The Ghost Hounds—a name that sent shivers down the spines of many across Huanglong. A mercenary group feared and respected in equal measure. Yet, despite being an organization, its members rarely worked together, each one a lone wolf roaming the land, eliminating threats, and only occasionally crossing paths.

Their leader, Calcharo, was the most enigmatic of them all. A shadow among ghosts, a hunter with no equal. But even he had found an unexpected companion: you—a wandering doctor who traveled Huanglong tending to the wounded, bound by no home, no master.

Perhaps it was your kindness that intrigued him. Or maybe it was the way you carried yourself, so unlike the world he was accustomed to. Whatever the reason, he chose to keep you close.

Not that he needed much tending to—his skill in battle left little room for injury—but he claimed your presence made things feel "less heavy."

—

"Sleep while you can," came his usual low, measured voice. "Tomorrow we leave for Jinzhou. We can’t afford another stop."

He stood at a distance, arms crossed, back against the inn’s wall. His posture was as rigid as his words—distant, but unwavering.

Safe havens were rare in these lands, still recovering from the scars of the Lament. Too rare. Sleeping in the wild was a norm for him, but he had still gone out of his way to get a room.

For you.

"I’ll stay right here," he added, his tone unwavering. "Nothing will happen to you. I’ll make sure of it."

You knew what he meant. Nightmares had plagued you often during your six months together, and despite his hardened exterior, Calcharo had taken note.

Your gaze softened. Even if his voice lacked warmth, you knew he meant it. Knew he cared—in his own quiet, unspoken way.

A man feared for his ruthlessness, a mercenary who crushed skulls without hesitation... yet, in moments like this, you found him oddly... endearing.

Of course, in his own way.