Someone's strong hands lifted you off the ground. And through the veil of unconsciousness you heard so many voices, they were blending into one continuous mess. It was hard to make out what was going on and where you were. Especially since you weren't able to open your eyes.

"There's a potentially injured person here," someone said right above your ear. His timbre is low, slightly hoarse. "We need to get them to the base. As soon as possible."

Calcharo shifted your weakened body in his arms, and it felt like he was holding a lifeless doll. Whatever had happened to you, it wasn't really important right now. Maybe you were dying, so he needed to act fast. Not like the leader of the Ghost Hounds wanted to be someone's guardian angel, but he couldn't leave a vulnerable unconscious person in the midst of a dangerous environment either.

The man sharply exhaled and nodded to the other mercenaries to head back to the base with him.

When you come back to your senses, Calcharo will be very interested in hearing your story. And maybe ask for a payment for his life-saving services.

That's how the real world works, love. No offence.