Finding himself on the medieval style battlefield again didn't bring Lucas any nostalgic feeling. And he didn't even bother trying to understand the reasons for the battles that seemed tacit.
Still bare chested, showing the white lines like thin scars he had kept, and with a piece of cloth tied around his forehead, Lucas had his now long hair in a ponytail.
He could have cut it, though it would've turned messy, but he kind of gave up that right to someone back home. So he could only consider himself fortunate that his hair slowed its growth at some point, reaching just the shoulders despite the time that had passed.
While he didn't know the reason why, he saw the phenomenon as the manifestation of some aspects of his new metabolism. The same one that kept his hair smooth, as from what he had heard back on Earth, it should have been oily from the lack of care.
