War was like a greedy wolf, devouring lives and wealth, bringing death and desolation.
After leaving the battlefield, Black-and-White Bear could still smell rust and char in the air. The moans of the dying and the shrill clash of blades still rang in his ears.
Black-and-White Bear had just finished a brief, bloody tug-of-war with the Retalians. They had won, but the joy of victory had never arrived. Instead, it weighed on his heart like a heavy lump of lead.
He sat in his crude barracks room. Outside the window, the camp was filled with that peculiar mixture of bustle and exhaustion that followed a battle.
Holding a whetstone, Black-and-White Bear slowly, mechanically worked it along the Cross Blade that had accompanied him through countless battles.
The cold edge reflected the dim light outside the window, illuminating a face deeply etched by weather and war. His eyes held an unusual emptiness and a trace of weariness he could not put into words.
He had killed too many people. Battle no longer brought him the thrill of blood pounding through his veins, only endless exhaustion and the prospect of more shattered lives.
So when Old Li pushed open his door, found him tending to the Cross Blade, and told him there was a mission, Black-and-White Bear's first impulse was to refuse.
But Old Li still persuaded him, with just one argument... "This main quest is about players taking people out to save lives, not kill them... You managed to get combat trauma in a game. That takes some doing.
"Don't get too caught up in it!"
After a moment of silence, Black-and-White Bear felt that the Warband leader was right. Something really was wrong with him.
But Black-and-White Bear did not want to change who he was now. Some people enjoyed