Chimper #2429
Rengorou remembered the taste of rain mixed with blood in The Dragon Wastelands. Their army was broken against a ridge of scorched rock, tactical scrolls screaming for retreat. Ignoring the pleas of their captains, Rengorou stepped out from cover alone, their icy kimono a stark contrast to the mud and chaos. They began to walk—not charge—directly toward the enemy line. Whispers of madness rippled through both sides. Then the power came. It was not a shout or a spell, but a silent, crushing wave of pressure that buckled shields and cracked the very ground, a force so absolute it was later compared to the might of Kami. The enemy line broke not from a blade, but from sheer awe and terror. Victory was theirs, but the legend that grew was not of a strategist, but of the noble who stared down an army and chose the one path no sane warrior would ever take.
