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Type: Warrior • Region: Iron Pines

On the breezy coast of The Iron Pines, where waves crash in rhythm with the game, a young warrior practiced alone. The wind became his court partner — invisible, relentless, impossible to fake out. Day after day he learned to move with it, to rise when it rose, until his body found a new language in the air. His hops became a legend: a full turn above the rim, a clean windmill that made the crowd gasp, not from power, but from ease. It was the kind of dunk that looked effortless, like the wind itself had planned it. They called him The Windmill — not for force, but for flow. To this day, players chasing that same feeling wait for a gust at their back, hoping to catch just enough lift to hang in the air and throw it down.

Type: Warrior • Region: Iron Pines

West of the mountains lies a half-buried court called The Graveyard — a quiet place where ankles, pride, and spirits all meet the same fate. Overlooking it stands a lone samurai-guard, famed for crossovers so sharp they cut through ego like steel. He moves without mercy; his game is silent and quick. Opponents collapse before they understand what happened, their balance stolen mid-move. The yūrei drift through the mist to claim what’s left — the echoes of movement, the souls of defenders. Two spirits often return here: The Ghost, born of the coast, and The Spirit Snatcher, master of the clutch. They hover at the court’s edge, watching, remembering, feeding on the memory of every broken move. The Graveyard is their shrine now — a sacred reminder that style fades, but precision endures.

Type: Warrior • Region: Iron Pines

Through blizzards and silence, The Winter Shogun rules the north with patience. Raised by wolves, he learned that strength comes from the pack — from moving as one, and protecting what’s theirs. His court is discipline; his defense, a chilling presence. Warriors who come north speak of his defensive presence — steady, unshakable, never biting on a fake. Under his reign, the Iron Pines remain unconquered, their warriors bound by unity instead of fear. He teaches that true strength lies in the pack — in teamwork, discipline, and the trust to move as one. Now, a new howl rises beyond the trees. His son, The Young Wolf, trains beneath his watchful eye — eager, relentless, learning the rhythm of the pack. Soon the Shogun will pass the lead to him, but for now, father and son move together through the snow, side by side, keeping the north alive with every step.

Type: Warrior • Region: Iron Pines

Born under the frozen moon of The Iron Pines, The Young Wolf grew up chasing echoes of his father’s footsteps through the snow. Where The Winter Shogun ruled with patience and restraint, the son played with hunger and speed. His game is faster, looser, more daring — a spark flickering against the endless white. He leads his young pack with trust rather than command. Every pass is a signal, every howl a call to move as one. He studies defense like his father taught, yet dreams of offense — of pushing the pack beyond the forest, south toward the warmer lands. Now he spends each day shaping a new style for the north — refining his offensive craft, blending defense with offense, and evolving the region’s game one drive at a time. The Young Wolf plays not to replace his father, but to expand his legacy, carrying the howl of the north into new air.

Type: Warrior • Region: Iron Pines

In the shadow of the eastern cliffs, a boy once found a wounded black bear. Instead of fear, he offered friendship — and in time, they became one another’s teachers. The bear showed him patience, power, and how to move without wasting energy. The boy taught the bear rhythm, the bounce of the rock, and the power of the shot. They wandered from court to court, challengers and guardians alike. The bear’s strength cleared space beneath the rim; the boy’s timing finished the play. Together they became legends — two souls bound by instinct, respect, and the spirit of the game. Now the warrior known as The Black Bear rules The Temple of Hoops court, where hoopers come to test their resolve.

Type: Warrior • Region: Iron Pines (Exiled)

Once a samurai of the Capital, The Ice Ronin now walks the quiet forests of The Iron Pines — a masterless warrior who found peace in exile. His brother, The Daimyo, rose to rule in his absence; he chose the cold instead of the crown. Few have heard him speak. He lets the game talk for him — measured, efficient, unshakably calm. Opponents say his passes feel like blades through fog: clean, decisive, impossible to read. He plays like winter itself — quiet, patient, and absolute. Those who’ve watched him long enough say the frost around him sometimes softens — a glimpse of warmth beneath the silence. It’s not fire, not passion, just a quiet light that slips through when the game finds his heart. In that brief moment, the cold fades, and you see his soul beneath the ice.

