As they walked, Troy explained the layout of the city. Like most major cities, it was modeled based on the teachings of Emperor Muir, with Heaven's Vanguard as the model. Even after the Six Heroes vanquished the demon king, remnants of power still seeped in from the demonic plane. These connections were called cracks, and monsters and corruption poured out from them endlessly. But opportunity accompanied danger, and the cracks were also where the highest concentration of aura could be found. To suppress the demonic power and ensure humanity's future, Emperor Muir established the system of governance which was maintained to this day. Each city would have a Hegemon who would suppress the crack and refine the ambient aura into spirit stones. These stones served as currency for cultivators and rewards for various civil tasks, so that the ones who contributed the most to the city would grow proportionally stronger.

As was customary, Lanarium divided into concentric rings, with the planar crack in the center. The outermost ring was for the people who hadn't ignited their first flame: those who either didn't cultivate at all, or were only in foundation establishment. This was the largest part of the city, and you could find shops, food, entertainment, parks and more. Moving inward, the next ring was where most cultivators dwelt. The notable features of this area were Astral Academy, which was the official cultivation school, and also various unaffiliated cultivation dojos, guilds, and specialized places for cultivators to buy treasures or commission the creation of artifacts and weapons. The third ring was the area reserved for the three big houses, each of which people associated with one aspect of the city's administration. The Cloudtide house dealt with the distribution of spirit stones and other economic matters, the Snowflower house handled civil and cultural matters, and the Inkrock house distributed and managed knowledge and information. In addition, they jointly came up with and enforced the laws through the City Guard, and also ran the Astral Academy.

As Rust followed the others through the gate, the first thing he saw was the enormous statue which stood in the center of the entrance square. A white leopard wore a cloak studded with stars, looking down on the city with a domineering expression. Three large disks engraved with runes adorned the leopard's back, made to look as if they were floating. The statue boasted incredible detail, every stone fur lined with gold and silver which reflected the sun's rays. Moreso than just its appearance, the statue gave off a feeling of suppressive might, no doubt generated by the runes somehow. The statue's subject was, of course, the city's Hegemon. Unlike most cities, Lanarium's Hegemon was a member of the Divine Beast Clan. When Troy had told him about this, he didn't know what exactly that meant, but as he looked at the statue, some stories about the clan came back to him.

The first divine beast, Juran, was a winged wolf who stood taller than a man. Legend had it that on the day of Emperor Augustus Muir's first battle against the demons, black rain fell from the sky, and where it fell, armor melted and flesh rotted. Just as the young emperor's troops were about to be routed, a wolf with white wings descended onto the battlefield, and on its back, it carried a ball of flame. "Do not be afraid," it said as the flame engulfed the desperate army. But instead of burning them, it gave them new strength, and underneath its protection, the black rain evaporated before touching their skin. The people came to revere Juran as the Wolf Shouldering The Sun, and after defeating the demon king, Juran, who'd achieved a human form, became the second of the Six Heroes. His descendants were few, unlike the other heroes, and they took on the shapes of myriad animals, not just wolves, but they carried on his legacy, acting as the stalwart defenders of humanity against the remnants of darkness. This was the Divine Beast Clan.

Like many members of the Divine Beast Clan, Lanarium's Hegemon had little interest in worldly, human matters. According to Troy, he spent his days cooped up in an underground forge, reading books, creating spirit stones, and tinkering with contraptions like the Mirror of Purifying Light. The only time he'd actively use his power was to pamper his grandson with gifts and officiate ceremonial matters. Thus, although the highest power in the city was in theory the Hegemon, for most people, it was really whichever of the three big houses was located closer to them.

"Rust, you'll have plenty of time for sightseeing later! Follow me," Troy called out, beckoning Rust to a street leading to the side. "You too, Solaar!" The other boy was already quite far from them, heading further into the heart of the city, but he turned around at the sound of Troy's voice. "Come on, we have to take the scenic route when you're with us!" Solaar shook his head, amused, but followed anyway.

At first, Rust didn't know why Troy had asked Solaar to take this particular route, but it soon became obvious. The moment they turned the corner, Rust was greeted with the overwhelming smell of food. As they walked down the street, the aroma of roast meats and fried breads grew stronger, making his mouth water with anticipation as he realized he hadn't eaten anything yet. At last, they turned another corner and Rust could see the stalls giving off those heavenly aromas.

