War.
I had read about it. In my last life, it was something that happened on screens, to people in places I would never see. In this one, it lived in history lessons—the Heavenly Demon, the first Vampire War, Liam Kagu and Tiamat and a continent that had nearly burned.
I had fought before. But fighting had edges. It ended, and when it ended you counted who was still standing.
War didn't end. It just moved somewhere else.
The evacuation plane lifted off from the Southern Sea Sun Palace, and through the viewport I watched the island fall away beneath us. The Eastern elites were still holding the line—fire and lightning and sky-blue sword light flashing along the shore, tight formations pressed against a tide of crimson robes and pale, fast shapes that moved too well to be human.
