Go Away.

A maleficent aura enveloped the battlefield. It felt as though a crimson tide was washing over them all, but instead of carrying the characteristic warmth and thickness of blood, it was instead cold and lifeless, seeping into their pores and causing their hearts to quake. 

Aina slowly walked from the military tent, its flaps making way for her. Somehow, despite her petite body, she became the center of the entire battlefield. Even City Lord White who was in the midst of sending a final death blow toward Lancelot paused, an eerie look in her eye locking onto Aina as well. 

Aina's footsteps halted. The scars that danced across her face seemed to come to life, raging about like living, breathing flood dragons. The grew a size, radiating out with a heat that made the temperature of the battlefield skyrocket.