The airship of the Boar Zodiac family cut through the ash-laden skies like a blade, its surface gleaming in the pale light of the sun.
It was a masterpiece of engineering, adorned with the intricate sigil of the Boar Zodiac—a charging boar with tusks of gold—and lined with spiked battlements that gave it an aura of menace. As it neared the borderlands between the Holy Church and the Zodiac families, the harsh winds carried the stench of death from the battlefield below.
Beneath the airship, the land was a wasteland. Broken weapons, shattered banners, and corpses of soldiers from both sides littered the ground.
Smoke rose from scattered fires, mingling with the low cries of wounded men who hadn't yet succumbed to their injuries. This was no place for pleasantries, yet preparations were underway for an audacious display of civility—a lunch table being set in the heart of this carnage.
