Small Home

The men and women of this town had all been prepared to die. The threat they faced was too great and they were simply too weak. 

They knew that they should be happy simply for the sake of surviving, they should be grateful, thanking their lucky stars that they could see another day. However, how could pain be washed away by logic?

"General?"

The blue eyed youth always stood silently by Leonel's side. Seeing him blankly staring at the pain and grief before him, he couldn't help but check up on him. 

"Hm?" Leonel absentmindedly responded, his gaze never shifting. 

There was a little girl over there, no more than seven years old, clutching the blood stained scabbard her father had left home with. 

Not far from her, there was a woman. She had a young and youthful face. Though she wasn't extraordinarily beautiful, she was very pretty, maybe even the prettiest within this small, malnourished town.