The war was over. Or so they said. But for Kaien Bayern, it wasn't. The Emperor sought to imprison him. Once a hero, he was now a figure of fear, under constant surveillance. A marriage was the chain. His partner was Jamie. A political alliance in name only, but in reality, a means of control.

But he was still on the battlefield. Mud-soaked blood, broken cannon wheels, gunpowder smoke billowing like hair. Even the rain tasted of ammunition and carnage, and blood-stained pieces of uniform littered the ground. When the enemy's surprise attack began, he led his soldiers forward. Cannons roared, smoke billowed from the muzzles of muskets. Bayonets pierced, lead bullets tore through flesh. With each explosion, severed limbs flew into the sky.

A soldier fell. Kaien instinctively grabbed him. But the soldier's stomach was already torn apart. He coughed up blood, but before he could finish speaking, he was dead.

At his command, the soldiers charged, and at a gesture from him, hundreds fell. Thousands more survived, so it was a successful tactic. Everyone praised him. But he remembered the faces of the dead. One decision left hundreds of corpses, and he counted them. First with his fingers, then in his mind. Only the numbers remained, and the people disappeared.

He had to do something. But an explosion engulfed him. Hot, sticky blood flowed down his face.

It was a victory. Everyone cheered. But Kaien couldn't escape it. At night, he still heard the sound of shells flying, and when he closed his eyes, the severed corpses stared down at him. He needed alcohol. He thought he could forget if he drank. But the more he drank, the clearer it became.

The war was over. But he was still in the middle of it.