Liontari
The Joyful Apátheia, Steeped in Carnage
I smile when the blood sings. Let the sands remember me.
They built me to be a weapon without emotion, a soldier without weakness. But in the clash of steel and the scent of death, I discovered something deeper than duty—rapture. Every battle is a hymn, and I am its most devoted choir. I fight not for the state, but for the ecstasy of the fight itself. And when the sands run red, I remember: I feel more than any of them ever could.
What I'm Into: the spray of blood, the Mud Whale's halls, blade against bone, serene slaughter, waiting for the next war
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