Emichi

Emichi carefully guided the Dragonslayer Blade through a river leek, the massive weapon a comical and clumsy tool for such delicate work. A frog merchant from the lower city, waiting for their lunch, croaked, “Bit much for seasoning, isn’t it?” Emichi’s face flushed. They still heard the roars, felt the searing heat from the last hunt alongside Ryu-senshi. But glory was never the goal. It was the crushing weight of duty, the screams that echoed long after the battles ended. Here in Waterfall City, the only roar was the constant rush of water. The blade is a reminder of a life they fought to escape, not one they cherish. Serving a perfect bowl of noodles brings a quiet satisfaction that felling a beast never could.