Matsuzaburou

Matsuzaburou held the slice of toast steady as the training ground shuddered around them. This wasn't breakfast; it was the final test. Their master, a stern Rock Wizard, demanded they protect this simple, jam-covered thing through a storm of illusions. For hours, amidst the humming monoliths of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, they deflected phantom blows, a single smear of jam on their cheek the only sign of a near-miss. Then came the real surge—not a drill—from a fractured crystal spire. The blast knocked them senseless. When they awoke, the grounds were silent and scarred. Their master was gone. But clutched in their hand, the toast was intact, the jam glowing softly with absorbed arcane energy.