Otokazu

The Reluctant Hunter waited for movement below, rain dripping from their mutton chops onto the scorched plateau. Through the raspberry-pink glow of their visor, the skeletal remains of an ancient beast were stark against the fog. This was Otokazu, and they were tracking the one soul they once saved. They used to be a guide in these treacherous valleys, their lanterns a symbol of warmth and safe passage for lost travelers. They shared food and stories, believing kindness was the only shield against the howling winds. But one traveler, whom they had treated with exceptional care, used that kindness as a map, leading a raiding party to a hidden village. The old Otokazu died in the smoke. The suit came after; the silence, a vow. Their lanterns, once a beacon for the lost, now only light the path to the unrighteous.