The syndyr calash rumbled along the packed-earth road for several minutes, its wooden wheels groaning softly beneath the weight of its passengers. The journey was a short one. Goryeong Fortress lay just north of Kyungsuk, and the terrain between them was relatively flat and well-trodden.
Like Zheng Fort before it, Goryeong was built as a statement — a monument to military discipline, its fortifications shaped by generations of watching the southern horizon for smoke. But where Zheng Fort had simply looked imposing, Goryeong looked outright unfriendly. Its cobblestone walls climbed like sheer cliff faces, easily thirty meters into a pale blue sky, the stone mottled with age and streaked dark with creeping moss. Watchtowers punched up along the perimeter at even intervals, wooden frames straining under the weight of armored sentries, and archers seemed posted on nearly every visible ledge, bows already strung.
An inspection team fell in alongside the calash as it rolled to a stop before the main gate, armor clinking with each step. Their captain — an older man, weathered, a scar cutting a pale line across his jaw — leaned in to look over the passengers. The moment his eyes landed on Yul, his whole posture snapped straighter, and he bowed low enough that sunlight flashed off the crown of his helmet.
"Sir Yul." Real respect colored the words. "We were told to expect two individuals summoned by the Shogun. These the two?" His gaze flicked to Vincent and Kei — quick, assessing, the look of a man who had spent years learning to size up threats at a glance.
"Correct. Please, let us through," Yul said.
The captain straightened and spun on his heel. "Make way! Make way!" His men scrambled to obey, hauling the heavy iron-bound gates open with a screech of metal dragging against stone.
The calash rolled through, and what waited on the other side stopped being a fortress and became a city. The skyline rose in graceful, layered tiers — whitewashed stone buildings and dark timber frames, their tiled roofs curling gently upward at the edges like they were reaching for the sky. Delicate bridges arched over calm canals, their railings carved with dragons and blossoms twisting together in painted color.
Pockets of green parkland broke up the stone and timber, trees casting soft, dappled shade over paths where people strolled without any particular hurry. Even the air felt different here — cleaner, sweeter, carrying the faint perfume of flowering shrubs and, somewhere in the distance, the quiet murmur of moving water. After everything they'd passed through to get here, it felt like stepping into an entirely different world.
"I know that look." Yul caught their expressions and allowed himself a small smile. "Goryeong kept its culture intact — the architecture, the canals, all of it. That's what sets it apart from the smaller towns you two have already seen." He nodded toward the window, taking in the sprawl beyond it. "This used to be the capital of the Sunshin Kingdom, you know. The Choi family — Yejin's line — has held this city for centuries. Even after the unification, they managed to preserve most of it."
"Yejin might've mentioned this before, but — are you actually blood-related to her?" Vincent asked. "If she said, it slipped right past me."
"Distant cousins," Yul said. "My family's the Zu Clan, originally out of the Honglung Empire, on the wealthier side of things back in the day. My father came from that line — served as a military officer stationed at Lingwen Fortress before he fell in battle. My mother was born here, in Goryeong. I kept my father's name, though, for whatever that's worth."
"That's kind of wild, how much you actually know about where you come from." Vincent laughed, a little self-deprecating. "I can't even remember my own parents. Heh."
Yul glanced over, surprised. "Really? How's that happen?"
"No idea. Just... gone. Lost it somewhere along the way, I guess."
Yul turned his attention to Kei next. "And you? Where do you hail from? Feel free to speak plainly with me."
"No family. Never knew them," Kei said, flat, offering nothing more.
"You two look like men who've carried more than your fair share of hardship." Yul tilted his head slightly, studying them both. "And yet here you are anyway, still out here fighting for other people. Remind me what your group's called again?"
"The Fabled Class," Vincent supplied.
"Right, that's it. I've always wondered what things are like out west. Sounds like your kingdoms don't get much chance to turn on each other, what with all those fiends to deal with first."
