Since when did everything change? What was the cause of it? How did it happen? Where did it happen? Why did it happen? Constant questions had been looming in Tristan's mind ever since this war started. He knew he wasn't at fault for the war proceeding this way, but he couldn't help but blame himself.
"If only I was a bit faster, if only I was a bit stronger, if only I was there beside him... maybe this war wouldn't have happened."
Tristan knew the death of the hero wasn't caused by him, but the grip in his heart tightened as the regrets of what happened that day still seeped through his soul. The memory of his fallen comrade haunted him, a shadow that darkened even his brightest moments.
"Haah!" Cutting down the demon in front of him, Tristan felt the surge of a heated battle. Every time he faced a demon, his anger boiled over. It was a rage born of loss and fueled by guilt.
