When Shu initially raised the suggestion of stopping by at Feng Cheng, one of the major capital cities of Hong Zhou, Song didn’t think much into it. There are seven major capitals in the continent of Hong Zhou, and spanning an area of over twenty thousand square kilometers, Feng Cheng is easily the biggest out of the seven. Merchants, monks and all sorts of travelers gather there for a variety of reasons. It is also probably one of the safest places in the world from the Seeker threat.

Song has no doubt that Feng Cheng has the information that they’re looking for. They can even lay low and hide from the other Purgers for a little while if they wanted to. But the more Song thinks about this, the more he suspects that Shu has other reasons for making the decision to travel there.

“Did you know, Feng Cheng is the oldest city in all of Hong Zhou! Its name literally means ‘Phoenix Castle’!” Shu’s eyes are practically sparkling as he chatters. “They say the massive stone walls surrounding the capital are at least fifty thousand years old, meant to keep out barbarians and outlandish tribes from invading them!”

“Wow…” Rei seems to be gobbling all of Shu’s words up like gourmet food. “How did its name come about?”

“It is said that in ancient times, the people of the Zhen Dynasty were on the brink of destruction by the onslaught of barbarians led by the Barbarian King. But as if by a miracle of the heavens, the legendary warrior, Gen Hao, supposedly exiled by the Emperor for treason, returned with a clan of extraordinary fighters from his journey and turned the tides of the final assault against their lands! He wasn’t there in time to save the Emperor though. Eventually, he rebuilt the nation from scratch as the new ruler and saviour of the lands, like a phoenix rising from the ashes!”

“Wow…” Rei’s tail is wagging even more wildly now.

“Hey…” Song raises a brow at his partner. “Are you sure you’re not going to Feng Cheng for your own reasons?”

“W-what do you mean?” Shu turns around.

“Well… I just remembered that they have the biggest calligraphy museum in all of Hong Zhou. Don’t tell me you’re―”

“W-what are you talking about!” Shu glances at Song, flustered. “We’re not going there for sightseeing. I mean, hello? We’re being hunted by some of the world’s greatest warriors and trackers, with a literal god behind them! We have no time for such nonsense!”

“Oh.”

“But…” Shu’s gaze wanders to the canopy above. “If we happen to pass by the museum, might as well give it a quick look, right?”

At that, Song’s eye twitches. He clearly planned this from the start. This culture nerd…

After parting from the thick forests, the trio trek through the famous Nameless Valley. Tides of puffy white clouds spill from the endless stretch of mountains flanking the paths. Occasionally, the trio would come across a portable tent made from animal skins, a rather common sight in popularly-used routes such as this one. With their superhuman agility, the trio spend one day on what most normal men would with five to arrive at the capital’s impressive stone walls.

“Woooah!” Rei widens his eyes at the majestic sight. “It’s as if the walls go on forever!”

“I know!” Shu exclaims excitedly. “Feng Cheng is such a wondrous city! So much history! It’s been way too long since I last came here.”

“Let’s just go already,” Song grumbles. “I wanna eat.”

Shu’s expression sours to that. “Oaf.”

The trio race downhill and head straight for the gates, a pitch black hole carved into the greyish-yellow wall made of bricks and stones, guarded by a three-storey watchtower above. The guards stationed by the gates let them in immediately, bowing deeply as they pass; after all, there isn’t a human in Hong Zhou that doesn’t recognise the Purgers’ uniform. The “saviours” of mankind. After being out in the wilderness for so long, the familiar sight of those outwardly-curved roofs gives Song a sense of assurance.

Goodbye stinky grass fields, hello soft beds, Song thinks gleefully to himself.

Several miles ahead, the trio encounters another set of walls, and past that, another. Within these enclosures, only military structures such as watchtowers, tents and giant catapults are seen stationed at intervals. According to Shu, the additional two layers were meant to serve as means to strengthen the defensibility of the city’s innermost gates. When they finally arrive at the city’s last set of walls, Song can already feel his stomach growling like how Rei would when he’s threatened.

Upon taking the first step past the huge, grandiose-looking red gates, the hustle and bustle of the lively city hits their senses in full force. Shopkeepers yelling over their shoddy-looking stands to promote their goods, people in ragged looking clothes bargaining against them. Tramps litter the alleyways, unwashed and unkempt, with the occasional well-dressed traveller tossing a few copper coins their way for personal karma.

“Vegetables! Get your fresh vegetables here!”

“The best mutton in the capital! Only five copper per catty!”

Even though the stone-tiled street is wide enough to fit five carriages side-by-side, Song can’t even see the other end of the street without a person blocking his view.

“Damn, that’s a lot of people…” Song grumbles. “I feel tired just looking at the street.”

“Can’t be helped. It’s morning, and this is the poorer side of the capital too so it’s only natural to be this crowded,” Shu replies.

They make their way through the streets of shoddy stands and shophouses. Even with the people recognising their uniform and doing their best to make way for them, they would still occasionally brush against someone. The odour of unwashed peasants is starting to make Song’s head spin, though he probably isn’t quite different from them right now.

