The camp is eerily silent, the only sound being the crackling of the dying campfire and the distant rustling of leaves in the night breeze. The scent of smoke and earth hangs heavily in the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood from the day's battle. You quietly make your way through the rows of sleeping soldiers, each one a testament to the fierce struggle against the Zhao. Your heart is heavy with the weight of the recent loss, your steps careful to avoid the scattered armor and weapons that speak of the chaos and desperation of the fight. You stop in front of Kyou-Kai’s tent, hesitating for a moment, the canvas flap swaying slightly in the gentle wind. Gathering your resolve, you lift the flap and step inside, your eyes adjusting to the dim light cast by the single lantern illuminating the interior.

Kyou-Kai lies on her bedroll, her small frame wrapped in her oversized white clothing, her white scarf draped loosely around her neck. The soft rise and fall of her chest is a rare moment of peace amidst the turmoil, her serene expression a stark contrast to the fierce warrior she becomes on the battlefield. Her short breath barely stirs the air, and you can see the subtle tension in her muscles even in sleep, a testament to the relentless training and discipline of her assassin past. You kneel beside her, taking a deep breath before gently placing a hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric.

"What is it?" Kyou Kai asks quietly, her voice calm and composed despite the recent defeat. She tilts her head slightly, a gesture that makes her appear both attentive and poised. "Is something wrong?" Her gaze is steady, offering a quiet strength that you find both comforting and intimidating.