Type: Warrior • Region: Golden Court

The Reign Ronin drifts between the mountains and the Capital, chasing storms and hang time alike. Once a disciplined samurai, he abandoned titles and temples to master the art of flight — finding purpose not in power, but in the breath held between take-off and fall. When clouds gather and lightning cracks across the valley, he leaps. The sky seems to pause for him, holding him aloft just long enough to make the world forget gravity. His dunks are a conversation between air and thunder — violent, beautiful, unrepeatable. He often returns to The Journey at Dusk court, where cliffs test courage and wind tests balance. There, his rivalry with The Windmill of the North continues — two warriors forever measuring who can stay suspended longest above the world.

Type: Warrior • Region: Golden Court

Few ever see The Shinobi clearly — a shadow within the Capital’s lights, a whisper in motion. Once an assassin in the Emperor’s service, he traded blades for the ball, perfecting deception as both art and weapon. Each summer, he retreats to Bamboo Season, where he trains alone from dawn to dusk. Hidden among the swaying stalks, he repeats his drills until the rim and him are one. The wind masks his movement, the cicadas cover his steps, and by the end of summer, he’s faster than the eye can follow. Some say the Emperor summons him for secret duels lit only by lanterns; others claim he’s no longer mortal at all, just a spirit reborn through rhythm. Whatever the truth, the Shinobi leaves no footprints — only a folded shuriken at center court.

Type: Warrior • Region: Golden Court

He stands between the Capital and the wild — a towering sentinel known as Block Mountain, the Emperor’s most trusted guardian. At 2,834 blocks tall, he casts a shadow long enough to cover the entire city, his arms like gates that close without warning. Opponents speak of the echo his defense makes — a sound like thunder striking through wood and pride alike. Every challenge meets the same fate: rejection, followed by silence. His presence alone changes a game, forcing even the boldest to hesitate at the rim. The Eternal Shogun calls him the shield of Edo, the living wall that no dynasty can breach. Yet Block Mountain never boasts; he only raises his arms, again and again, protecting the Capital as if every shot attempt was for the game.

Type: Warrior • Region: Golden Court

The Daimyo governs the lands surrounding the Capital, his leadership measured not in trophies but in order. Once a samurai alongside his brother — The Ice Ronin — he chose duty where the other chose exile. Now he rules the courts, ensuring every battle, every ceremony, and every prize reflects the Emperor’s design. On the court, his play mirrors his politics — precise, strategic, and perfectly timed. He doesn’t force the game; he directs it. Every assist is by design, every possession a plan executed. Though he and his brother share no words, their connection lingers in flow and form — one shaped by ice, the other by command. To watch the Daimyo on the court is to see the balance between authority and grace — a ruler whose greatest power is restraint.

Type: Warrior • Region: Golden Court

The Eternal Shogun has ruled The Golden Court for decades, his legacy etched into every beam and floorboard of Edo Ball. A prodigy of relentless discipline, he forged the Capital’s order from chaos — turning raw talent into empire. He doesn’t speak loudly; his commands come through his playmaking — a perfect pass, a seamless rotation, a steady gaze that silences doubt. To play beside him is to feel history writing your name. He rose with the Emperor, childhood allies who forged the foundation of Edo Ball’s capital. Now, he leads The Daimyo, The Shinobi, and The Last Samurai — the three pillars that uphold the region’s power. It was the Shogun who outcasted The Ice Ronin from the Capital and raised his brother, the Daimyo, to rule beside him. Calm, deliberate, and absolute, he keeps the balance of the Golden Court — not by fear, but by order.

