It had been three long days since the brutal clash between the Souichiro Faction and the Kouhei Faction, with the Kouhei Faction finally declared the winner of the bloody war.
The battlefield had been soaked in blood and littered with the weight of sacrifice. But then again, what kind of war would ever be a war without the grim price of casualties?
Among those who wouldn't be returning were the officially declared dead with the first being Satoshi, who'd been beheaded by Kyouka in one swift strike, and Masayoshi, who'd bled out, his wounds scorched further by the holy power that kept burning him from the inside out until he just... stopped.
Natsuya and Yuzuha hadn't fallen, but they'd been broken down so badly it would take years—maybe a whole decade—just to piece themselves back together, bone and flesh stubbornly knitting with time.
Souichiro was somehow still alive too, though his eyes hadn't opened since. He just lay there, trapped in sleep that looked too deep to touch.