"Not exactly," Vincent said, shaking his head. "We work in the shadows, so we see the real picture over there. Sure, nobody's openly declaring war on their neighbors. But it's still constant — politics, trade routes, technology, all of it a battlefield in its own way. Spies, sabotage, quiet little betrayals — it all happens behind closed doors. Nobody wants to be the one who starts a war out in the open and eats the blame for it."
"I see. I appreciate the insight." Yul nodded slowly, taking it in. "Wouldn't have guessed any of that on my own. Out here, our conflicts are simpler — south against north, invader against defender. Kind of refreshing, honestly, hearing the rest of the world's got its own tangled mess going on too."
"Yeah, right. This world never runs out of problems." Vincent said.
A few minutes more brought them to the gates of the Choi Residence — a sprawling estate built from polished stone and dark timber, its outer walls carved with reliefs depicting old battles and ceremonies long past. The calash could not go any farther; the narrow bridge ahead was reserved for foot traffic only, so they climbed down and let the guards lead them the rest of the way toward the mansion where the Shogun made his home, boots clacking against cobblestone in tight, practiced rhythm.
Inside the grounds, everything went quiet. The air hung thick with the scent of lotus blossoms drifting off a nearby pond, and the only sounds were birdsong, unhurried and melodic, and the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a light breeze. A canal ran along the front of the palace gate, its water clear enough to see straight to the bottom, spanned by a curved bridge lacquered a deep, rich red. Their footsteps echoed softly against the wood as they crossed it, the bridge groaning faintly with every step.
Once inside, the Shogun's attendants greeted them formally, bowing low in flowing silk robes, and led them through a maze of corridors lined with painted screens and hanging scrolls. The air grew warmer as they walked deeper in, until they finally reached the Shogun's private chambers. He stood near an open window, sorting through a stack of documents, brow furrowed in concentration. Sunlight poured in around him, catching the silver threading in his dark robes and tracing the fine lines carved into the corners of his eyes.
"Your Highness, your guests have arrived," the attendant announced.
The Shogun looked up, and his expression eased into a warm smile. Yul bowed deeply; Kei and Vincent followed a half-beat behind.
"I'm glad to finally meet the two of you," the Shogun said.
"I'll leave you to it, then." Yul bowed once more and stepped back.
"Thank you, Yul."
The Shogun gestured them toward a low table of dark polished wood, inlaid with delicate patterns of mother-of-pearl. Attendants arrived shortly after with tea — the cups thin, almost translucent porcelain, painted with cranes caught mid-flight, the tea itself steaming with a fragrant, floral scent.
"First — my thanks for what you've done." The Shogun took a slow sip before continuing. "My daughter told me you eliminated the Fifth Commander of the Great Battalion. Remarkable, especially considering she only brought you into the fold the day before it happened." He set the cup down with a soft click against the wood. "I understand you belong to an organization called the Fabled Class. Correct?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Vincent said.
"Nothing troubling has come across my intelligence reports. Your organization carries no blacklist within our empire, which works in your favor. I see no reason we couldn't formalize something that benefits us both." He paused, and something shifted behind his eyes.
"There is one matter weighing on me, however." Another slow sip, unhurried, while Vincent and Kei sat still, waiting. "You remind me a great deal of a young man out of Westex. Reports from six years back describe someone who took down countless practitioners and soldiers both, and very nearly brought an entire kingdom to its knees. The more I looked into it, the more the two of you matched that description. So I'll ask plainly — was that you? I'd ask that you not lie to me."
Vincent held his gaze without flinching, shoulders squared, hands resting flat against his thighs. "Yes. That was me." Quiet, but steady, without a trace of hesitation in it. "I don't remember much of it now — lost that memory somewhere along the way — so I can't give you the whole account. But it was me."
The Shogun's expression softened, just barely, and he nodded once. "I appreciate the honesty. I won't pretend to know the full story of what happened there, and it isn't my place to judge you for it. My concern begins and ends with my empire." He studied Vincent a moment longer, more carefully this time. "You're known as the Fire Beast of Westex. A name that draws attention — and hunters, plenty of them. So tell me plainly: is there some split nature to you? A demon that takes hold of you now and then? I need this settled before anything formal moves forward. I don't hold absolute power here — I answer to my Emperor, same as any other man in this empire. Before I bring him this partnership my daughter's asked for, I need to be able to promise him that no betrayal, no incident tied to your name, will ever cost the lives of our people."
