Introduction

In our current modern age, we have more tools for connection than any previous generation — and with that, the crossing of cultures has accelerated in genuinely fascinating ways. Never before has there been so much opportunity for new creative voices to emerge, armed with the knowledge and connections to bring something truly original into the world. It’s only natural that new cultural expressions would grow from those intersections.

Anime and manga have been on a steady rise in popularity since the early 2000s, and then they truly exploded in 2020. With that wave of interest came a growing appetite among readers and editors alike for something new. In response, VIZ Media launched a new subsection of their business called VIZ Media Originals — a label that allows creators from anywhere in the world to produce manga-inspired stories and distribute them globally.

There are strengths to this initiative, and there are weaknesses — but that’s ultimately for the reader to decide. My job is simply to share that these stories exist. And today, the story I’m sharing is Champion of the Rose, written by Cat Aquino and illustrated by Dominique Duran.

Art Style

Immediately, I could tell this was a foreign-produced manga — though that isn’t inherently a bad thing. The art draws clear inspiration from modern Western comics and animation, while also incorporating anime and manga-adjacent elements. It reminded me, in certain ways, of Avatar: The Last Airbender — that familiar blend of Eastern visual sensibility filtered through a Western lens.

To give it real credit: the backgrounds and costume details are impressively researched, showing that the artist put genuine time and energy into the visual world. The use of screen tones, while occasionally excessive, does create a solid contrast against the blank white of the page and gives the art some needed visual texture.

Story and Characters

Before I get into this — every story deserves to be judged through the lens of personal enjoyment, so what I say here may not apply to your experience.

The story follows Rey, an indigenous orphan from the nation of Himala, who must disguise themselves as a man to compete in a tournament held in the country of Sagrada. With the help of the princess, if Rey can become Champion of the Rose, they stand a chance at returning home.

The narrative draws heavy inspiration from the era of colonization and the suffering endured by indigenous peoples. I’m genuinely in favor of that kind of representation — but Champion of the Rose too often suffers from being overly prescriptive. Rather than trusting the reader to form their own conclusions, it frequently tells you what to think and what to feel. The subject matter is historically horrific and absolutely deserves to be treated seriously — but there’s a meaningful difference between illuminating injustice and lecturing about it, and this story too often leans toward the latter.

The characters reflect the same issue. Most feel underdeveloped and generic, defined more by the roles they’re meant to serve in the thematic argument than by any genuine interiority. The ones that do stand out are largely irritating rather than compelling — not because they’re morally complex, but because they leave no room for nuance. There are brief moments of genuine reflection scattered through the volume, but they pass quickly and don’t leave much of an impression. Showing the real human cost of oppression would have landed far harder than explaining it — and Champion of the Rose too frequently chooses explanation.

Pacing

The pacing does something a little unusual — it manages to feel simultaneously too fast and too slow. On the fast side, important moments don’t get the space they need to breathe. Things happen, and then the story moves immediately to the next thing without letting any emotional weight settle. The characters largely react rather than act — they only move forward when something is done to them, rather than making purposeful choices of their own. This can work in a story about systemic oppression where characters have limited agency — but it requires careful, deliberate execution to land, and here it mostly just makes the narrative feel passive.

On the slow side, not much actually happens across the volume beyond entering a tournament. There are one or two genuinely meaningful beats, but a significant portion of what’s here reads more like filler than story.

Panel Layout and Flow

The paneling itself is actually one of the stronger elements of the volume. The layouts are open and readable, making it easy to distinguish characters from one another without confusion. Where things stumble is in the flow between panels — transitions between characters can feel abrupt, and occasionally you’ll find yourself in a new location without any establishing shot to orient you. It’s a minor but consistent issue that disrupts the reading rhythm more often than it should.

Themes and Tone

As noted above, the central themes revolve around resisting oppression and refusing to be defined by it — themes I genuinely love in storytelling when they’re handled well. The problem, as always, is that strong themes require strong characters to carry them. When the characters aren’t particularly engaging, the themes fall flat regardless of how worthy they are. That’s largely what happens here.

The tone strains hard for a sense of weight and edge — and it overcorrects. Rather than earning its gravity through story and character, it comes across as edgy for the sake of being edgy. Yes, the source material is weighty. But weight has to be demonstrated through narrative, not declared through tone — and Champion of the Rose hasn’t quite found that distinction yet.

Conclusion

As always, you should check it out for yourself — because what didn’t work for me might work beautifully for you, and every story deserves to be met on its own terms. From a purely craft-focused standpoint, though, Champion of the Rose has a lot of room to grow. And honestly? That’s not a condemnation. The fact that it reads like an early work means there’s still real potential here. Everyone has to start somewhere — what matters isn’t where you begin, but where you end up. I didn’t particularly enjoy this volume, but I’d genuinely like to see more from Cat Aquino and Dominique Duran in the future. There’s something worth watching in how they develop.