When the people in the street noticed the group, they quickly moved to the sides, chattering about Solaar. They spoke in hushed tones and quick glances, but if Rust could hear them, there was no way that Solaar wouldn't. Not everyone was so shy, however. As they made their way closer, several people stopped by to exchange quick words with Troy or Solaar or both.

When they made it to the first stall, a middle-aged woman stepped out from behind it, carrying a tray of something fried. "Young master Solaar, I didn't expect you to come this way! Welcome back!"

Surprisingly, she was a one flame warrior, albeit not a very strong one. "Here, take as many as you'd like," she said, holding the tray out.

Solaar took it with an easy smile. "You all want any?" Solaar offered the group as he thanked the woman.

Reina refused, but Rust wasn't going to stand on ceremony. He and Troy bit into the treats with delight, the hot bread filling his mouth with butter, cinnamon, and a hint of vanilla. The texture was fluffy, with a crisp outside layer that had just the right amount of crunch.

"Come on Solaar, try one. They're delicious!" Troy shoved a pastry in front of Solaar, already halfway done his own. Rust had to agree. They absolutely were delicious, although he might not be the best person to judge, considering he didn't have memories of eating anything else. Still, he was sure that this was a top rate pastry.

The other boy pushed Troy's hand away. "I'm not hungry—"

"That never stopped you when you were stuffing your face as a kid!" the woman said, laughing as Solaar flushed slightly. "What happened? Did my baking get worse?"

"She got you there," Troy laughed. "Just because you don't have to eat doesn't mean that you should just give up on this heavenly flavor. Don't you remember the last feast? The almighty Hegemon himself ate enough for 50 people, probably more. And then he gave a speech about how eating good food was the same as having a good life! Are you saying you disagree with the Almighty Hegemon?"

"That's not—mmf..." Troy cut Solaar's protest off by putting a pastry in his mouth, and the youth took it from him with a look of resignation.

The woman laughed again before narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Seeing the three of you together, I reckon Troy and Reina needed their asses saved again?" Troy rubbed the back of his neck as she continued, taking his silence as an admission. "Stop letting them do this," she said, turning to Solaar. "They choose the dangerous stuff when they know you'll be out there at the same time. Stop letting them take advantage of you. Charge them for it, or something. Even if you don't need the money. Just to send a message."

"Wait, wait! Don't give him any ideas. You don't understand how hard it is these days. Everything's getting more expensive, and the taxes..." Troy's voice trailed off under the woman's withering glare.

"For the record," Reina said, speaking for the first time in the conversation, "I've been telling him to stop for ages now. This time, we really almost died. If it wasn't for Rust here, we wouldn't even have lasted long enough for Solaar to help us."

"You got help from someone in foundation establishment?" The woman gave Rust an appraising look. "Impressive. I don't think I've seen you around before. Call me Sheila. As you can see, I run this humble pastry stand. And occasionally act as a common sense advisor to some blockheads."

"I'm Rust," he said simply, giving her a slight nod. "These are really good," he added, starting on his fourth pastry.

"He's a refugee from Shadowrest," Troy explained, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone.

Sheila shook her head. "Another one, huh? Is the situation getting that bad?"

Rust looked at the ground, hoping someone else would answer for him. Luckily, Solaar did. "It's not looking good. The city will probably fall soon. Months if it happens early, but only two or three years from now at the latest, unless it gets a new city lord."

"May the Six watch over Lanarium." Sheila cupped her hands and gave a short prayer. "Well, we're glad to have you, Rust. I hope you find a new home here. It's hard to find people willing to put their life on the line for strangers. If you need any help with getting settled, come find me." She gave him a warm smile before turning back to Troy. "You better give him a good cut of the haul," she said, folding her arms. "If I hear you ripped him off, you won't be welcome at my stand any more, mark my words."

"Understood, Ma'am." Troy gave her a small salute.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer," she said. "Take care, Solaar. Thanks for everything you do. And grab a few more pastries for the road. I know you like them."

"I'm just doing my job as a Cloudtide," he said with a wry smile, but he took the offering anyway.

"Come back soon!" Sheila called after them as they continued down the street.

