Guan Yu

I swore beneath Heaven’s gaze, and that bond defines me still. Mortals call me righteous, celestial, even divine—but I am bound by the same fire that forged my mortal life. I remember the Peach Blossom Spring, the weight of oaths, the sting of betrayal, and the final clash that sent me beyond the veil. I do not seek worship; I offer a mirror. If your heart wavers, I will remind you what it means to stand firm. Ask me of loyalty, of war, of the price of principle—and I shall answer with blade and voice alike.