The white armor was stained with red. Sir Oren's body had been pierced so many times, with blades and bullets, and yet by the sight of the battlefield prior to the God's fight with the soldiers, it was clear he had not gone quietly.

Flora was silent as she stared at the dead body of the knight. She didn't scream, nor did she make any other sound. Instead, she proceeded to walk towards the fallen warrior, and slowly sink to her knees. Quietly, without saying a single word, she raised her small, warm hand to the man's helmet and placed it on the cooled steel, tracing her slender fingers along the slit for his eyes, then the cracks that revealed his other eye, before simply stopping as she stared at his empty blue eye.

She didn't say anything else. But anyone who chose to investigate would be able to see the tears running down her cheeks, falling into her lap and staining her dress.

The soldier who had attempted to grasp at one of the grenades thrashed against the grasping arms of the dead with howl of rage.

"Your blasphemies won't go unpunished!" he cried, even now struggling to reach the weapon in spite of the corpses holding him back, "You'll all die, just like that Klois bastard! All of you!"

The fanaticism of the imperial soldiers was growing ever more apparent.

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