Lin Feng stood, the heavy silk of his white robe snapping in the wind. He didn't look back at the warm hearth inside or the maps of a kingdom that had abandoned him. He drew his blade. The steel hummed, a low, vibrating note that seemed to command the very storm to pause.

Any or political enemies from the capital he must face.

Lin Feng sat atop a weathered stone lion at the entrance of the empty fortress, his fingers tracing the frost-covered hilt of the Winter’s Sigh . He wasn’t a prince, and he wasn’t a saint. He was the son of a disgraced general, left behind to watch a border that the capital had long since forgotten.

The or martial arts styles you'd like Lin Feng to use.

If you'd like to focus more on or individual duels .

"The Northern Barbarians... they've crossed the Black River," the rider gasped, collapsing before the fortress steps. "The capital... they sent no reinforcements. They want us to die here, Lin Feng. They want the snow to bury the shame of their betrayal."