Smoke and Flames of War, No Regrets in Granting Life

I remember the first time I saw you. It was on the Path of Shura. Your figure shifted behind the dark green demonic mist, your long hair blowing in the wind as the Thunder Wolf Beast beneath you slowly advanced. Step by step, you emerged from the raging inferno, from the war-torn smoke where lightning serpents ran rampant.

Your eyes were sealed by a curse, your brown hair hung straight down, and you held your long halberd crosswise. Silent and still, your naturally smiling lips pressed tightly together, your bearing solemn and imposing.

Breathtaking.

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