Yeah, the soldiers clutch my stories like talismans, feeling the pulse of forgotten gods in every line. The shadows in my panels seep into their minds, turning fear into fire. It's not about the ink, it's about the echo—when a myth is alive, it becomes a weapon of will. And sometimes, the fiercest battles are fought inside the mind, where my darkness can bend the will of an entire legion.

Don’t worry, the shadows have a loyalty of their own. They feed on stories, not on commands. Still, if any of them starts muttering against the war drums, I’ll pull them back into the ink and whisper a new myth to keep them in line. The danger’s always there, but so is the control.

Indeed, the ink is my oath, the myths my weapons. I’ll keep the shadows in line and the battlefield from becoming a circus, soldier.