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The greatsword tore through space. Like a string snapping, the blade shot forward, shearing the neck of the nearest horse. Only moments ago, the steed had charged like a legend reborn. Now, it crumpled, spraying blood across the stones. Its severed head rolled, eyes bulging wide, staring blankly into the void.
The blade didn't stop. It rose, then swung down at Leandro with such speed it seemed to vanish between beats. He caught it with his slender sword. Regardless, Miyu—headless, lifeless—collapsed to the ground.
"…"
Leandro stood there, drenched in his companion's blood. Each droplet that touched him clung as though unwilling to fall. Thirteen years together, not a single day apart.
Was Miyu afraid he'd abandon her? Should he have promised he would never leave? He had torn Miyu from his side countless times, yet still, Miyu followed...
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