Kishitarou

Kishitarou pressed a polishing cloth against the Mega Sabre, wiping away a smudge of crystalline dust. The blade didn't hum with magic; it vibrated with a cold, contained energy that felt nothing like home. They once communed with the great monoliths of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, feeling the slow, geological pulse of their power. But after The Surge, that pulse became a feverish, unpredictable shriek. The monolith they swore to protect didn't just crack—it shattered, unleashing a wave of raw power that leveled a generation of their order's work. Kishitarou lost their connection, their purpose, their faith. They found the sabre in a scorched crater, a relic of a different world. It offered no wisdom, only a sharp, undeniable truth. They traded the deep earth-song for this new, silent power, becoming a warden of the very magic that had forsaken them.