The Price of Victory
A few hours after the battle, Clara finally regained consciousness.
A dull ache lingered throughout her body as her eyelids slowly fluttered open. The scent of herbs drifted through the quiet room, mixing with the faint smell of smoke that still lingered from the battle outside. Soft light filtered through the cracked wooden window, illuminating the simple infirmary where she had been treated.
For a brief moment, everything felt strangely peaceful.
Then reality came rushing back.
As she slowly sat up on the bed, the first face she saw was Videl sitting beside her. The blonde woman looked exhausted. Dirt and dried blood stained her white sleeves, while faint cuts covered her hands. Even so, relief flashed across her sapphire eyes the moment she noticed Clara had awakened.
"What happened?"
The words escaped Clara almost instinctively.
The instant she asked, fragments of memory crashed into her mind.
The endless tide of undead...
The desperate battle...
