42 Gun Powder

Humans were frail. Their skin was made of paper, smooth but thin. It was easy to kill a human. Weston had seen the light fled from their eyes multiple times, just as their bodies went limp. Humans seemed to fear death, but he did not understand why.

Death was an escape from this world. What was there to be scared of? Was it death they feared, or the prospect of a painful one?

Regardless of the answer, an order was an order. Weston would carry out His Majesty's wishes. He swore an oath. He intended to uphold it, until the very end of his life—which was considerably long.

"Lady Rose, was it?" Weston said with disinterest. He cast her a single glance, filled with irritation.

Weston did not understand His Majesty's obsession with this mere mortal. She was thin, plain, and demure. What could a woman like her do for the prosperous Empire of Wraith?

Adeline Rose seemed like she would cry over the smallest inconvenience. He would never bow his head to the likes of her.