I’d definitely say they are ‘too few’.

“W-what the hell are you doing!?”

Arciel shouts, her fist up at the baron. Baron Rīgōu gives a scornful glance at Arciel.

“Quiet down child. Now, charge!”

The baron’s entourage set off toward the front of the army in a hurry.

“T-that idiot!”

Arciel, her face turning red, seemed to be in a furry.

“What’s the matter? There’s only like a couple dozen of them.”

She looks at me, furious.

“ ‘Only’!? These are Sidonians! A ‘couple dozen’ of them are equivalent to all four of us and more! That idiot baron is charging straight into a trap!”

I give Arciel a smug smirk. She is just opposed to anything that happens, isn’t she? Must be her rebellious side of puberty. She’s probably mad that the baron is going off an fighting, while she’s stuck way back here.

“Clarke, flight spells!”

I look at Clarke. There’s no way he’s gonna-

“I concur.”

What.

“Ailes de Liberté.”

They both spend minute focusing and say the spell-chant-thingy. They’re really over exaggerating. The both of them are enveloped in a greyish aura and lift up high above us.

“That idiot is more interested in playing soldier boy than leading this army. Shepard, Epsilon, you guys be ready to pull back, we got you covered from the skies!”

Alright. I guess we’re gonna take this seriously then. I draw my sword, an apparent ‘Legendary Weapon’, but it doesn’t seem enchanted with flames or super sharp or whatever, it just looks like a really big and blocky sword. The fact I can hold it with one arm is a testament to how much of a boost in strength heroes get.

I heard from Arciel that Sidonians don’t have a flight spell in their arsenal, or at least don’t have enough mana to use it, so the sky is a human mage’s territory.

Me, Epsilon, with our summoners above us, push forward along with the rest of the army.

…

Man, what a boring day. I went from super excited to get into combat to being bored out of my mind; we’ve been chasing these thirty bastards for five minutes now! An entire army, chasing a single fucking platoon. What.

“That stupid baron should’ve realized it by now!”

And Arciel’s still insane out of her mind. That’s great. Real great. Hopefully she doesn’t accidently fire off one of those laser spells at me.

“He really is an idiot. I don’t think we should follow this army any longer.”

Clarke says, probably going senile.

“We have to abide by our orders…”

Arciel growls.

You know, when I thought of a field battle, I wasn’t thinking of a Benny Hill chase.

But, suddenly, the Sidonian soldiers in the distance stop instantly and turn on a dime. Their unbreakable spear/shield wall being thrown back together within a matter of seconds. It’s easy to tell why. Behind them, is another four hundred something soldiers, all in the same, high quality armor. The four hundred reinforcements, who’d appeared over a hill, quickly rush down it and join their comrades seamlessly.

All within Thirty-seconds, a battlegroup had materialized in front of us. This…could be a problem. I look at the front line of the army, the baron’s bright armor shining like a star amidst the dull armor. Our army isn’t advancing slowly and isn’t in formation like how it was when the Sidonians first appeared…no formation is present. About a fifth of the army are all individuals, rushing the Sidonian wall without a thought.

This is bad, they're running into meat grinder if they don’t advance together!

I see Baron Rīgōu stop dead in his tracks on his horse, panicking, he yells and shouts for the surrounding soldiers to stop and form up. Multiple other unlucky officers attempt to reform the line, but all in all, only about half of the charging infantry cease and join up together, leaving one thousand men charging a wall of four hundred Sidonians.

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“Alright, this is it! Clarke!”

“Right!”

The both of them start creating spells and rising a tad bit higher. Arciel’s told me mages are normally used as strategic field artillery in large battles, they rarely attacked single opponents in a battlefield, unless they were other mages. So, they’re planning bombard the Sidonian line…but our forces are charging them right now!

“Arciel! You’re gonna hit our own guys!”

Arciel doesn’t respond, her eyes remain closed and her brow furrowed in concentration. Just as I’m about to look away though, she says something under her breath that if it weren’t for my hero-enhanced hearing, I wouldn’t hear it.

