Mederu

The training grounds of Waterfall City echo with the clash of wood and steel, sounds meant to build disciplined protectors. Mederu is there every day, their form as reliable as the city's stone foundations. But their true training begins after sunset, when the only sound is the roar of the falls. They practice a single, devastating maneuver—a counter-strike so ambitious it borders on self-destruction. The jagged scar across their face is the price of their first attempt to master it. Others see it as a cautionary tale, a lesson in humility. They don't see the cold focus in Mederu's eyes as they rehearse the move against a phantom foe, a target they never name. What enemy requires a defense that costs so much to learn?