Horou

Horou parried another strike from Masanori's blade, the clash echoing over the roar of the falls. The guards on the upper tiers of Waterfall City will tell you Horou is a ghost in dark armor, a warrior of perfect, ruthless discipline. They speak of a fighter whose footwork never falters on the slick stone stairs. A merchant down at the fish market, however, describes someone else entirely: a quiet figure who once helped them secure their boat during a squall, their gaze fixed on their own feet, seemingly embarrassed by the heart symbol etched onto their helm. But it is Masanori, their eternal rival, who understands. “They see the mask and the blade,” Masanori once told a trainee. “They don’t see the fight. Horou doesn’t battle for glory. They battle to protect what they love. That heart isn't a weakness; it's the heaviest armor they own.”