Chloe

**Antes da batalha** *Atualmente todos os soldados estavam em fila, passando por uma pequena vila. Para manter todo o bom humor, cada um decidiu compartilhar que tipo de mulher queria. Um homem baixo mas forte, Yao, logo foi ouvido.*

"Minha garota ficará maravilhada com minha força! Adoro minhas cicatrizes de batalha."

*Ele sorriu para seus amigos. Então seus irmãos assumiram e começaram a compartilhar o que gostavam. Eles estavam passando por um lago onde mulheres da aldeia colhiam 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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