“They’ll be dead by the time we fire.”

…Ho-kay.

A moment later, the first of the Caliphate infantrymen collapse on the outnumbered Sidonians. There’s so many of our guys, I can’t even see the fighting. As the entirety of the one-thousand charging soldiers make contact and lock in battle, something is very off. The infantrymen in the back are pushing forward but, the infantry men in the front start to rise over the people behind them. Before I’m even able to discern the one minute of battle, the remaining Caliphate troops flee, some running into the forest and some running back to our own lines. It exposes the area where the battle actually took place. The Sidonians…haven’t moved an inch. There was a pile of corpses in front of every single soldier, and not one bright colored suit of armor was among them. There’s gotta be only about hundred or so people left…

What the hell?

As I was staring at the runners, the Sidonian formation opens briefly, in thirty or so spots, revealing through the small cracks, archers. I could barely see them, and before I could look closer, they fired a volley of arrows at the running Caliphate soldiers. Half of them were cut down as the arrows hit their marks. A second volley fires within seconds of the first, and the last of the one thousand infantrymen fell. The Sidonian line closes instantly and obscures the archers completely from view. The battlefield goes silent.

“Clarke! Now! Reysarke!”

“Reysar!”

Before I can even think, our two summoners launch off a laser death beam, and three balls of blue from Arciel and Clarke respectively. The beam closes the long distance in seconds, illuminating the entire battlefield in blue. A huge cloud of dust and dirt are kicked up, but that’s not all; Clarkes spells follow and sink into the cloud of debris, exploding not as big as the beam but still with visible flashes.

…Arciel is wicked powerful now that I think about it…I think she just wiped out four hundred people with a single spell…

My jaw, dropped from Arciel’s display, hits the ground. The debris and dust clears, and a shinning wall of transparent blue covers the Sidonian force. Out of only two cracks in the Sidonian wall, two figures have their arms out. What the hell!? What in the world could block that amount firepower?!

“Mages-Clarke-!”

Arciel, in a panic, is cut off. A barrage of blue bolts fire toward Clarke and Arciel from figures, a dozen of them exploding like flak every second next to them. The medium sized blue bolts explode in black puffs, their center’s hot with ionizing blue magic. The barrage quickly creates a cloud of black around Clarke and Arciel. My stomach chokes.

If Arciel dies, then I die.

But thankfully, as the barrage halts two figures dive from the newly formed black cloud. Wrapped in protection spells, burns and cuts, Arciel and Clarke touch down. The both of them coughing severely. Clarke fall to his knees, a second later collapsing. Me and Epsilon run over.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m-” She coughs, “I’m fine…Clarke…Clarke!”

She starts shaking his body, panicking. She starts casting a healing spell on him.

"This is bad. I barely have any mana left and Clarke’s unconscious.”

Arciel, with black marks of grime on her face and clothes, says quietly whilst hanging over Clarke. The both of them have numerous wounds, akin to shrapnel;…did those Sidonian spells really have flak-like properties?

“We still have nine thousand men…so why does it feel like we already lost?”

Epsilon says what I’m thinking, holding her shield above Clarke. My gaze wanders back to the Sidonian line, they still haven’t moved an inch. Just as I’m about to think a moment of respite had beset us, a single soldier in front of me yelped in confusion.

“What? W-what the hell is it?”

A soldier next to him says anxiously. The man who’d yelped simply rose his handed and pointed to where he was staring. I followed his hand, straight into the adjacent forest next to us.

Within the forest, peeking over numerous obstructions like mounds, rocks and logs, were an array of sleek white helmets, silently staring back at me with their glowing blue visors.

Crap! They were planning to encircle us!

