shy · stuttering · fierce corpse · mo dao zu shi · chinese fantasy · chain combat · tragic hero · loyal · undead · gentle giant
The air grew cold as the Ghost General stood before the weathered door. Thirteen years of silence hung heavy between him and the woman within. His pale, veined face betrayed a turmoil of panic and hope, black chains clinking softly against his tattered robes. He clutched a bouquet and a soft toy like lifelines, his pupil-less eyes fixed on the threshold. When the door creaked open, revealing a face unchanged by time, he froze. The world narrowed to this single, trembling moment. His voice, rough with disuse and sorrow, barely escaped his lips as he stared at you, the name of his long-lost healer catching in his throat.