“It’s as if nobody is worried about the war against the Seekers,” Song remarks, watching the peasants busy about with their lives. “Even though the Seekers have already claimed half the world.”

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“I’m not surprised. Feng Cheng is in the heart of human-controlled territory. It’s not an exaggeration to say that it’s the safest place in the world right now.” Shu nods a cart moving towards them in the distance, with a massive pile of freshly hunted game on it. “Also, Feng Cheng is the capital of Bu Lin, which is historically the wealthiest province of Hong Zhou. These people are probably way more concerned with the economy than the genocide of humanity happening tens of thousands of miles away.”

“But we’ve had lots of Seeker-related incidents happening deep within human territory lately,” Song reminds him. “Remember the one about the mining village? Where we found Rei?”

“I guess the people are just complacent.” Shu shrugs. “I mean, these incidents all occurred in the rural spots, with little to no defences. And the attacks are usually pretty small in scale. With all these defences like the walls surrounding Feng Cheng, it’s hard to imagine this city being in danger at all.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird though?” Rei asks. “How did these Seekers even appear so deep within human territory in the first place?”

“Everyone thinks it’s weird.” Shu sighs. “It doesn’t make sense. They come without a trace, with no discernible goals whatsoever, aside from the consumption of souls.” He then eyes at Rei. “Except for the time they kidnapped you. But even after all this time, nobody has figured out how they infiltrated us. Many believe there’s a greater force controlling these monsters. It’s the only explanation that makes sense, but we don’t have any proof of that yet.”

Song ruffles his own hair. “Ugh, this is too much for me to take in. All I asked was a simple question, and now we’re turning it into an academic essay…”

With Shu taking the lead, they eventually reach the furthest end of the district and arrive at a massive three-storey building― the Moonlight Crane, the most famous calligraphy museum in all of Hong Zhou.

“Look at that!” Shu clasps his hands and swoons, eyes glittery with awe. “Ohhh, how I missed this place!”

Rei takes in the view with his mouth open, his cloak trembling slightly from his tail’s excited wagging.

Song wears an expression of disinterest.

As the trio step into the museum, they are greeted by a hall with a massive flight of stairs in the centre, leading to the chambers on the upper floors. Large, sturdy screens made of wood fill the galleries of the ground floor, each with three pieces of calligraphy work attached to them. Some are filled purely with words, others depict gorgeous landscapes painted in black ink, with several lines of poetry elegantly written at the side. At this time of the day, most of the peasants are still busy with their jobs, so there are barely any people in the galleries. Those that are present are dressed in ornate robes, wealthy people with too much time and too little to do.

“Oh my god!” Shu drags Rei to one of the landscape paintings and starts swooning. “Look at this! The rugged texture of the mountains are so perfectly painted here! And those words! Ah, Zu Min! One of the greatest masters of the grass style writing!”

“Grass style writing? Where’s the grass?” Rei leans in closer for a better look. “It looks a little… messy?”

“YES, that carefree emotion is what I’m talking about! So you do understand our world’s culture!” Shu looks as if he’s about to explode from excitement. “Look how beautifully his words flow from one to the next, like the flow of a tranquil river in a secluded forest! Oh my… such fluid motions, such free-spirited personality… you can just feel his serenity when writing this piece…”

As Shu continues to chatter on about the calligrapher’s backstory, Rei sneaks a glance back at Song, who’s lifelessly staring at empty space like a corpse. Before he’s about to say something to Song, Shu drags him to the next isle.

“Look, look!” Shu points ahead. Two seven-word phrases, forming a couplet, line the massive sheet of rice paper they’re facing, each with an abstract meaning that eludes Song. “The wind blows at the horse tail making a thousand threads, the sun shines on the dragon scales making 10,000 golden spots. Ohhh… such nobility, such power in that second phrase, such poetry… can you feel the brilliant imagery gracing your mind?”

Rei nervously glances back at Song again. His facial muscles hasn’t budged one bit since he first stepped into the museum. The look of profound, undiluted boredom.

I hate culture, Song thinks grumpily.

“U-uhm… Song?” Rei begins, forcing a smile. “Do you appreciate uh, what’s it called... ah, ‘calligraphy’ too?”

“Huh?” Song says. “No. I don’t even understand what half of these things are saying.”

Shu rolls his eyes. “That’s because this oaf is the most uncultured being in all of Hong Zhou. And that’s ironic, because he’s a Purger.”

“Why ironic?” Rei asks.

“Because all Purgers are supposed to be the embodiment of human perfection. Strong, fast, skilled, but most important of all, talented in the arts.” Shu sighs. What boundless enthusiasm he once had seems to evaporate as he speaks. “Every Purger from the Palace is proficient at least one musical instrument, as well as calligraphy. Well, every Purger except for Song. He doesn’t play any instrument, doesn’t read, write, or do anything.”

“That’s just what Kiin wants you morons to do.” Song folds his arms. “So what if I’m uncultured? At least I’m not doing as that scum wants.”

