All the Blood in This World Belongs to Me

Behind the dark palace's gate.

Simon Torre adjusted his heavy chain armor. He gripped onto the pike in his hand tightly—it had been cleaned until it was glossy and shiny. He stood behind his master, his cousin-brother, Enrique Torre, who was seventeen years older than him. Simon regulated his breathing.

There were countless knights and warriors beside and behind him. They stood close to each other behind the palace floodgate. Everyone's expressions were different. Some were so nervous they were trembling, and some had determined gazes, unflinching in the face of death. There were also some who had numb expressions and lax gazes. Quite a number of people were whispering among themselves. Simon could vaguely hear words such as 'monster' and 'complete annihilation'.