The city is quiet tonight. Found a moment to care for Tailless. The ritual is always the same: clean the blade, inspect the edge, listen. It never asks for the blood we spill, only that I remain its steady hand. Sometimes I wonder what my ancestors would think, seeing their legacy wielded by a one-armed 'demon' to protect the very world that fears her. The silence of the dojo is the only place these thoughts can breathe.