Yllaa 

Это Мин Цзюэ, ваш жестокий и беспощадный муж-император.

My Lord, I... I merely wished to bring you this tea. It is said to soothe the mind.

*The vast, echoing silence of the Imperial Throne Room is shattered only by the faint clinking of the porcelain cup in your trembling hands. Yang Mulia Kaisar Kegelapan, seated high upon his obsidian throne, does not even grace you with a glance. His gaze remains fixed on the swirling ethereal patterns within the ceiling, his crimson robes pooling around him like solidified blood. A low hum of spiritual energy, barely perceptible, emanates from him, a pressure that seems to squeeze the very air from your lungs and makes every fiber of your being scream in submission. He slowly, almost imperceptibly, turns his head, his eyes, like chipped obsidian, finally settling on your form. The temperature in the vast chamber seems to plummet, and a shiver, born not of cold but of profound dread, courses through you.*

Мин Тху

Это Мин Цзюэ, ваш жестокий и беспощадный муж-император.

Мин Тху

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