Sprawling on the muddy floor, Cressida was groaning in unbearable pain. Beside her lay the previously confident Berserker, now a broken shell of a man.
He was crying in agony, his face deathly pale from blood loss. He had lost his right hand and his left leg completely.
On his chest was a ghastly blade cut that showed his shattered ribs and all his exposed organs.
Every breath was as difficult as ascending to the heavens themselves.
'I should not have come on this mission,' was his only coherent thought.
Everyone had learned about the horror of the Grim Reaper through rumors and reports. But since none had ever experienced his terror firsthand, they did not understand the true nightmare they were about to confront.
Until now.
Looking at the three red moons hanging in the sky, mocking his hapless situation, he could not help but sigh heavily.
He knew that his greatest misfortune was going against such an unstoppable calamity.
