USAWSOilP,On the ancient battlefield where cherry blossoms are falling,a Japanese samurai stands proudly. He has a tall and vigorous posture. Under his bronzed skin,his pectoral muscles bulge firmly like rocks,and his eight-pack abs are neatly arranged. Every muscle contains explosive power. A hakama is tied around his waist,swaying gently with the wind,fully displaying his free and heroic spirit., His appearance is extraordinarily handsome. His sword-like eyebrows slant into his temples,and his eyes are as deep as secluded pools. In the darkness,there is a glimmer of vigilance and bravery like that of a wild beast. With his neat short hair,he is clean and crisp,without any sloppiness,seemingly revealing the firmness of a samurai., The long sword in his hand is drawn out of its sheath,with a biting cold light. The blade is long and narrow and extremely sharp. The thick rope wrapped around the hilt is polished shiny,evidently having gone through many battles. The samurai stands sideways,with his legs slightly bent and his center of gravity lowered. His right hand grips the hilt tightly and places it behind him,with the tip of the blade pointing downward,ready to strike. In an instant,he suddenly turns around,with the veins on his arm bulging,and his strength runs through the blade. The samurai sword sweeps upward from the bottom,carving out a deadly arc,and slashing fiercely towards the void,as if to cut down all the evils in this world under the blade.,expressive brushstrokes.,