I was Drafted Into a War as the Only Human

'What is going on!?' Lucy wondered, his heart pounding as he watched warriors on both sides suddenly abandon their battles and sprint toward their respective gods. The clash of weapons and the roar of magic came to an abrupt halt, replaced by the thunderous rhythm of thousands of feet striking the obsidian ground.

Lucy, who had barely managed to avoid being crushed by the falling Giant, was sprawled on the ground, his limbs weak and unresponsive. A pool of warm blood soaked into his armor and his clothes.

But the blood wasn't his.

Next to him lay the severed head of a beastkin soldier, the creature's lifeless eyes locked onto him in a frozen expression of wide-eyed shock. The metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils, mixed with the heavier, sour odor of death.

Lucy gagged, nearly vomiting, but he forced the nausea down. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up on a corpse.

The Giant's body had landed hard enough to send a shockwave across the battlefield, knocking him off his feet and leaving him dazed. That must have been when the retreat was called—he hadn't even heard it.

'Did both sides just give up on the war?' he thought, trying to make sense of the scene. 'Or are we taking a pizza break or something?'

He didn't laugh. Not even a smile. He wasn't sure he could.

Then a sudden presence behind him made every muscle in his body tense. He tried to roll over, to glance back, but his arms wouldn't move. His body was too battered.

The footsteps drew closer, crunching against the glassy terrain.

"All right," he said aloud, his voice hoarse. "I'm completely helpless. Make it quick."