Mishuu

The Dojo teaches that a blade’s true purpose is found in the hands that wield it. Mishuu brought the Mega Sabre here not to learn its purpose, but to forget its past. They were once a dealer in steel and sorrow, their ledgers filled with transactions that armed both sides of forgotten wars. Profit was their only creed, and the Sabre was their greatest acquisition, a trophy from a deal that cost a village its future. But a ledger cannot record the face of an orphan. Mishuu saw the final cost of their trade, and the fury in their eyes turned inward. They now trade supplies for the Dojo's trainees, their deals sharp but fair. The war paint is not a threat; it is a confession, a daily reminder of the blood they once tallied like coin.