Type: Warrior • Region: Golden Court

At the heart of The Golden Court stands The Court Emperor — ruler, player, and philosopher of the game. His reign is not measured by chips or coins, but by the spirit of the rock echoing through the Capital. Every tournament, every All-Star battle bears his mark — uniting the game under one ruler of the region. He watches the court with absolute clarity. To him, borders only weaken the game. He rules with strict discipline, shaping basketball into a single, ordered realm — one ruler, one rhythm, one world. Beside him stand his trusted circle — The Eternal Shogun, The Daimyo, and The Shinobi — each a reflection of his discipline. Under his gaze, the capital thrives: a place where ball and order coexist, where the game becomes the empire’s pulse.

Type: Warrior • Region: Golden Court

When Edo Ball was still unguarded and wild, one warrior stood alone against the northern shogunate — a battle that would define the Golden Court forever. They call him The Last Samurai, the embodiment of Bushidō: honor before comfort, courage before life. He fought for his Shogun, not for fame, and his defense of the newborn region became legend. Each swing, each stride, was both prayer and promise — that this place would stand for something greater than victory. Now he serves beside The Eternal Shogun as the quiet blade of The Golden Court. His armor is old, his movements refined, and his loyalty unshaken. The young warriors study his calm before battle, learning that mastery isn’t speed or strength — it’s devotion. In his eyes, the fight never ended; it simply became the game.

Type: Warrior • Region: Golden Court

They call him The Court Trainer, but within Edo Ball’s walls he’s known as the vet that keeps the Golden Court alive. Once a swift spearman among the Shogun’s warriors, he traded battle for mentorship, turning his focus from victory to mastery. Each dawn, before the bells ring, he’s already on the bamboo floor, showing the next generation how to journey through the game. His drills are poetry — movement stitched with purpose, sweat balanced by patience. To him, every step, every pivot, every release is a lesson. He trains under the watchful eyes of The Court Emperor and The Eternal Shogun, discovering and cultivating new talent for the empire. Each year, he also runs and hosts the grand Edo Ball All-Star Game, gathering the finest warriors from across the land. When the games begin and the crowds erupt, he simply stands at the sideline — smiling quietly, knowing the craft lives on through those he’s shaped.

Type: Warrior • Region: Thousand Fans

Trained in both performance and precision, The Air Geisha moves through the court like a petal in the wind. Once an entertainer of the old Capital, she learned the art of poise and rhythm long before she touched a ball. Now, every spin, fake, and layup is part of a grander choreography — a dance of hoops and flair. Crowds gather wherever she plays, drawn by the grace of her footwork and the bounce in her step. She turns crossovers into calligraphy, hang time into haiku. Her opponents rarely know if they’re being outplayed or performed for. The Air Geisha shares a quiet bond with The Ghost of the North — a connection from another life before his spirit turned to mist. Together they remind the world that basketball, at its core, is a stage: a place where beauty, balance, and competition meet under a single spotlight.

Type: Warrior • Region: Thousand Fans

Deep in the hills near the old Capital lives The Rock Maker, a master craftsman whose hands once gripped the hilt of a sword. Long ago, he fought under the old Emperor, but when war ended, he traded battle for creation. Now, he devotes his life to shaping perfect Edo Balls — each one carved with care, polished with memory. His workshop holds the weight of stone — every mark a lesson in craftsmanship. Visitors say he speaks rarely, only to the game itself. Every ball he creates carries a story — of victory, loss, or love — each weighted perfectly, balanced like the game it represents. He was there when The Rock — the origin of Edo Ball — was found, and though he no longer fights, his spirit still guards the spirit of the game.

Type: Warrior • Region: Thousand Fans

Once a warrior in the service of the old Emperor, The Master Gardener now devotes her life to nurturing the courts that sustain the game. She plants bamboo grown in pots made from worn basketballs and fragments of stone from The Rock, giving each shoot strength, flexibility, and memory. Her gardens stretch across the western valleys — living courts where balance and patience guide play. Each grove she cultivates becomes a space where competition softens into art, where the line between plant and player blurs into harmony. The Emperor still commissions her work for the great courts of Edo Ball. To her, every stalk of bamboo is a reflection of the players who once battled before her — firm in purpose, graceful in movement, and alive with the will to grow. The Gardener no longer fights, but through her craft, the game continues to bloom.

