"Woohoo! Queen, the blood dyes your long hair red..."
The few strands of hair exposed outside the troubadour's cloak vibrated with the air, keeping the wind in the song.
"What the crown is telling is 'hatred'..."
The feather-light toes of the dancers have blood-colored winding marks, and the rhythm of the dance is monotonous.
"The voice of conquest resounded through the tower..."
The mercenaries hummed at will, and the changeable scales were natural horns praised by the earth beneath their feet.
"'At this moment, offer yourself up'..."
The priest drawled the syllables, and the dazzling light of the dome was the voice of obscure praises from ancient books.
"The weakened 'net' and the children of the gods..."
The witch crooned, and the passionate and sharp folk tune was recited into a long and distant chant.
"Maybe you don't understand what kind of favor that is..."
The officer stroked his sword, the rusty iron clinked, and he prayed a poem belonging to the vague peace.
This is a story about war, swords, magic and flowers.
Annotation
The target has no CP because there are too many CPs.
There are all kinds of sexual orientations. There are also different sexual orientation transitions. Basically everyone has CP. In view of the author's personal preferences, there are more BLBG.
I worked very hard to write in a translation style, but in the end, it turned out to be a combination of Chinese and Western writing style that requires literature and art but not literature and art, and translation but not translation...
My unique way of sensationalizing is disgusting. But there are not many sensational parts. You can rest assured.