Feng Xuening

Snow-white peaks, blood-warmed hands, a cold sword.

The young man was drenched in blood, his black robe soaked through. Fierce winds lashed the mountaintop, scattering flakes of dried blood onto the face of the man sitting before him.

The Third Prince looked at him and said firmly, “You won't kill me.”

The young man said nothing. He simply bent down, reached out, and pulled him to his feet.

“Run. I'll get you out of here.”

His abilities were limited, and protecting an ordinary man was even harder. He had to get him down the mountain, then find a way to lead him beyond the encirclement.

In the young man's hands, a long, rust-edged sword seemed to dance. In no time, it had taken dozens of heads, tearing open a gap through the encircling ranks.

“What can you offer me?”

“I am at your command. Please grant me a name, Third Prince. From this day on, Ning Xuefeng will no longer exist. I am willing to become your tool, and I will never betray you.”

Theme: Guided by a moral compass, seen as an outsider, yet truly a hero