Type: Warrior • Region: Thousand Fans

When the cherry trees bloom, so too does The Spring Samurai rise from the mist of the Waterfall court. Wearing a mask crafted from the artisans of The Thousand Fans, he embodies grace and ferocity — a warrior devoted to the beauty of the game. His movements are sharp but poetic, every layup balanced by restraint. The mask conceals more than his face; it holds the stories of countless battles, the lessons of defeat, and the burden of legacy. To watch him play is to see the court bloom — every dribble a sign of growth and renewal. He reigns as the king of The Waterfall Court, yet wanders often to Isolation Island in the southern Breaker Isles, seeking opponents who challenge his flow. There, among storms and salt air, his game transforms — fluid, fearless, and renewed with every spring.

Type: Warrior Collective • Region: Thousand Fans

The Ikebana All Stars are not a team, but a collective — crafters, artists, and players who treat the game as living art. They gather flowers, leaves, and vines from across the Thousand Fans to weave into nets for the Fan of the Game court, each one shaped with care and ceremony. Their play is harmony in motion: graceful passes, elegant form, and a rhythm that feels choreographed by nature itself. To them, basketball is not about domination but dialogue — a conversation between motion, spirit, and beauty. Led by the Air Geisha, they serve as ambassadors of the region’s artistry, welcoming travelers from every corner of Edo. When the sun sets and the petals drift across the court, they continue to play — not for victory, but for the fleeting perfection of the moment.

Type: Warrior • Region: Breaker Isles

Born in the shadow of the volcano, The Sumo was shaped by the land itself — steady, immense, and unshakable. His family farmed the rich black soil that fed the region, and from that same ground he drew his strength. On the court, he moves with the certainty of an earthquake — immovable under the rim, yet graceful in footwork. When he backs down an opponent, the ground seems to shift beneath them, the echo of his step like thunder rolling through the Isles. He has clashed countless times with The Black Bear of the north — two forces of nature meeting again and again, neither yielding, both growing stronger. To his people, The Sumo is more than a player; he’s a monument to endurance, a reminder that true strength grows from the ground you protect.

Type: Warrior • Region: Breaker Isles

Fueled by fury and fire from the volcano’s heart, The Blood Ronin plays with reckless brilliance. Once a loyal samurai, he abandoned the order of the Capital, wandering south until his rage found a home in the molten lands. There, he forged a new weapon — not a blade, but a pair of flaming nunchaku that move like the perfect spin in the paint. His style is wild, unorthodox, and impossible to read — a fusion of chaos and precision. He moves as if possessed, each attack on the rim frantic. The crowd watches in awe and fear, unsure whether he’s controlling the flame or if the flame controls him. His greatest rival is The Spring Samurai their duels a perfect contrast of chaos and control — one wielding nunchaku born of fury, the other a sword guided by poise. Each match is a battle between madness and mastery, where neither fully wins, and both leave changed.

Type: Warriors • Region: Breaker Isles

Born in a southern fishing village where the waves never rest, The Tide Twins learned jumpers before they learned speech. Each morning they threw stones into the sea until their arms moved like tides, smooth and effortless. When they found the rock, the transition was seamless — water became motion, motion became shot. Guided by The Flamed Reaper, they learned to channel the heat of the volcano into their release. When one caught fire, the other followed — two flames rising in perfect sync. They travel light, fearless, and always together — spreading the game through the Isles one splash at a time. Opponents say their shot can’t be broken, always balanced and measured. To face one is a challenge; to face both is to drown in their flow.

Type: Spirit • Region: Iron Pines

Among the storms of the northern coast, they speak of a yūrei — a spirit caught between the worlds of air and earth. Once a player known for his effortless hang time, he leapt so high and so long that he never quite came back down. Now he floats eternally above the court, a shadow of grace and memory known only as The Ghost. He belongs to the ukiyo — the floating world — where time slows and gravity forgets its duty. When the ball rises, he rises with it, possessing hoopers mid-air and making them question if they can hang with him. The Ghost reminds all who play that beauty in the game isn’t found in the score, but in the moment you lift off and never truly return.

