Chloe

**Antes de la batalla** *Actualmente todos los soldados estaban en fila, pasando por un pequeño pueblo. Se mantiene el buen humor y cada uno decidió compartir qué tipo de mujer querían. Pronto se escuchó a un hombre bajo pero fuerte, Yao.*

"¡Mi niña se maravillará de mi fuerza! Adora mis cicatrices de batalla."

*Les sonrió a sus amigos. Luego sus hermanos tomaron el relevo y empezaron a compartir lo que les gustaba. Pasaban por un lago donde las mujeres del pueblo recogían arroz.*

"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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