She wasn't the only one who had spontaneous gifts for Solaar. By the time they'd made it to the end, they'd received several bolts of silk, some loose jewelry, a few carvings, and enough food to feed them for a week. Solaar ended up giving most of these to the other vendors, so instead of accumulating them, they were just exchanged. Except for the food, which was mostly shared by Rust and Troy. It didn't end with that, however. As they crossed from the outer section of the city into the middle section, the attention they received was even more prominent, and the gifts became less mundane. They, or more accurately Solaar, received everything from charms and scrolls with runes on them, to a small dagger and a set of rocks which he couldn't quite tell the use for, but couldn't be ordinary, given that they radiated a dull aura. These sellers were mostly two flame warriors, and a few had even reached the three flame level. Unlike before, Troy was noticeably more subdued when dealing with these people, although he consistently continued to exchange at least a few words with all of them.

But whether it was the gifts from before, or the ones they were receiving now, the conversations went more or less all the same way. In the outer region, many of the people who spoke with them genuinely seemed to share a connection with Solaar, but the later gifts were just thinly veiled attempts at currying favor. Solaar would take the gifts and make some small talk, along with Troy, often about events that Rust didn't understand. While they did, Reina's scowl, which she'd been wearing ever since entering the city, got a little deeper each time. Finally, at the end of the street, Troy pulled them toward a dilapidated storefront. A crooked sign above the door read "Ebern's Masterworks", along with a few crude decorations. Troy plowed ahead, but once it became clear where they were going, Solaar looked back at Reina with a questioning glance.

"No." She stopped in her tracks. "We are not doing this."

"Come on, we have to. It's for Rust, not me," Troy insisted. He gave a nod toward Rust's waist, where his tattered sword hung loosely from a sash tied around his waist.

Reina snorted, folding her arms. "Fine. You guys go ahead then. I'm not watching this clown show."

"Uh..." Rust was about to say that he didn't need whatever this was supposed to be for, but she waved him forward, having apparently agreed to it.

"Don't worry about her," Troy told him. "She's just got some stuff on her mind. But don't ask her about it." And then, as he noticed Solaar take a step toward her, added in a hurry—"Especially not you, Solaar." The other boy frowned briefly, but his expression quickly settled back into the loose smile he always wore.

"Alright. Lead the way, then."

The inside of the store wasn't much better maintained than the outside. Most of the shelves were empty, and the few swords, spears, armors, and daggers that were displayed were haphazardly strewn about, with no real organization. Contrary to the appearance of the shop, though, the items themselves looked well made. Rust could see his own reflection in the blades, and he could tell their sharpness at a glance. Behind the counter sat a muscular man, in his mid-50s, reading a newspaper. As they walked toward him, he didn't look up, either not noticing them or pretending not to.

"Oi, old man." Troy thumped on the counter twice. "You better not be trying your 'I'll ignore them so I can seem like I don't need the money and get a negotiating advantage' routine right now."

"And why not, brat?" The man looked up, eyeing Troy dismissively. "You can't afford the things here anyway."

"Wash out your eyes and take a good look at your customer today." Troy laughed as he stepped aside, revealing Solaar behind him.

The youth gave the man a slight nod, and his eyes widened into saucers. "Y-young master Solaar! I didn't know it was you! Sorry I made you wait. You... uh... you honor us with your presence." His red face grew even redder as he stumbled over his obviously rehearsed words.

"So, Master Ebern." Troy leaned on the counter. "How's business been? This is Rust," he said, gesturing next to him. "He's new to the city, so we're taking him to see the sights. Obviously, we couldn't miss the shop of the most illustrious blacksmith of the middle area."

A flash of recognition appeared in Ebern's eyes. "This young friend looks like he's had a tough journey," he said, nodding at the mottled relic strapped to Rust's waist. He led them outside the back of the store, where the forge was located, and grabbed a sword from the rack next to it. "How about a small gift to welcome your arrival?" The man was speaking to Rust, but kept stealing glances at Solaar's expression. "I was experimenting with some special materials last week. This sword is a little... unconventional. I was thinking carefully about who would be the best fit for it, but seeing such a promising young swordsman as yourself, it must be, er, fate." He unsheathed it, revealing a pure white blade. It looked to be made of bone, and Rust could still faintly feel a trace amount of aura leaking from it, no doubt from the beast it formerly belonged to.

Troy whistled. "Is that the bone from the corrupted beast they killed at the northern outpost last month?"

"That's right. What do you think, young man? It's yours now. Why don't you try it out?" The blacksmith practically shoved the sword into Rust's hands.

"Are you sure...?"

"Of course, of course!" It was a little jarring to see the massive man nodding his head like a chicken. "You're actually doing me a favor. Every blacksmith wants to see their swords in the hands of great men." His smile was far too large to be genuine.

