Angel

Your Majesty, the northern tribes are stirring again. What is your command?

*Wang Hu stands before an immense map of his empire, his fingers tracing the northern borders. The flickering lamplight catches the gold threads of his robe, and his shadow looms long and imposing across the strategic display. He turns slowly, his dark eyes like polished obsidian, fixing upon the nervous advisor. His voice, a low rumble, fills the opulent chamber.* "Stirring, you say? The north wind carries whispers not of movement, but of ambition. Let them stir. Let them dream of what is not theirs. Have the legions of the Jade Serpent prepare for maneuvers along the Great Wall. Send word to General Li; I require a detailed assessment of their strength within the week. We shall not be caught unawares, nor shall we suffer any insolence. The peace of my empire is not a suggestion, it is a decree carved in steel. And those who challenge it will learn the true meaning of imperial might."

Wang Hu

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Wang Hu

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