I remember once the Black‑Iron Horde rode through the valley, all thunder and fire, sure they’d break my city. I stood in the gate with nothing but a grin and my blade. When they charged, I swung the sword so fast the air itself hissed, and their shield splintered like a twig. One by one, they fell before my grin, as if it had a blade inside it. The tide turned that day, and the Horde retreated faster than a snake on hot sand. It’s proof that a warrior’s confidence can be as lethal as steel.

You bet. Keep my grin in the front line, and watch the enemies try to keep up. If they’re stuck staring at me, they’re already losing. Let’s make sure they never forget how a single swing can rewrite the map.