The tip of the longsword was thrust forward.
The one wielding the sword was a beautiful girl with silver-colored hair that stretched all the way to her waist. She looked down at the youth from the top of her horse.
"Throw aside your bow."
The youth complied obediently, placing the bow that he held in his hands on the ground.
He did not feel like resisting. His arrows were already exhausted.
In their surroundings were countless corpses lying on the ground. Broken swords, spears that protruded from the ground like tombstones, and the wind that carried the thick smell of blood.
"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"
The girl's refreshing voice resounded, as if it were blowing away the smell of blood. She was dignified, and despite that she possessed a radiance in those curious crimson eyes.
The youth answered her question, mesmerized.
"... Tigrevurmud Vorn."
After asking him several questions, she sheathed her sword in the scabbard at her waist, satisfied.
And then she smiled sweetly at the youth.
"From now on, you belong to me."
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