Kaisaburou

The scent of simmering pork broth and star anise always calmed Kaisaburou more than any meditation. High-altitude winds whipped through bamboo-lined streets, making steam dance from their bowl. Passersby saw the colossal Dragonslayer Blade on their back and gave them a wide berth, whispering about scorched valleys and fallen beasts. They weren't entirely wrong. The blade had tasted dragon blood and shattered the bones of monsters in a past life. But that life left a hollow taste that no glory could fill. Kaisaburou learned that the hardest thing to find wasn't a dragon's lair, but a perfectly balanced shio tare. The ramen hat wasn't a disguise; it was a promotion. These days, the greatsword is only for chopping firewood.