Who does this village belong to? Who does its produce belong to? It isn't the arrogant aristocrat's nor the oppressive landowner's. The village, this land... it's ours! Her spirit was filled with rage. She lost many friends and family members to this war. They had failed, dying the pure white snow in vermilion. Still, she refused to give up. Gun in hand, she beleived she would achieve freedom one day. The aristocrats had fallen. The landowners ran out of fear, tails between their legs. Then the brigands came. She picked up her gun once more to protect her village and her people.