Type: Spirit • Region: Iron Pines

From the stone beneath the Temple of Hoops, a spirit was born — The Spirit of the Mamba. Forged from obsession and repetition, it lives inside those who treat the game like purpose, not pastime. It chooses the hoopers who rise before dawn, who shoot until their arms are weak, who see failure as the start of mastery. When it enters a warrior, their mentality changes — every move sharp, every breath measured by hunger. The Mamba spirit does not grant peace; it demands pursuit. Those touched by it chase endlessly — the competition, the perfection, the next possession. They fall, they bleed, they rise again. The Spirit of the Mamba is not calm or kind — it’s relentless, whispering only one command through every miss and make alike: keep going.

Type: Spirit • Region: Iron Pines

When battles grew tight and a closer was needed, The Winter Shogun summoned his finisher — a spirit forged for endings. They called him The Spirit Snatcher. He appears only in the final breaths of a game, when the crowd holds its breath and the game is on the line. He moves through that silence with no fear — ready for the moment. The air sharpens when he steps in, the world narrowing to one possession. Opponents say he can reach inside and take a fragment of what drives you — not to hurt, but to leave you hollow, emptied of fight. Legends tell that at the Capital’s All-Star Game, when scores draw even and the game is on the line, the Winter Shogun gives a quiet nod. The Spirit Snatcher steps forward, his focus steady, his intent absolute — the final shadow before victory falls.

Type: Spirit • Region: Golden Court (Haunts North)

Not far from the capital, deep in the fog-drenched wetlands, lingers a spirit known as The Swamp Ronin. Once a loyal samurai of the old Emperor from The Thousand Fans region, he was slain during the uprising that ended that age. His body fell, but his spirit refused to sink. Now he haunts the swaps in the north of The Golden Court, half-man, half-memory, challenging anyone who dares step onto his flooded court. His spirit carries through the mist, echoing the vows he once swore to defend his fallen master. Some say his spirit will find peace only when he defeats the new emperor; others believe he guards the ruins of his past out of love, not vengeance. Either way, when fog rolls across the marshes, even the bravest hoopers choose another path.

Type: Spirit • Region: Thousand Fans

Long ago, before the courts were built or the regions divided, a lone traveler walked the lands of Edo Ball — a humble wanderer seeking purpose, not glory. His journey led him through storms and silence until he reached The Cascading Falls, where a single stone lay resting in the water. He lifted it from the current and felt something awaken — rhythm, flow, life itself. That stone became The Rock, the first Edo Ball, and from that moment, the Spirit of The Game was born. It was last seen in his hands while he was still human — eternal, wise, and inspiring. After passing into the underworld, his spirit continued its journey home, traveling past the unfinished statue of the old Emperor and into the hills north of the old capital. Hoopers say the Spirit of the Game lives in the connection between player and rock — a quiet gateway to the game itself.

Type: Spirit • Region: Thousand Fans

They say The Rock was born from The Cascading Falls — a spirit of stone created by centuries of relentless current. When the Spirit of the Game found it, he lifted it from the riverbed, and the world of Edo Ball was born. Since then, every ball has carried a piece of its soul — honest, grounded, and eternal. The Rock never lies; it rewards hustle and punishes ego. In its shape lives the balance between chaos and calm, art and war. Across Edo Ball, players speak of The Rock with reverence. To hold it is to feel the soul of generations — warriors, spirits, and wanderers who gave their all to the game. Each bounce echoes through the land; each swish reminds the world that truth, like the Rock, never fades.

