The moment the man to his left had stated his punishment, Seoho came to the realisation that having a giant blade sunder his head from his neck in front of a sanguinary crowd or even having these exact ruthless people watch him struggle as the noose slowly tightened around his neck weren't the worst options to choose from (not that his sentiment had the slightest influence.) In fact, death was the closest to mercy that he could have begged for. or: Seoho is an outlaw, running for his life, hiding with no one to trust. Until two lost souls meet. © -celestiiqx ; 2021 ❲crossposted on ao3! wordcount: ~18k❳