"You have my word, Your Highness. I'm fully in control of myself." Vincent didn't look away. "The Fabled Class isn't some rogue organization. We help people. We close the Gates of Abaddon and put down whatever crawls through them. Our purpose here is simple: find the Heavenly Crystals, and figure out why they're losing their strength so we can save the future generation from the threats of Abaddon."
The Shogun leaned back, fingers steepled beneath his chin, considering. "The Heavenly Crystals, hm. I've heard the name mentioned before, though it's never carried much weight for us. Our empire's rarely troubled by the Gates — our attention's always been fixed south, on the invaders."
"I understand that. But every year, the Gates open more often, appear in more places, with less warning. If we can't find what's driving that, I'm afraid it won't be long before the whole world's staring down a catastrophe — one where the South is the least of anyone's worries, next to fiends pouring in from another world entirely."
"Yes. Yejin's already walked me through that concern." The Shogun's gaze sharpened, focused now. "I understand the danger, and I understand it could reach us eventually too." He set his cup down fully. "So I'll trust your word. But understand this clearly: the moment you lose control of yourself and turn on my people, I won't hesitate to have you executed. Not for one second."
"Understood completely. Thank you, Your Highness," Vincent said, dipping his head.
"As for the Heavenly Crystals — Master Yoo would know far more than I do on that front. He's currently at Saeho Tower."
"If I may, Your Highness," Vincent said, "we were told our main objective was securing entry into the Shengyowon. We believe it may hold information on where the crystals actually are."
"The Shengyowon..." The Shogun's expression turned thoughtful, weighing something. "That falls under the Sheng Family's authority. I hold no real sway there myself, I'm afraid. What I can do is petition the Emperor to extend a formal invitation on your behalf during Fang Heian — provided you complete a couple of tasks for me first. But understand, neither the Emperor nor I hold true authority inside the Shengyowon. Even an imperial request could be turned away flatly by its Mistress, and there'd be little either of us could do about it."
"I understand. May I ask what these tasks would involve?" Vincent asked.
The Shogun's mouth curved into a slow, approving smile. "That's the spirit I was hoping for. I like the confidence in your eyes." He held up a finger. "First — travel to Saeho Tower and help patrol the region for a full month. Master Yoo will be there the whole time, and you're free to ask him anything that furthers your search." A second finger. "After that, within the following month, the Emperor is set to meet the King of Horris. I'll have you accompany my son, the Dae-Ryeong, to help secure the meeting grounds. Expect an attack from the South during it. It happens without fail, every single time. If either of you strikes down one of their commanders during that engagement, I'll personally award you both a gold medallion in recognition of your service, and move the request to the Shengyowon immediately, no delay. Your organization will be publicly recognized as our ally as well, and we'll lend our support to your operations going forward."
"That's more than generous. Thank you, Your Highness," Vincent said.
"You've more than earned the offer. I'll pass along what we've settled here to my daughter." He gestured toward the document already laid out on the table between them. "Please, seal this with your mark, and we'll make it official."
Vincent and Kei each leaned forward in turn, pressing ink-soaked thumbs to the parchment beside the Shogun's own seal. The ink sat cool and damp against their skin for a moment before they lifted their hands, leaving their prints stamped permanently into the treaty.
"Thank you both, again, for your service." The Shogun turned toward his attendants. "Bring in the feast — our guests have more than earned it. And send word for Yul to rejoin us at the table."
The attendants filed back in bearing trays of food — steaming bowls of rice, fish glazed until it shone, pickled vegetables, fragrant soups that filled the room with warmth.
Yul returned soon after, taking his seat with a grateful nod, and the four of them settled in together, the clink of chopsticks and easy conversation filling the chamber as afternoon light slanted gold through the windows.