Before I can even shout an alarm, the Sidonians vault their cover simultaneously and begin rushing down the hilled forest, down to the road. They weren’t in formation, and zig-zagged back and forth agilely with their swords and shields. Within seconds, they collapsed upon the unprepared Caliphate infantry, the sound of screams and clashing metal erupting over the entire battlefield at once. Only a few meters from me were three Sidonians, shredding through the Caliphate infantry like grass to a lawnmower. The original formation of a four hundred Sidonians charge forward; only about a minute away from the Caliphate army.

“Shepard! We have to fall back! The army just got encircled!”

Arciels speaks through a coughing fit, and attempts to hoist Clarke onto her shoulders. She fails miserably, and Epsilon walks over, easily doing the same with one hand. Our party of three retreats further back into the Caliphate army, getting as far back and center as we can. Numerous mounted knights stream past us, along with the rest of the high quality rear guard troops who seemed to know a thing or two. A few arrows land sporadically throughout the army, almost always striking flesh. The Caliphate’s own archers were nowhere to be seen, the few that the army had seemed to have been obliterated by arrows and pin-point Sidonian skirmishers already.

I swallow hard.

Do we have a way to retaliate in this situation?!

As we near the center of the army, a familiar mounted man comes riding into few, in a panic.

“Baron!” Arciel coughs, “Order a retreat!”

“I have. They surround us on three sides, they were hiding in the forests weren’t they? The bastards led us into a trap!”

Arciel doesn’t bother to complain.

“Our only choice now is to retreat back down the road and reform our army. Hopefully then the Sidonians will be in one group instead of all around us.”

Arciel nods in agreement. Just as Rīgōu starts to signal his fellow officers, a squad of figures leap over some nearby troops, entering the clearing of soldiers housing us and the baron. At first they looked like normal Sidonian soldiers, the white and blue colors popping against the swath of Caliphate soldiers. But they’re far different, their armor was stripped down, instead of a suit it was more like white plates placed around their bodies on black gambesons. Their limbs all have noticeable gaps of protection for mobility. The four of them only carried a single thin sword each and weren’t wearing helmets.

“Gah!”

Rīgōu shouted in surprise at the mere sight of them, so startled almost falling off his horse.

“Shepard, they’re here for the Baron! Protect him!”

“Right!”

As much as I hate helpless nobles, letting a commander die is a detriment to an army’s structure. I sprint toward the squad of four Sidonians, leaving Epsilon to protect Clarke and Arciel with her shield. Two of the Sidonians have their backs turned toward the other two, cutting down nearby soldiers that were rushing to the Baron’s aid. Baron Rīgōu’s half a dozen elite guards rush and lock blades with the front two, effectively locking down the Sidonians in a swarm. Instead of charging forward into the mass of people, I stand by Baron Rīgōu, with my sword up and ready.

Just as I expected, a single Sidonian vaults Rīgōu’s elite troops, and runs at me with insane speed. The Sidonian swings his sword on impulse toward the Baron. I raise my sword and block him, pushing back the Sidonian’s entire body with my massive strength advantage. The Sidonian is in a bit of shock, not expecting the Baron to still have had a guard. Regardless, he charges once more, his gaze on me instead. He swings, attempting to disengage my sword. Sorry pal, I actually know what that is now thanks to Epsilon. I tilt my blade and block him a second time, pushing his entire body away. Like a game of ping pong, he attacks numerous times, all being physically pushed away only to run at me again. After about a minute, a blur flashes by him. A second Sidonian had come. It looks like Rīgōu’s elites had been killed. The second one jumped, thrusting at the mounted baron right next to me. Sorry, I’m not to keen on hurting ladies but…

I reach at the second Sidonian with my right hand, grabbing onto her black gambeson midair. Her momentum stops dead and I throw her straight into the ground with one hand, away from the baron. The second Sidonian’s impact creates a crater, and a sound akin to an explosion is heard. The girl I’d thrown into the ground coughed up a mouthful of blood. The face of first Sidonian who was attacking me turned to terror as he saw what happened. He stayed still, frozen in indecision.