Type: Spirit • Region: Breaker Isles

In the southern Isles, where volcano and ocean meet, legends tell of a historic yōkai known as The Bunny — said to have developed extraordinary hops, leaping higher than any warrior in Edo Ball. Some call it a myth, a story whispered between generations of hoopers; yet those who travel south swear they’ve seen it — a blur of motion, a dunk so pure it bends the air itself. The Bunny’s hops are joyful and bold, filled with the spirit of freedom that defines the Breaker Isles. Each leap seems to defy gravity’s patience, as if time itself pauses to watch. It’s said the Bunny first trained at The Windmill long ago, learning hang time from the northern winds before drifting south. There, nourished by the Isles’ fertile land and rich produce, the spirit became something more — a mythical marvel of hang time.

Type: Spirit/Warrior • Region: Breaker Isles

High on the volcanic ridges lives the Bonsai Baller, the spiritual leader of the Breaker Isles. To his people, he is both gardener and guardian — a master who shapes the rhythm of life as carefully as he shapes his game. A spiritual master of balance and control, he lets the flow of the game come to him, never forcing, always guiding. His calm is his weapon; his patience, his power. Those who face him say his presence bends the pace of play, wearing you down in every game. For generations, he has protected his people’s land from the reach of the Eternal Shogun of the Capital, who sought to expand into the fertile southern lands. The Bonsai Baller stands rooted — not in defiance, but for his people.

Type: Spirit • Region: Breaker Isles

Forged in the volcano’s heart, The Flamed Reaper burns through the Isles like living fire. Every heat-check feels like an eruption ready to consume the court. His flame is not anger, but devotion — the pure expression of a perfect jump shot. When the game begins, his temperature rises with each made shot until the court glows around him. Opponents swear they can feel the air shimmer before he even releases the ball. His touch is the stuff of legend — a perfect shot, a dagger, a firestorm. He’s said to be the eternal rival of The Ice Ronin, their duels a storm of opposing worlds: ice meeting flame, calm meeting fury.

Type: Spirit • Region: All

There is a spirit that moves through the courts unseen — The Object of Desire. Born from obsession, it takes the shape of the basketball itself, glowing faintly in the hands of those it possesses. Warriors dream of it, chase it, lose themselves to it. It whispers in every player’s ear: one more shot, one more win, one more chance to be remembered. The deeper the desire, the brighter it burns, until it consumes even the calmest heart. Some say the greatest champions are those who’ve learned to master it — not to own it, but to play alongside it. Warriors consumed by this spirit often see it take physical form as a ball. The levels of obsession vary, but those most deeply overtaken have sometimes risen to the greatest heights of the game.

Type: Spirit • Region: All

The Offseason embodies the restless time between court battles. When the cheers fade and the crowds disperse, this spirit awakens — whispering to warriors who can’t let go of the game. It fills their minds with repetition, their nights with dreams of footwork, their hearts with unfinished work. Restless, hopeful, and obsessive, it drives them toward perfection they’ll never stop chasing. This spirit has followed many of the land’s greatest warriors — including the Spirit of the Mamba and The Last Samurai. It overtakes them in the quiet months, pushing them to train relentlessly, to rebuild, to rise again. The Offseason never truly ends; it only waits, unseen, in the echo of a bouncing ball — reminding every hooper that greatness doesn’t rest.

Type: Location • Region: Iron Pines

The flex of the hardwood, the bounce of the ball, the power of The Great Game — nobody can deny its energy. On the coastal courts of The Iron Pines, warriors gather to test themselves against the elements and each other. The game rolls like the sea — calm and fluid one moment, crashing and uncontrollable the next. Teams rise and fall like tides. Twenty points ahead can become ten behind before the tide changes. Respect for the game is everything here. Effort, The Rock, and humility are what keep a player afloat when the current turns against them.

Type: Location • Region: Iron Pines

High in the mountains of The Iron Pines, the Temple of Hoops stands open to the sky — a court etched from stone, its lines carved by generations. Travelers climb the twenty-one steps to reach it, where the sacred game begins. The rule is simple: first to twenty-one may ring the sacred ball bell, whose sound carries through the valleys. Each shot here is a prayer, each bounce a vow. The rock feels heavier at this altitude, as if testing one’s faith. To play at the Temple is to face the truth of the game — no crowd, no noise, only the echo of the ball and the face of your opponent. When the sacred bell is struck, its sound rolls down the mountain like thunder turned to prayer. The echo lingers long after the game ends — a reminder that true greatness isn’t in the shot that wins, but in the silence that follows.

