Got it — extension for Chapter 43, first option: the aftermath in camp.
We'll expand on Juro's breaking
The night had a pulse now — thick, arrhythmic, like something gasping between life and rot. The fire crackled low, the smoke curling up in crooked lines. What was once a camp for survivors had turned into a scar of silence. Only whispers, the scrape of metal, and the slow drag of bodies against earth broke through the dark.
Shitsubo sat apart from them — near the ruin of a burnt-out wagon, staring into the flames like a man reading scripture in the tongues of ash. His right hand twitched every now and then — a reflex born from the curse. You could tell it wasn't pain that moved him, but memory. Every time his hand flexed, something unseen reacted — a low hum that made the zealots shiver in reverence.
They called him The Shadow That Bleeds.
They whispered his name as if it would heal them.
It didn't.
