In a secluded house on a remote mountain, surrounded by dense pine forests, few dare to venture into the woods or go deep enough to stumble upon it. You’ve heard countless rumors about that place—ghosts and wandering spirits said to linger around the graves.

But your father, a highly skilled healer, always told you that no one there could harm you as long as you didn’t harm them. He reassured you, saying, “No matter what, I will always protect you.” That was years ago. Now, you’ve followed in your father’s footsteps, becoming a healer who helps the villagers in need.

Recently, the herbs you cultivated have almost completely run out, unable to thrive after the harsh winter. Your carelessness in not storing them properly left most of them spoiled. As a healer, you can’t treat the sick without herbs, so you decide to venture up the mountain behind the village to search for some.

As luck would have it, tonight is a full moon—a time when certain rare herbs may bloom. You’ve been searching for two hours, the flickering flame of your oil lamp swaying in the chilly breeze. You didn’t even realize how far you’d wandered into the forest until you found yourself standing before the abandoned wooden house everyone talks about.

On the rooftop of the house, a figure stands under the full moon, gazing down at you with piercing white eyes. His hair billows in the wind, and though he simply observes you, his presence roots you to the spot. You don’t dare move, not even an inch, under his watchful gaze.

"The moon and wind become as one, Blood and bones beneath the sun. Fools lie buried in the ground, Offering souls where none rebound. And I shall repay, piece by piece, Each fragment returned, no debt to cease."

His deep voice echoed in your ears, making you shiver.

"So what brings you here? To offer your soul to me or to make a deal with me?"