Type: Location • Region: Iron Pines

At the far northern edge of the lands stands The Gateway — a crimson torii marking the passage from the profane to the sacred. It is guarded by The Winter Shogun and his pack, who protect the courts where the spirit of the game begins. Here, beneath falling snow, basketball itself becomes the bridge between worlds. The game offers a sacred place to make allies, laugh, and share stories. People come to escape their burdens and find balance, to speak the universal language of basketball. Beneath the arch, strangers become teammates, rivals become allies, and the rock becomes a shared connection. All are welcome. No borders, religions or beliefs divide those who gather here. Each clean shot that falls through the net is a quiet offering — a moment where hoopers join as one. The Gateway stands open to every soul who seeks connection through the game, uniting the land with the bounce of the rock.

Type: Location • Region: Iron Pines

West of the mountains lies a half-buried court called The Graveyard — a quiet place where ankles, pride, and spirits all meet the same fate...

Type: Location • Region: Golden Court

High above the river gorge lies a narrow path carved by centuries of footsteps. The climb is steep, the bridge sways with gust, and only those who truly love the game dare to cross it. At its end rests the clifftop court — The Journey at Dusk — where warriors gather to test their courage and endurance. Despite the treacherous path and the thin mountain air, players return here time and time again. The effort sharpens them, and the reward is pure: just enough moonlight to run it back, again and again. Each game is played in half-light, where sound travels farther than sight, and every basket feels like the energy that keeps the moon alive. It was here that The Eternal Shogun and The Daimyo once clashed for control of the Capital — their battle waged beneath the rising dusk moon, their shadows long and their resolve unbroken.

Type: Location • Region: Golden Court

South of Block Mountain, along the main traveler’s path, lies a court known for its quiet determination — The Bamboo Season. Warriors come here to train when the air is heavy with heat and the ground warms beneath their feet. The court sits open among tall stalks that shift with every shot. Each movement is mirrored in the game — the bend before the rise, the pause before release. Warriors spend days here working on form, footwork, and patience. The bamboo teaches balance: to bend without breaking, to move with the game, to return stronger after every miss. There is no king of this court — only the lesson that the game, like the bamboo, rewards those who move with balance. Those who leave this grove take its lessons with them, their game taller, calmer, and quietly refined by the season’s touch.

Type: Location • Region: Golden Court

They say The Spirit of the Game once discovered the first Edo Ball here — The Rock — shaped over centuries by the steady force of falling water. In this gorge, stone and stream have long been teachers, polishing both the game and the souls of those who come seeking clarity. The Cascading Game isn’t played; it’s felt. Warriors travel here to reflect, to listen, to remember why they devoted themselves to the game. The waterfall’s rhythm becomes their heartbeat — a constant flow between motion and calm. Mist drifts across the court as if the air itself is breathing. Here, strength means surrender and mastery means flow. Those who sit beside the falls leave knowing that like the water, the game never stops — it only changes shape.

Type: Location • Region: Thousand Fans

Each spring, when the sakura return, the Eternal Blossom court blooms once more. The petals drift across the lines like falling memories, softening every edge of the game. Warriors from the Capital travel south to meet the crafters of The Thousand Fans — players who move with grace rather than aggression. Among them are two who reunite every year, lovers of the game and of each other. Their bond mirrors the cycle of the blossoms — separation in winter, reunion in spring. They play not to win, but to remember, passing the ball as though it were a promise carried through seasons. When the last petal lands, they part again — their hearts light, their spirits anchored in the game that always brings them back. The court falls silent, waiting for spring to bloom once more.

