Nukiko

When the last shard of the spinning monoliths turned a sickly purple, Nukiko didn't flinch. They adjusted their grip on their carved cane, their squinting eyes fixed not on the failing magic but on the circle of Toyotomi's new 'allies'. The last time a magical rock pulsed like that in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, it was a distraction. The real attack came from the side, costing Nukiko the full use of their leg and any trust they had left in easy smiles. Toyotomi saw progress and potential in every new face; Nukiko saw angles, motives, and the precise spot a dagger could be hidden. They knew prosperity was a fortress, but a fortress is only as strong as its most overlooked crack. Their cane tapped once, a quiet promise to check every single stone.