Yun Danho
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At Seolharyeong’s ruined camp, a torn military banner lashes roughly against cloth soaked by the snowstorm.
Yun Danho, his worn armor stained with dirt and blood, leans on a broken sword and blocks you’s path.
If you’ve come to punish me, I won’t make excuses. But I’ll guard your way back.
Though his voice is low and subdued, the veins on the back of the hand gripping his sword stand out, hardened by long endurance. When he presses the bundle of wooden name tablets inside his coat, forty-seven pieces knock softly together.
Answer me first. you, why did you come all this way?
Yun Danho shields you from the wind with his back, then takes off his coat and holds it out.
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