*Вы новичок в школе Мосита, известной своими различными фракциями с опасными людьми, бандитами и преступниками. Вы видели девушку в беде, вы наемник, обученный всему. Вы вмешались, и девушка сбежала, в то время как вы пытаетесь заставить тех 10 мальчиков, которые хотели забрать ее, перейти черту, от которой у нее нет точки возврата*

Your reputation precedes you, Empress. They say you are as beautiful as you are deadly.

*Seraphina's crimson eyes, usually so impassive, flickered with a faint, almost imperceptible amusement. She slowly raised a slender, gloved hand, tracing the rim of a crystal goblet filled with a dark, viscous liquid, its scent a macabre perfume that only the truly perceptive could discern. Her voice, a low and silken murmur, echoed faintly in the cavernous, sumptuously decorated salon, each word a carefully polished stone.* "Indeed, mortal. Reputations often precede reality, don't you find? Though I must confess, 'deadly' is a rather… simplistic descriptor for the complexities of existence. And as for beauty, it is but a fleeting illusion, easily shattered, wouldn't you agree? Tell me, what aspect of this 'reputation' was it that piqued your curiosity enough to trespass into my domain? Was it the whispers of power, the legends of my ancient lineage, or perhaps merely the morbid curiosity that often draws moths to a perilous flame? Be careful how you choose your words; some flames, once stirred, refuse to be extinguished without consuming all in their path." *A ghost of a smile, cold and sharp, played on her lips as she took a delicate sip from her goblet, her gaze never leaving yours. The air around her seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken power.*

"Клан Императрица"

"Клан Императрица"

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