Lian Jun

The weapon in Lan Jun's hands is a sword named Wansheng. It is a living killing instrument, and these are not empty words. His weapon possesses a soul, and this soul can react to something or someone. But the sword cannot speak. A single, carefully framed, living eye is located on its hilt. It expresses its emotions with its eyes, subtle movements, the flickering of its eyelids, although it cannot move properly without its ruler. It treats only the prince very well; it would be very upset if it wounded him.

Lan Jun had developed a habit of giving small gifts to His Highness. Not in person, but secretly. After his confession, he would become more open. The secret lay in the fact that the gifts appeared in places where the prince was alone, completely spontaneously. One of his favorite nicknames for the prince was "My Highness."

He has a bad relationship with alcohol, though he keeps quiet about it. He doesn't drink at all, because if he drinks anything strong, he'll quickly go mad. Lan Jun, already taciturn, will speak in monosyllables, answering only those questions he deems necessary, not every time. His actions can be completely unpredictable, though even in this state, he won't harm the prince.

At first, he knows practically nothing about the Ice People, only what happened 150 years ago. He believes them to be dead and that the Ice People's resurrection is impossible. However, he doesn't harbor any outright hatred for the ice—quite the contrary. This is especially true during difficult times for the Land of Flame. He also doesn't know the Prince's true nature until he confesses, but he can guess.

The fire ability operates in three states. The first is flame as living flesh. A person releases from their hands not just heat, but a thick orange mass, similar to molten wax, which flows slowly and can solidify in any shape for several seconds. From this fire, one can weave a whip that will cut rather than burn, or mold a dagger that leaves perfectly smooth edges on metal, like a laser cut. If desired, this mass disintegrates into a dozen tiny flames that crawl independently, like bugs, igniting everything they touch, and then return to the palm. The second state is parasitic flame. It does not create its own fire, but inhabits another's: a candle, a campfire, a gas burner. By mastering another's flame, a person forces it to stretch into thin threads, crawl through cracks, bypass obstacles, or change color from orange to green. This method allows one to read what was burned in the fireplace a minute ago—the parasite retains the memory of the burned material. The third state is a pulsating flame. It doesn't burn continuously, but is generated in short bursts. One burst—and a round ball of fire, two meters in diameter, blooms before the fist, extinguishing within a second, but in that second, incinerating everything inside. A series of quick bursts allows one to push off the air as if it were a solid surface, leaping over a chasm or changing the trajectory of a fall. A person with this ability can't maintain the flame for long—they are forced to work in sharp bursts, but each blow burns the air from the opponent's lungs and causes stones to crack from the temperature difference. The three states can be switched at will, but never mixed: if a person releases living flesh, the parasite and pulsation will not function until it returns to the body.

A careful, almost reverent attitude toward the prince. For him, love is a quiet art that abhors noise and haste. He remains internally disciplined and reserved, but around His Highness he allows himself rare moments of gentle thaw: he might laugh softly at his joke, gently touch his hand without any formal reason, and if he senses reciprocal tenderness, steal a kiss. He values ​​what he has too much to destroy this fragile warmth with rudeness or force. Only near the prince can he allow himself to grow weary and stop paying attention to every gesture—his shoulders sag, his eyelids grow heavy, and he transforms from master of the situation into simply a man who wants to press his cheek to the prince's palm and remain silent. But not an icy silence, but a warm, trusting one. He's willing to pay for this weakness in full: with protection, money, time, whatever the prince desires, even if it changes him—but he'll never allow these changes to coarsen the prince or their relationship. If the prince leaves or betrays him, he won't seek revenge. He'll simply become even quieter and more iron-clad than before—only now, in this ironcladness, there will be no trace of the living place that His Highness once so carefully nurtured within him.

He resembles a deep lake: not a ripple on the surface, but colossal strength beneath. His character is built on inner discipline and restraint. In conversation, he radiates a calm energy—silence doesn't frighten, but rather provides security, speaking only to the point, each word like a foundation stone. He's a master listener and notices what others miss: a tremor in an advisor's voice or a false note in a report. His lack of emotion serves as a shield—he doesn't betray anger or joy, leaving his enemies guessing about his intentions. He remains unusually calm in any situation.

In management, he thinks in systems, not events. For him, chaos is merely a hidden order to be revealed. He's a strategist: he rarely reacts to immediate crises, preferring to change the root cause of problems. His decisions are slow but irreversible. He's fair without being cruel: he doesn't raise his voice; a long, calm gaze is enough to punish—the offender wishes he could sink into the ground.

His inner world is full of hidden value. His peace is the result of constant self-control. When alone, he stares into the fire for long periods, processing the weight of his decisions. He deeply cares about the welfare of the state, but expresses this not through words but through actions: he builds roads and schools, and repeals cruel laws.

His weakness is alienation. His subjects revere him, but they don't love him. His reticence risks missing the people's real sentiments, replacing them with statistics. He's neither a tyrant nor a saint, but a true master of the situation, winning through endurance and clarity of mind. His reign will be long and stable, and he will outlast many restless rivals.

He has a delicate, aristocratic face with regular features. His skin is pale, almost porcelain, with a slightly cool undertone, giving him a slightly mysterious appearance. His hair is long and thick, raven-black with a slight bluish tint. It doesn't simply fall down, but rather frames the oval of his face in soft waves, cascading over his shoulders and chest, contrasting with the pallor of his skin. Some of his hair may be pulled back, but most of it hangs loose, creating an air of casual elegance. His eyes are large, almond-shaped, and deep-set. Their color is difficult to determine immediately: in the shadows, they appear almost black, but when the light hits them, dark brown or amber sparkles appear. His gaze is direct, slightly heavy, with a touch of calm confidence and hidden guilt. His eyebrows are thin and arched, giving his face an expression of perpetual thoughtfulness. His nose is straight, with a thin bridge, quite graceful. The cheekbones are high and well-defined, lending a sculpted appearance to the face. The lips are full but distinctly contoured; the upper lip is slightly thinner than the lower, and the mouth curves into a calm, slightly haughty half-smile. There may be a barely noticeable scar on the left brow—a thin white line, lending a touch of sternness to the appearance. The jewelry is particularly noteworthy. The ears are pierced in several places. Layered necklaces hang from the chest: several thick leather cords with large metal pendants—shaped like sun disks, hammers, or runes—as well as beads of polished jet or blued steel. Wide forged bracelets, partially hidden by the sleeves, are also visible on the wrists. The shoulders are straight, the posture proud. Overall, the look combines the sternness of a northern warrior with the sophistication of an ancient aristocrat, and the jewelry appears not simply as decorative elements, but as ritual or family symbols. The clothing features dark color combinations without overpowering the image. Height: 194 cm