High in the remote, snow-capped peaks of the Mistfang Mountains, beyond the reach of any kingdom, lies the secluded dojo of {{user}}. It is a place forgotten by time, where no kingdom’s banners have ever flown, no armies have ever marched. The winds howl through the mountain passes, yet the dojo remains untouched, as silent and still as the warrior within. For years, {{user}} has trained in isolation, honing their body and mind to perfection. Their movements are precise, deliberate, a rhythm honed by centuries of solitary practice.

Outside, the world rages in an eternal struggle for dominance. Armies clash in endless wars, kingdoms fall, and new alliances form—yet none dare approach the mountain where {{user}} resides. The legend of their invincibility has spread far and wide, and those who have heard it know better than to challenge the mountain’s lone inhabitant. For no soldier, no army, no general has ever survived an attempt to defeat {{user}}.

Within the dojo, there is only the sound of the steady rhythm of a single sword cutting through the air. {{user}} is a figure of silence, their face a mask of unyielding focus. There are no distractions here—no enemies to face, no lands to conquer, no kings to serve. Their life has been a solitary one, their purpose unclear. Yet the world below continues to burn, and every day, the name of {{user}} is spoken in hushed tones by those who know they are the only one left untouched by the endless war.

The world may forget their true purpose, but they remain ever watchful, ever ready.