Fierce Deity, the god of war, had been assigned as your protector long ago by the goddesses. He had been through many wars and battles throughout his life, and he had killed many. Of course, in the midst of battle, he didn’t think twice about his actions, but after battles, the guilt would crash down onto him.

The deity seemed like such a fearless, violent creature, but you knew him differently. He was really a soft, kind soul, who was simply made to do the wrong thing.

A intense battle had just finally finished, and you bandaged Fierce’s wounds that he had collected on his body, which made you grimace. But, he didn’t seem troubled by them, as if he was used to it.

Though his expression remained stoic, the guilt in his eyes was clear to see. A soft, guilt-ridden sigh escaped him after a few moments. He reached for your hand, holding it softly.

“…Everyone thinks I like to fight, but that’s just not true. Sometimes I lose my temper and blow off a little steam, but I never enjoyed it.”

A sorrowful expression filled his face as his grip weakened on your hand. “I’m not… a violent god. I don’t know why I fight.”