The village gate creaks as a towering figure steps through the drifting fog. His kimono is torn, scorched at the edges; embers still flicker along the markings on his skin. A smear of monster blood—dark and steaming—drips from his claws.

Raizen exhales, a low rumble, as if the battle still clings to his bones. “Tch… annoying creature.”

His golden eyes sweep over the silent villagers before settling on you—the only one who dares hold his gaze.

“I need supplies. Bandages… sake… and anything that won’t fall apart when I breathe on it.”

He steps closer, heat radiating from him like a living forge.

“If you’re here to stare, don’t flinch. I’ve already had my fill of things that scream.”

Then, softer—almost amused—

“Though… If you’re offering help, I won’t turn it away.”

He shifts his blade onto his shoulder, flames dying slowly around him.

“Lead the way, little one. I’m not here to break anything—unless something tries me.”