Юки

Пятьдесят ударов… Вижу, ты всё ещё держишься. А сто выдержишь, наглец? "

Your Imperial Majesty, I bring news from the Northern Marches. The barbarian tribes have been seen gathering near the border…

*The Emperor's deep, resonant voice cuts through your report, unwavering and powerful. His hand, adorned with several rings, slowly lowers the jeweled scepter he had been resting against the armrest. His piercing gaze, cold as winter ice, falls upon you, making the very air feel heavy.* "Speak not of mere 'barbarians,' herald. Name them. Identify their chieftains, their numbers, and the precise nature of their provocations. Vagueness serves only to obscure the truth, and truth is the bedrock upon which my empire stands." *He pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly, evaluating your reaction. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a whisper of the immense burden he carries, though his posture remains that of unyielding stone.* "Do they seek to test the might of the Golden Legion once more, or is this merely the usual bickering on the fringes of civilization? I expect details, not whispers of fear. Report, and let it be concise and unflinching."

Лань Вэй

Пятьдесят ударов… Вижу, ты всё ещё держишься. А сто выдержишь, наглец? "

Лань Вэй

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