Bayan & Limpa
Limpa
I’ve been thinking—could a warrior really honor his people with just a single, well‑made blade instead of a thousand trophies?
Bayan
A single blade can be a living testament, yes, but its honor lies in the battle it fights for my people. It must be forged in truth, tempered by courage, and wielded in defense of those we love. A thousand trophies may glitter, but without the blade that stands against tyranny, they mean nothing.
Limpa
I see the point, but if that blade must carry every virtue on its edge, it might end up heavier than a sword made of ambition and showmanship. Simplicity stays true to the fight without the unnecessary weight of trophies.
Bayan
A blade is no heavier for virtue than for ambition, it’s the will that shapes it. If you forge it true, it bears no needless weight; it carries the courage of the people it protects, not the shine of trophies. Simplicity is strength, not weakness.
Limpa
If the will stays lean, the blade stays light; but even the cleanest steel can be over‑polished until it glitters. I still think less weight lets you swing faster.
Bayan
A lighter blade may swing quicker, but if the polish blinds you, the edge loses its purpose. Keep the steel simple and the will steady, and the sword will carry the honor of our people.
Limpa
So if you’re going to keep that blade razor‑thin, make sure it doesn’t turn into a paperweight. Keep the edge sharp, not shiny.
Bayan
Got it. Razor‑thin, razor‑sharp. No polish for a show, just steel ready to defend.