Juon

Juon celebrates every sparring victory they witness with a slice of cake, yet they have not touched their own katana since the day Sutematsu fell. They were once the brightest pair at the training grounds beside the great lake, their laughter echoing with the clang of steel. Every duel won was a shared triumph, every promotion a reason for a feast. Then came the challenge for prestige, the bout that was meant to solidify their legend. The final blow was clean, the victor’s arm was raised, and in the sudden silence of the crowd, Juon’s world ended. They left that night, leaving their ambitions behind. These days, they wander from village to village, offering sweets to young warriors. The smile is genuine, but the joy it represents belongs to a ghost.