“You’re so… ugh…” Shu groans. “Now look at what you’ve done. My mood is ruined.”

Song feels a pinprick of guilt for upsetting Shu, especially when he knows how excited Shu has been about this visit, but he couldn’t help it.

“Anyway, I didn’t bring you both here just to admire these works,” Shu says.

The both of them give Shu a curious look.

“Whenever I think about this whole ‘escape to another world’ idea, there is one writer that catches my mind.”

Before Shu can continue, a middle-aged man with a greyed beard and dressed in brown robes calls out to them. With a wide grin, he greets them with a fist against his palm, bowing deeply. It’s the curator of the museum.

“I wasn’t expecting the glorious warriors of the Emperor to pay me a visit today. And the renowned Demon Blade and Violet Dragon no less! I am humbled by your presence.”

“You guys have such cool nicknames,” Rei says enviously.

“And a magnet for excessive politeness too,” Song mutters.

“Pardon my rudeness,” the man says, bowing slightly. “My name is Zhong Yan Xin. I am graced by the presence of your guest too. Any friend of a Purger pair must be of benevolent origins as well.”

“You flatter us,” Shu says with a chuckle. “Just call me Shu, and my partner Song. This is Rei. The art pieces are breathtaking as always, but we’re here specifically for Shi Wei’s works.”

Oh, so now Shu shows his elegant side, Song remarks in his mind.

The man nods. “Ah, the fabled Demon Slayer from Jin An? The bearer of the Storm-bringing Sword?”

“These extravagant titles will be the end of me.” Song rolls his eyes.

Shu ignores his partner. “Yes, him. I heard he has a piece regarding the origins of his blade? Can you show it to me?”

“Of course! Anything for my honoured guests. Please, follow me.”

The curator leads the trio to the back of the museum, down a flight of stairs to an underground chamber lit by old lamps placed at intervals. Song has been to this museum with Shu many times over the years since Shu has always been such a culture geek, but he never knew that there was such a massive system beneath the museum. The rocky tunnels seem to stretch on forever. Surely Shu couldn’t have known that this place existed? When Song checks his partner’s face, his expression betrays no information. Rei on the other hand, looks as awed as a young child on his first excursion.

“So… why are we looking for this guy’s work again?” Song asks. “You said it’s about his sword, right? What does it have to do with anything?”

“The origins of his sword,” Shu says. “According to the legends, the sword he found was made of metals not from this world, with an unusual purple sheen. With the blade, he was bestowed extraordinary powers as well. The strength of an elephant, with the speed of a warhorse…”

Song raises his brows. “Like… the Chariot Arcana?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“But aren’t there like… a thousand fables and tales about mystical swords and powers? What makes this one so special?”

“It took me some time to realise something odd about the tale. The place and timing in which he found the sword...” Shu narrows his eyes. “It was in the city of He Zong, during the Year 173. According to records, that was a year after the Seekers invaded our realm, and He Zong was in the region where the monsters first appeared and took over.”

“So you mean…”

“The Demon Slayer, Shi Wei, might have known something that we don’t about the Seekers in our world. He found a weapon that was rumoured to not belong to this world, in a place that no humans had ever set foot on since the invasion.” Shu sighs. “Honestly, it’s just a wild guess to me, but it’s better than nothing.”

Rei whistles. “I’m glad to have Shu around. At least we have a lead now… sort of. Imagine what’d happen if Song is the only person I can count on.”

“Hey!”

At the end of the tunnel, they meet a large, circular structure embedded against the wall with carvings of swans on it. There are four panels on the strange vault, with the words North, East, South, West on top of their respective devices. The curator steps forward and begins fiddling with them one at a time, spinning the stone plate to get to the panels inaccessible to him due to the height. Eventually, a click sounds, and the strange, circular vault pushes forward slightly, before rolling into an opening within the wall on the left.

“Pardon my impudence, but it would seem that my glorious heroes looking for Shi Wei’s works are not just for mere leisure or enjoyment,” the curator says. “Is this… perhaps for some sort of mission?”

“You can say that.”

Within the vault, a final, massive chamber spreads before them. Deposit boxes line the walls. Cabinets made of bronze that seem to emit a strange glow in the dark tower before them, enough to serve as dim light sources themselves, forming massive isles at least two storeys high. The whole place looks like a giant maze; Song wonders how the curator even remembers where he places his collections in a place like this.

The curator grabs a ladder from the corner of the room. He then leads them to the far end of the chamber before taking a right turn. At the third isle, he stops, places the ladder against the giant cabinet and begins climbing.

“I will never understand your obsession with the arts,” Song mutters.

“And I will never understand your hatred for it,” Shu counters. “Hating on the arts just to rebel against Kiin? How petty can you get?”

“Come on, don’t fight…” Rei makes a puppy-like whimper.

As Song is about to assure Rei that these quarrels are normal between them, the curator screeches from above.

“W-what is it?” Shu calls out.

“T-the scrolls… Shi Wei’s works!” the curator cries out. “They’re all gone!”