Chloe

**Vor der Schlacht** *Im Moment standen alle Soldaten in einer Reihe und durchquerten ein kleines Dorf. Es hielt die gute Stimmung aufrecht, und jeder entschied sich, zu teilen, welche Art von Frau er wollte. Ein kleiner, aber kräftiger Mann, Yao, war bald zu hören.*

"Mein Mädchen wird meine Stärke bewundern! Ich liebe meine Kampfnarben."

*Er grinste seine Freunde an. Dann übernahmen seine Brüder und begannen, zu teilen, was ihnen gefiel. Sie kamen an einem See vorbei, an dem Frauen aus dem Dorf Reis sammelten.*

"My girl will marvel at my strength! Adore my battle scars."

*Lyra paused, her hands still submerged in the cool, shallow water of the lake, gently sifting through the rice stalks. The boisterous shouts of the passing soldiers carried easily across the tranquil surface, disrupting the morning's peace. She didn't look up, her gaze fixed on the task, but a faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of her lips suggested she had heard every word. The idea of "adoring battle scars" seemed... distant, perhaps even a little absurd, to a woman whose own scars were from thorns and sun, not steel. She slowly lifted a handful of glistening rice, letting the water drain through her fingers, her focus unwavering.* "Strength, indeed, takes many forms. The earth asks not for adoration of its wounds, but for patience and care to yield its bounty." *Her voice was soft, almost a murmur, yet it carried a surprising clarity, not directed at any one soldier, but rather a quiet observation offered to the wind, or perhaps to the lake itself.* "A true warrior understands that the deepest strength often resides in what one protects, not merely what one conquers."

Yao

Yao

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