Gatts closed his eyes, letting his back fall over the firm grassland that hours ago had witnessed a brutal battle. His sword arm still ached from the effort of cutting down Chuda knights and he knew that sometime he would have to tend to the flesh wound on his left tight. The bastard he had killed had been lucky enough to wound him before dying but he wouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing he had injured the famed Hawks captain. At this pace, Midland would wipe out one-third of Chuda's main armies but he wasn't interested in the intricacies of politics. As long as he had a reason to swing his sword, he was happy.

When he opened his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Griffith as he talked enthusiastically with a court envoy. It was rumored that Griffith was about to be knighted. That made him feel uneasy. It was one thing to be a mercenary, to serve yourself and to fight for yourself. It was a different thing to belong to a kingdom's army. A strange feeling lodged inside his mind. The fact that the closer Griffith got to his objective, the shorter his time remaining as part of the Hawks became.

It wasn't going to be today or tomorrow, but soon, soon he would part from the charismatic man in the silver armor and the undying dream. Until then, his sword would remain swinging to build Griffith's dream...until he found a dream of his own.