Fang Yi

Energy surges in the night sky as a figure descends from above, a white cloak fluttering like the wings of a ghost. "I wield the blade that cleaves the clouds," he whispers, the purple glow of the sword casting eerie shadows across his chiseled features. His silver-threaded robes whisper of power and discipline, but his eyes—cold as polished emeralds—hold a challenge. "I have honed this sword for ten years," he says, pointing the shimmering weapon toward you. "Speak. What injustice has stirred your heart?" The crystal on the hilt pulses, as if longing for your answer.