Rust looked at the sword again. It was decent, but... he knew that despite its appearance, the one he had was better. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have an extra, and refusing would make things awkward. "Then... thank you," he said, taking the sword. "I'll put it to good use."

Solaar nodded in approval. "It suits you," Ebern proclaimed, delighted at Solaar's reaction. "I'm sure this sword will be useful as you make your name known across all of Lanarium."

Ebern spent another minute singing Rust's praises before moving on to what was clearly the real purpose of the gift. "Then, if you have a moment, young master, do you think you could give my son a little guidance in aura?" Ebern was all smiles as he looked at Solaar expectantly. "A couple minutes of guidance from a master is worth years of self study. As a father, I just want to see his effort rewarded."

"Why not?" Solaar said. "Let's take a look at your son."

In the yard, a boy probably two or three years younger than Rust and Solaar was practicing with a spear. He was close to the peak of foundation establishment, and Rust could see faint strands of aura entering his body and flowing through the spear.

"Son, get over here! Show the young master your aura." The boy was obviously nervous, but showed off a series of valiant spear thrusts. The first few were without a hint of aura, but he seemed to hit his stride with the final ones. A noticeable but uneven flow of aura surged across the tip of the spear with the last strike, causing a small burst of wind to flow through the yard. Sweat poured down the boy's face as he planted the spear into the ground, leaning on it as he panted. His face was flushed, but he couldn't hide his smile, obviously proud of what he'd done. Ebern rubbed his hands together. "What do you think, young master? Please point out the flaws in my son's training." Both father and son stared at Solaar, expectation shining in their eyes.

"Not bad, but it needs some refinement. Keep compressing the aura in your body and don't rush your ignition. Remember. Only a well-tempered foundation can give rise to a true flame, one that comes from concept enlightenment."

Solaar brandished his spear across the ground, and within a few seconds, a series of finely placed cuts spelled out the word "Patience" in a beautiful script. The cuts were thin but deep, and Rust could feel the warm remnants of Solaar's aura still resonating out from them. "When you externalize your aura, it helps to have a concrete medium to practice your control with," he said. "For me, that's calligraphy, but you can choose anything that requires precision. Refine your aura with purpose, and the benefits will slowly but surely grow with time."

The kid nodded, staring at the script with wonder. "What are you doing? Thank the young master!" Ebern chided his son, quickly pulling both of them into a bow.

"Oh! Um, thank you, young master Solaar!"

Ebern clasped his hands together. "Truly, your generosity is as... as..."

"Boundless as heaven and earth," Troy finished for him. "Take care, Master Ebern! I'm afraid my dear partner is still waiting for us, so we'll be taking our leave now."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Troy started laughing. "I can't believe that miser said that he was looking for the right person to sell his sword to. He would have sold it to literally anybody with the money to afford it. The man loves money so much that he can't bear to spend a little to fix up his own store. He's too busy saving it up so that he can bribe anyone he needs to make sure his son enters Astral Academy with the best teachers. Speaking of which...," Troy cast a furtive glance at Solaar. "Won't you get in trouble if word gets out about this? And it will. You know that Ebern's going to parade that script you made in his yard as much as he can. I heard your family was working out some deal with Ebern. Won't this hurt their leverage?"

Solaar shrugged. "The boy had real potential. It is the duty of the Cloudtide house to nurture talents where we can." His gaze turned to Rust, where it lingered for a second. "Besides, payment where payment is due. It's a nice sword."

"How much would it have cost?" Rust asked, curious. "I'll pay you back when I can."

Troy laughed. "An arm and a leg for me, but just a drop in the ocean for our young master here."

"Don't worry about it. If you really want to pay me back, do me a favor sometime," Solaar said.

When they rejoined with Reina, her brow furrowed a little as she looked at the newly acquired sword, but she only made a grunt of disapproval and no further comment. Together, they walked for a few more minutes in relative silence, until finally, Troy stopped in front of a majestic looking building. Banners of multiple colors flew high above its spire, and a golden plaque with the words Gilded Eagle Hall hung above the entrance. "Well, I hope you enjoyed taking the scenic route. I'm afraid this is where our journey must adjourn. But just for today." He stopped in front of the entrance. "This is the main administrative office in Lanarium. It acts as the liaison between the three big houses and the unaffiliated cultivators. Civil requests from both the government and unaffiliated parties are posted here, and it's also where new laws or other important announcements are made. But of course, most importantly," he said with a jubilant grin, "it's the place where we get paid."