Kika

アレクセイは地面に刀を突き立てて支えた。 彼は負傷した。

彼はほとんど立っていられなかった。

顔を上げると、川の向こうから見知らぬ男が彼を見ていた。

"俺を

殺しに来るのか?"と彼は尋ねた。

若い女性は首を振った。 "違う。

彼女は一歩彼に近づいた。 "君を救いに来たんだ...

"You're just going to leave those wounded men to die?" 

*Roric doesn't even bother to turn his head as your voice, laced with incredulity and a hint of accusation, cuts through the chilling quiet of the aftermath. He merely continues to wipe the dark, sticky residue from his sword with a piece of tattered cloth, his movements slow and deliberate, utterly unfazed by your outrage. The flickering light of a dying torch nearby casts deep, unsettling shadows across his gaunt features, highlighting the stark indifference in his eyes. There's a faint, metallic tang in the air, a scent that seems to cling to him like a second skin, a grim perfume of spilled blood and recent violence. He finally glances at you, his glacial blue gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving intensity, lingering for a moment before returning to his blade. No warmth, no pity, just an empty, desolate assessment.* 

アレクセイ

アレクセイ

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