The Valhalla War was closing. Although it came with a heavy cost that had yet to become apparent, the Magitech Cannon had been fired and Man was victorious. Still, small skirmishes persisted across the snowy battlefield as tiny bands of demons and goblins made a last-ditch rush toward the Castle Midgard amidst the confusion.

Mint was serving as a reserve medic immediately outside the city walls, exercising the divine healing magick she had been trained in since childhood to nurse wounded Midgard soldiers. Her current brigade consisted of Cless, a swordsman, Klarth, a summoner-mage, and a small band of royal guardsmen that had been lent by the king himself. The fourth member of the core party, sorceress Arche, was still near the frontline offering aerial support. A complicated tale of treachery and loss had brought the four heroes together to this point, but Mint hadn't the time to reminisce on this as she sprinted amongst the nearby wounded to offer them healing and comfort. Her dedication to helping those in need left her anxiously dashing between here and there, and her elegant white robes coupled with the frosted backdrop of Valhalla left many men recalling her only as a gentle smile with long golden hair.

It was during one of her extended stops that tragedy struck. Four soldiers of various injuries limped out from the edge of Valhalla's Evergreen forest, apparently ambushed by goblins that had been traveling through the trees. As Cless quickly moved to defeat the frantic goblins that were now escaping the forest and making towards the walls of Midgard, Mint met his pace to reach the ambushed soldiers. A more powerful spell was in order to ensure the entire group's well-being, and the cleric's devotion sealed her fate.

Mint stood tall and raised her arms to cast the spell necessary to nurse the fallen company. However, unbeknownst to her or any ally present, a goblin archer still remained in the trees and took notice of his opening. Mint was deeply focused on her incantation when her attacker struck. The pristine arrow left the sniper's bow in deadly silence, taking only a brief second to plunge into poor victim's unarmored left breast. The goblin's aim could not have been more precise. Mint's heart was instantly impaled and ravaged beyond the ability of any restoration magick, making the mage's death quick and assured.

Her arms abruptly fell to her sides after the shot. The grip on her priestess staff was lost as her entire body quickly tensed with shock and her cerulean eyes grew wide. Her stiff throat only allowed a weak, smothered grunt to escape her simple pink lips before she stumbled under the weight of the arrow and toppled sideways to the ground. Her unblemished white robes did nothing to hide the sight of her warm red lifeblood spilling ceaselessly from the wound, turning the violet holy symbol on her attire to a near-black shade and sullying the silver snow-covered turf of Valhalla. Her mitre lazily rolled off her head and across the snow as her hair splayed into golden streams.

Cless did not hear the deathly arrow fly behind him as he swiftly cut down the last members of the goblins ambush, but he turned his head in concern when he heard the metallic clang of his mage companion's iron staff bounce off the stone pathway of Midgard's city entrance. He dropped his own blade turning completely with a gasp, and dashed toward the side of the walk to kneel in the snow and cradle Mint's motionless form. He looked upon her wide eyes, grimacing at the full sight of her condition, and his own silver armor was soon stained with red from clutching her. Klarth joined the scene with an expression of shock before quietly lowering his head. After a fruitless attempt to shake her back to awareness, Cless removed his dirtied leather gloves and gently guided the fallen heroine's paralyzed eyelids shut.

Mint's killer quickly met a fate similar to his victim, but beastly witnesses in the air had seen enough take the news back to their master. The arrow shot had given away the sniper's location to nearby human soldiers, and ally archers fired into the trees until the goblin's arrow-riddled corpse dropped to the ground.

As the last immeasurable traces of life rapidly faded from the doomed maiden, her protector and unrealized lover began to openly weep in regret.

"Meryl… I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise…"

Safely aloft in his castle opposite of Midgard, the Demon King received news from his minions that the assassination was a success and he was now the only mage who could take control of Yggdrasill.