It was a night when the moon barely managed to rise.

Someone sat atop a giant boulder, tilting a cup of alcohol. Strands of their long hair fell into the cup, but they paid no mind.

Reflected in the alcohol’s surface was the moon hanging in the night sky. The figure glanced at it briefly before downing the contents of the cup in one gulp.

Despite the disheveled appearance, there was an aura of nobility about them. This was likely due to the immense power and status they wielded.

Behind the figure drinking, the green forest was soaked in blood.