The ground trembled rhythmically.

  From afar, a giant figure leapt into the air. He landed in the middle of a phalanx of knights, squashing them like insects. The impact startled Elira, sending her tumbling to the ground. Mud and blood splattered against her uniform, sticking to her hair.

  Elira glanced to her side. A head stared back at her. Eyes wide, mouth agape. No body attached, just a head.

  Elira stood up, looking down at her cigar lying in the mud. It was ruined. Her mouth twitched.

  "Tch."

  She walked through the battlefield. To others, war was a desperate struggle for survival. To her, it was just mindless chores. Soldiers came, soldiers died. One man had his legs cut off; he was still crawling, his scream muted by her domain. Her monsters emerged from the shadows, stomping on the man's head. It exploded like a squash fruit, gray matter splashing onto her boots.

  Elira looked around. The same scene repeated everywhere. People screamed, people died. It was chaos. Yet, inside Elira's domain, there was only silence.

  It was peaceful to her.

  But she wasn’t the only anomaly on the battlefield.

  There was another figure standing amidst the carnage, completely unbothered by the violence swirling around them. A heavy robe covered their form; she couldn't even see a face. But their eyes glowed from within the hood. Everywhere those eyes looked, soldiers fell like broken dolls.

  Elira moved her gaze away and continued walking. A man with a stitched mouth was charred by holy magic. A red-haired woman, one she didn't know, but had seen in the bar, had her stomach slashed open.

  It was a bloodbath.

  Elira sat down on the corpse of a horse. Its body was still warm, twitching slightly, but it made for a better seat than the mud.

  The ground trembled again. This time, it was the Imperial artillery.

  Fireballs, larger than carriages, rained down from the sky. Explosions blossomed everywhere, incinerating the enemy and the "disposable assets" alike. After all, they were just a bunch of criminals. The Empire wanted to squeeze every last bit of use out of them, even if it meant using them as bait.

  The bombardment was the final straw. The battle was a wipeout.

  Elira sat at the edge of the transport wagon, her feet dangling. A fresh cigar sat between her lips, smoke puffing out into the cooling evening air. She watched the field of corpses get further and further away.

  "Where did you get those cigars?"

  Sera asked. She was sitting next to Elira, cuddling with Garrick. Elira could never understand how they could be so intimate while both smelling like rotten meat and old blood.

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  "...Major Viktor gave them to me."

  "What? That grumpy old man gave you cigars? How?"

  Sera leaned in, clearly wanting to pester Elira for the gossip. But Elira just shrugged, her eyes still fixed on the bloody mound on the horizon.

  This might be my life from now on.

  The bar was noisy. Some old faces were gone, replaced by fresh meat.

  Elira sat at the counter, her hair still moist from the bath. Nyx sat next to her, sipping fruit juice while Oren helped dry her hair with a towel. Garrick was drinking in a corner, Sera leaning against his shoulder. Others partied, celebrating another day of not dying.

  Elira watched them dancing, drinking, living as if they might die the very next day. She couldn’t be like them. She couldn’t relate to them.

  But she was one of them now.

  Something cold touched her hand. It was a cup of alcohol, the same amber liquid as last time. Elira blinked, looking up at the bartender.

  "It’s on the house, kid." He winked at her.

  Elira shrugged.

  Why not?

  She took the cup and gulped it down. The taste was sharp, burning, but with a sweet aftertaste.

  "Another one?" the bartender asked.

  "...Sure."

  Elira walked back toward her quarters, the world spinning lazily around her. Today, Elira discovered that she had absolutely no tolerance for alcohol. It seemed she had lost her way to the dorms and ended up at the training field.

  Inside the open grounds, a person sat against the stone wall, gazing up at the night sky.

  Judging by the robe, it was the person with the glowing eyes Elira saw on the battlefield. Seeing Elira stumbling in, the figure stood up, moving toward her.

  "Are you okay?"

  The voice was soft, like a little girl.

  Elira stopped. She looked the person up and down. The figure was massive, over two meters tall, even bigger than Garrick in his human form. And such a cute voice came from a mountain like that?

  "Uhh... what are you doing here?" Elira asked, slurring slightly.

  "I can’t sleep. So I came here to look at the stars."

  "...Can I join you?"

  "Yes. Yes, you can."

  Elira and the woman sat down on the grass, looking up. There were no stars tonight, just heavy clouds.

  "...How did you get to this place?" the woman asked after a moment of silence.

  "I killed a bunch of noble kids that were bullying me and my friends..." Elira mumbled, the alcohol making her honest.

  "Oh... I’m sorry."

  "..."

  "...How did you get here?"

  "..."

  Now that they were sitting next to each other, Elira could see that under the hood, there were scales and fur.

  Out of her drunken mind, Elira asked, "Are you a dragon?"

  "Huh? N-no?"

  "Then what are you?" Elira leaned in, invading the stranger's personal space to take a closer look.

  A cloth blindfold covered the woman’s eyes, but the lower half of her face was visible. She looked young, much younger than Elira, actually. The edge of her jaw was covered with gray, bluish scales.

  "I-I don’t know..." the girl whispered.

  "What's your name?"

  "M-Mira. Mira is my name."

  "Then you’re a Mira."

  "W-what?"

  "Pfft..."

  Elira plopped down next to Mira, this time much closer. She took out a cigar from her pocket and lit it.

  "You want some?"

  "N-no."

  Elira shrugged. Together, they continued watching the starless sky.