Unlike the beginning, when Ray had been a nobody, after two years of constant toil and bloodshed he had already become someone well known.
At a young age, coupled with his strength at the Advanced rank and his striking looks, Ray had become a familiar figure across the army camps. Soldiers whispered his name with respect. New recruits looked at him with admiration. Veterans watched him with guarded approval. He was no longer just another blade on the field.
Ray wiped the blood from his sword and slid it back into its sheath. He turned his head and looked at Florence.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I am," Florence replied, then narrowed her eyes. "But can you stop rushing forward like an idiot?"
Ray turned away immediately, pretending he had not heard her.
"Damn it," Florence shouted, stomping her foot in annoyance. "You are ignoring me again."
