"What poem?" The God of War stared at me, tilting his head.
"Nothing," I replied indifferently.
And finally stopped gazing at him in curiosity
I might just die in furiousness
…
The God of War perceived the other kids had finally awakened from their epiphany and slowly observed their reactions.
Most lowered their head and shame, while some had their eyes set ablaze.
It was admirable.
At least, tens of them fuel their imagination of going into war, as if they were born to be a soldier, not a kid who herded the sheep.
This difference compared to the children who accepted that their life was just to clean the cow dung made the God of War feel satisfied.
After all, it was not only him who thought that becoming a soldier at war was a million times better than living a peaceful life that reached a hundred years.
