The sword in my hand is for you.
You are a transparent but sharp sword. Only I can bear your weight. For you, I passed through thousands of armies and thousands of horses, passed through three ghosts, and the sword pointed directly at the heart.
I like you, like an ancient sword that never sleeps. Every time I take it out of its sheath, I protect you.
It turns out that in this age where blood is the drink, there is still such love, called like.
The stars part and the twilight emerges.