Bloodshed. Everywhere. It was a war, after all. Endless fighting, no matter where one turned.

When Calix felt his arms grow heavy, he still forced himself to keep swinging his sword. Such a simple action drained his energy, but he couldn’t afford to stop.

There was no time for rest, not until one side was defeated. For that, he had to keep killing, no matter how much it sickened him.

He continued like that for a long time, mindlessly slashing at his foes, resisting the urge to throw up at the stench of death. Yet, through his daze, Calix managed to make eye contact with one of the enemy knights — and _oh._

There was no doubt; the knight was easily the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen.

Probably having lost his helmet amidst the chaos, his face was out for the world to see. Dark red irises gazed at Calix, making his heart beat the slightest bit faster. The eyes were missing the glint of life — expected, from the war — but that made it all the more striking.

The stranger’s face and armor were stained from his previous victims, viscous red liquid slowly dripping to the ground. Swishing his sword, he ridded it from the blood of the person he’d just stabbed.

To Calix, it was breathtaking — a horrifyingly beautiful scene with an equally beautiful man, taking place amidst the sounds of metal clashing and screams of pain.

Perhaps the bloodshed had ruined Calix more than he thought. He remembered having a strong moral code, but he’d lost it long ago. Despite that, how broken was he, to find such a gruesome scene so _stunning_?

“Word of advice, don’t get so distracted during a war,” the enemy knight spoke up with a crooked smile, pulling Calix out of his thoughts.

He rolled his eyes at the comment, suddenly finding himself rejuvenated. With his newfound energy, he swung his sword to the man’s neck, using just enough force to make a cut.

“Word of advice, don’t let the enemy put their sword to your neck,” Calix mocked.