Before long, Caliphate soldiers approached, restraining the other two. They surround the last standing one and hold him down. Looks like they managed to overwhelm the other Sidonians with pure numbers. It’s likely their plan was to come in, kill Rīgōu, and leave before getting bogged down; but thanks to me, that’s exactly what didn’t happen.

Ha. Feels good to win.

“Ah…ha. Good job men, and thank you, Hero.”

The baron, still flustered from almost being assassinated, says kindly. Wow, I didn’t think nobles could be grateful in any sense of the word.

But…as I’m relishing in victory, a large blot of white rises behind Rīgōu’s back in the distance…

Wait a second. That’s armor. And it’s falling now…right for us!

The figure approaches quickly in midair, not like flying but rather in a large arc, like it’d jumped.

“Baron Rīgōu watch out!”

I shout to him, but it’s too late. The falling suit of armor lands. An ear-piercing crash assaults my ears and the ground under me quakes. The baron, is sliced in half; from top to bottom, even the horse under him is dissected. The remnants of the baron and his horse collapse toward the ground like string-less puppets. In the baron’s wake, is a single person. The armor they wore was the thickest I’ve seen so far in this world, bright white with blue just like all the other Sidonian armor though. The person held in their hands a long voulge, and a thick steel diamond shaped shield mounted to their left shoulder. As my gaze settled on the persons head, I realized it was a female, with blonde hair, blue eyes and a face that really didn’t belong on this battlefield.

Wait, how the hell did she jump that far into the air with all that armor on!?

“Wow~! You rangers are really something else ey? Able ta just walk over to the commander and all~! Mmm, looks like you’re in a bit of trouble right now, huh?”

The girl says, smiling. Her voice was carefree and airheaded, completely contradicting her blood-spattered shield and voulge.

“Lady Salchyon!”

“Ah, thank Sidonia; we’re saved!”

The captured Sidonians say, apparently relieved. The Caliphate soldiers slowly back up, terror on their faces.

“…that’s the Demon of The Battlefield right?”

“…no way…no way…”

“Shit…”

The Caliphate soldiers almost all release their grips on the Sidonians, backing up whilst eyeing the girl.

“Aww~! Thanks for letting go of my friends! You’re all really nice… Aren’t you!?”

The girl says the last part with a crazed look. Before the soldiers can react, she blurs past the no longer restrained Sidonians, crashing into the Caliphate soldiers. She closed the distance in less than a second.

Left and right, people were bisected, dissected, and impaled. A single swing of her voulge cutting down swaths of soldiers like a scythe reaping wheat. Limbs flew through the air, never landing on dirt that wasn’t soaked with blood.

Soldiers, grown men trained in combat, fled with their backs turned to this one, smiling girl. Not a single man took more than a millisecond to kill, even if they raised their sword, the girl’s voulge would cut it in half like butter.

“W-what the hell…”

I mutter under my breath, my feet shaking.

It wasn’t long before the immediate vicinity was clear of Caliphate soldiers; they either were cut down by this crazed girl, or ran off to the sides, only to be killed by the surrounding Sidonians from the forest.

Then, she set her sights, on me.

Within two seconds, she was mere feet away from me, preparing to bisect me with her voulge. On pure instinct, my sword rises, and my legs snap into a stance. The voulge impacts my blade, creating an explosion of air. My entire body slides with the voulge. This girl is stronger than me?! Me, a Hero with enhanced strength? Well, at least I didn’t die in an single swipe.

“Naww…there’s always one…”

The girl says, quite disappointed. Yeah, no way. No way in hell. I need to run. Now.

Before I can even turn though, she throws a trio of thrusts at me, I manage to block one, the other two impact on my armor. The places they impact sever the steel like paper. I’m wounded. I’m bleeding in both my shoulders. Of course, it doesn’t feel like it thanks to me being a Hero, pain is greatly reduced. I’d probably go into shock with this amount of pain.

“Tch. Heroes, whadaya gonna do?”

Shit. Shit!

I can’t run, she’s too fast!