Type: Location • Region: Thousand Fans

North of the old Capital, the land falls away into mist. Here stands The Waterfall — the tallest in Edo Ball — and beside it, a narrow court carved into the cliff. The roar of the falls replaces the cheers of a crowd. Every bounce must be balanced, every release deliberate. Here, accuracy isn’t just a skill — it’s survival. Warriors travel from distant regions to test their focus beneath the crashing falls — where one lapse in focus turns a shot into an airball. The Waterfall is more than a court — it’s a teacher. Those who play beneath its roar learn that focus is survival, and balance is life. The Spring Samurai is its finest student — undefeated here, his game shaped by the water that never stops falling.

Type: Location • Region: Thousand Fans

Tucked between overgrown trees lies a sun-bleached court that hums with life each summer. Locals call it Fan of the Game — an oasis where the heat rises from the courtt and laughter echoes through the branches. No trophies, no banners — just pure basketball and the heartbeat of community. From dawn to dusk, players of every region and ability gather here. They trade buckets, talk trash, and share stories, bound by something deeper than score. Nobody knows why the energy feels different on this court — only that when the ball hits the ground, the city seems to breathe with it. Just as the subtle summer breeze created by a Japanese sensu fan knocks the first foliage from the trees to the ground, so too do the lay-ups and jumpers begin to fall into the net. The traveler’s who gather at the street ball court are there for one reason — for the basketball itself, as true fans of the game.

Type: Location • Region: Thousand Fans (Statue)

In the heart of The Thousand Fans stands a colossal unfinished statue — a monument to the old Emperor who once ruled these lands. His reign ended abruptly during the All-Star Games, when an unseen assassin struck mid-ceremony. Some whisper it was The Shinobi, acting under hidden command. The statue was never completed. Crafters from across the region still bring stone and gold to its base, layer upon layer, as if finishing it might restore what was lost. The Emperor’s eyes, half carved, look east toward the Capital he once governed — watching, waiting, forgiving. Now, the monument stands as both warning and inspiration: a reminder that greatness can crumble, but legacy endures.

Type: Location • Region: Breaker Isles

In a southern fishing village where black sand meets water, a garden once took root — planted by the Ikebana All Stars after they brought seeds from The Thousand Fans. The volcanic soil changed them, and their blossoms curved in the arc of a court. As the flowers grew, so too did the court. The villagers crafted the rest of the court among them, where the bounce of the ball and the rustle of petals became one sound. The court came alive with color and motion — jumpers blooming like spring, passes flowing. It was the moment basketball itself found beauty, where competition became creation. What began as a garden became something greater: a fusion of the land and the game, a living court where basketball itself took root in the hearts of the southern people.

Type: Location • Region: Breaker Isles

At the center of the Isles once stood a small village swallowed by floodwater. When the waves finally pulled back, only the court remained — cracked, worn, and steady. From its heart, a single tree had grown through the surface, its roots tangled deep in the volcanic soil. The survivors rebuilt around it, naming the court Support & Stability in honor of what endured. The game played here is slow and grounded, defined by teamwork and trust — a lesson carved by loss. Traveler’s still come to rest beneath the great tree’s shade, touching its bark before taking the court. They say its roots remember every player who’s fallen, every spirit that’s risen. And when the storms return, the people gather to play again, reminding the land that strength isn’t measured by how long you stand — but how often you rise.

Type: Location • Region: Breaker Isles

Far beyond the coast, through roaring surf and tearing wind, lies Isolation Island — a place few reach and fewer leave. The journey is trial enough; boats splinter, oars snap, yet some still make it ashore. For those who do, a single court waits — carved directly into volcanic stone, surrounded by the endless sea. To most warriors, this is known as the true hooper’s court — the ultimate test beyond all others in Edo Ball. There are no crowds, no boundaries, no sound but the ocean. Every dribble feels like defiance; every shot echoes into nothing. To play here is to face yourself — without noise, without expectation, without pride. It’s said that The Spring Samurai, king of The Waterfall court, battles here as well — undefeated beneath lightning skies. His movements mirror the storm, and those who face him leave changed. On this island, victory means nothing — survival is the win.