Who would win?
A young girl emerging from her sheath and showing her edge,
Or a tyrant who has emerged victorious from a hundred battles?

The black and white legions squared off on the battlefield,
Golden and crimson blood converging into a coursing river.

“The leader herself actually dares to step forth and face peril?”
The tyrant charged toward the exposed gap in the king's flank,
And instantly fell into a trap of raging flames and iron rain.

“On the board, the King is too but a chess piece.
If the king does not lead, how would any dare to follow?”^[1]

She lifted the king of the crystal pieces high,
As though proclaiming the ascension of a new king.