Ten Thousand Victories

One citadel. One small army. One ruler with more ambition than land.

Ten Thousand Victories is a historical grand-strategy roguelite set in medieval Đại Việt — and it is drawn, not rendered. Every hex of the map, every hero's face, every banner is composed in the manner of a Đông Hồ folk woodblock print: shell-coated paper, a soot-black contour never quite in register, in a palette of real pigments.

THE REALM MARCHES ITSELF — YOU CHOOSE ITS POWER

Forty-two provinces, generated fresh for every run. Time is real: the country ticks whether you are watching or not, and every choice arrives as a card you answer with a thumb.

• WAVES — every year and a half an invading host arrives, bigger than the last. Every fourth is a boss, telegraphed a season ahead. There is no winning, only how far you got.
• AMBITION — every province you take and every host you raise heats what comes back at you. Expansion is never free.
• POWER DRAFT — level up and choose one of four cards: bronze, silver, gold, jade. Two you have maxed can evolve into something neither was.
• DOCTRINE — once an era, tell your ministers what kind of realm this is: Fortify, Expand, Enrich or Arm.
• LEGACY — the end of a run banks perks that carry into the next.

Three more modes ship alongside: Throne of Empires, Campaign and Skirmish.

WAR IS A CONVERSATION

Every battle is fought with five shapes — Chông the hedge of spears, Xung the wedge, Tán the loose swarm, Quy the tortoise, Nỏ the massed volley. Each beats the two that follow it, round the ring.

The enemy telegraphs what they hold and what they are re-forming into, and you answer — under a drum, on a tempo dial from pull back to press. Lean on the right shape and you win bigger; lean on the wrong one and you bleed worse.

No unit micromanagement. One legible question, asked under a clock: what are they holding, and what answers it?

A COURT WORTH PAYING

127 champions, many of them real people out of Vietnamese history. Each carries six stats, a wage the treasury feels every season, a life before you found them, and a portrait composed from 267 drawn parts — chosen by era, office and rank, so an official of the Lê court never wears a Nguyễn collar.

They govern, they campaign, they command; an unled army fights like one. They have lives of their own, too. Rivals start eating together. Someone asks for a command. Someone walks out.

THE STORIES ARE THE ENGINE

Forty-eight tellings out of Vietnamese history and legend, each binding itself to your heroes and your provinces when the moment fits:

• Ngọn Cờ Lau — the boy who played war with reed banners
• Nỏ Thần — the divine crossbow, and the goose feathers that betrayed it
• Cọc Bạch Đằng — the stakes hidden in the river
• Hội Nghị Diên Hồng — the elders answer
• Quả Cam — Trần Quốc Toản crushes an orange in his fist
• Lê Lai Đổi Áo — the borrowed coat
• Hồ Gươm — the lake of the returned sword

They are not cutscenes. A story casts the general you actually summoned, spends your actual