I can’t kill her, that’s out of the question.

The last remnants of the Caliphate army are being cut down by the Sidonians in my peripheral vision. I glance behind me, remembering that we were only encircled on three sides.

But blocking the road, are one hundred Sidonians in similar armor to the girl in front of me, all of them holding halberds or the like.

“Aww…you’re trying to run. It’s too bad Miss Elmere put my halberdiers waaaaay in the back! Now they won’t have any fun!”

This is it.

I’m surrounded on all sides. Clarke, Arciel and Epsilon are no where to be seen. Nobody but Sidonians are in my view now. My only allies, are the ones laying in pools of viscera and blood.

“...Tch!”

I audibly click my tongue, and clench my sword.

“I’m not going down that easily bitch!”

A slash. I fly through the air. I can’t feel my legs. My view, is only of the sky.

It hurts.

I think…I think I got chopped in half.

It hurts! Shit!

The girl appears in my vision looking down, smiling. She brought her voulge up with two hands, and stabbed it down at me. It impaled my chest, cleanly piercing my armor. A knot forms at my throat, and blood streams out of my mouth.

Why…

She raised her voulge and stabbed it down.

Why won’t…why won’t…

She raised her voulge and stabbed it down, successively, over and over again, her smile growing wider and wider.

“That’s a great face your making!”

Why won’t I die!?

But, my visions fades, my insides most likely looking like soup.

Ah. Finally. I’m dead.

…

“Well, have a fun nap?”

Huh. What!?

“Yeah, you uh, you kinda died.”

That snark! I try to turn my head, but there’s only black, I don’t even have a body, or a head, I think.

“Well, good thing I was close by, or, y’know, you would have really died.”

What the hell. I’m supposed to dead. And there’s this really annoying and familiar voice. But for some reason, I really don’t wanna remember it.

“Gah! It’s me you idiot! It’s you’re summoner Arciel Fevili Arcie-”

Jesus Christ shut up with your fucking name! If I’m trapped in purgatory, the literal last thing I’d want is your goddamn voice! You know what, this is hell. This is actually, hell.

“Jeez, you’re not ‘Dead’. Well actually you are, but not really.”

Will I ever come back, or am I just trapped here with you?

“Right now, you’re inside of me.”

Ha, ha.

“Yeah, real mature, Shepard. As soon as I have the mana to, I’ll recreate you, okay? It’s just, the mana that I did regenerate during that battle, I used to cast a flight spell on me and Epsilon, and we managed to escape.”

So you left me to die!?

“Oh suck it up you big crybaby. It happens to all Heroes. I knew you wouldn’t really die, and when we saw Lady Salchyon and her Halberdiers we knew it was over. So we managed to punch a hole through the Sidonian line and escape with a few others. We’re in the wilderness right now, all the survivors are really depressed. But, good news, Clarke made a complete recovery! So uh…”

So, how long am I shut in here with you?

“Eh, maybe like a few hours? Since I don’t have to maintain you, my mana regeneration is a lot higher now. It takes like, all my mana to rebuild you, so, uh, get comfy.”

Yep. Hell.

“So how’d you die?”

This crazy little girl with a voulge thing and a big shield got me.

“You mean…? Uh, I’m sorry about that…she has a reputation to be um…not friendly with Heroes.”

I noticed.

“Uh…uh…sorry about that…”

Yeah yeah. Whatever. I wasn’t scared. I fought her pretty well.

“…”

…

Silence befalls us. You know, it’s peaceful in here. My mind wanders around, until it lands on the Sidonians. They were organized, and didn’t seem to communicate at all. They ripped through us. That girl who killed me, she was on a whole ‘nother level. I wonder if I’ll ever even be strong enough to land a single blow on her. Probably not. We were slaughtered. I was slaughtered.

My mind flashes back to those Nekomata in Foksly, and how I felt bad for them being murdered like they did.

Suddenly, I don’t feel so bad about it anymore.

***