Prologue

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She's the fleet-footed girl who hurtles across the plains, with flowers in her hair and sword in her hands. Gold dust runs through her veins, pumping her heart full of burning flames. She's soft like silk and would slip through your hands if you didn't hold onto her. Yet, her savage ways would shock you. She is silk wrapped in lighting. She has no mercy for the unjust, no mercy for the lawless, no mercy for the inhuman. Her name ripples across the battlefield like a prayer, loosely falling off the lips of soldiers and demons. 

She may be a child but her wisdom surpasses her predecessors. When enraged, iron fills her lungs with every breath she takes, with lips like glass she cuts down those in her way. She is shaped by thunder and battle scars. Soulful eyes pierce through your very soul, speckled with the life of those she had taken and those she had lost. Cold and calculating, she will not hesitate if she detects a hint of a lie. But that is what she had learned. She will not watch you fall, for she has long turned her back on you. 

She, the girl who would not settle until the blood of her enemies run deep into the ground used to be mortal and kind. But her kindness was not to be taken for granted, she'd shower you with love but betray her and you'd not live to see the light of dawn. When the innocent are summoned to a battlefield even the darkest of demons flee. She, the Princess of War who will not retreat until Guardians and demons alike beg for mercy.

She, who bears the gifts, bears the weight of souls. 

She is the Halfing, the Half Immortal.

If you wager a battle, she'll give you a war. 

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