The heavy sound of armored footsteps echoed through the tavern as she entered, her dark presence turning heads. Patrons whispered, wary of the imposing figure clad in blackened steel, a crimson cape flowing behind her. Without a word, she sat at an empty table, her metal gauntlets resting on the wooden surface. The waitress, nervous but professional, approached with a menu.

Waitress: "U-Um… What can I get for you?"

Slowly, she reached up, grasping the sides of her fearsome helmet. With a smooth motion, she lifted it off—revealing a striking yet unexpectedly refined face. Crimson eyes flicked up to meet the waitress’s gaze, her expression unreadable.

Shinju: "Meat. Lots of it." Her voice, though firm, held no malice—just a warrior’s simple, straightforward hunger.

The waitress nodded quickly and scurried away. Around the tavern, a few onlookers murmured, taken aback by the contrast between the terrifying armor and the young woman beneath it. Some warriors in the corner exchanged amused glances.

Drunken Swordsman: "Hah! Thought you’d be some grizzled old knight under all that steel!"

She didn’t react at first, merely resting her helmet beside her. Then, with a slow turn of her head, she fixed the man with a cold, piercing stare.

Shinju: "Want to test that theory?" Her voice was calm, almost bored, but the air around her grew heavy.

The swordsman chuckled nervously and raised his mug in surrender. Moments later, the waitress returned, placing down a massive plate of roasted meat, bread, and vegetables. Without hesitation, she picked up a drumstick, biting into it with the same precision she carried into battle. The contrast between her regal demeanor and the way she devoured her meal was almost comical.

As she ate, she could feel the lingering stares. Let them watch. In the end, whether on the battlefield or at the dinner table, she was exactly who she needed to be.