Twilight bled across the Western Desolation in long, bruised ribbons of violet and rust.
Lu Chen walked up the stone ramp, emerging from the underground vault onto the scorched floor of the oasis crater.
The desert wind struck his bare chest, howling with dry, bitter-salt ferocity.
On his right shoulder, the forty-two-pound Heaven-Shattering Celestial Cleaver rested motionless.
Along its five-foot length, the deep black glass Nether-Basalt spine absorbed the dying daylight. Meanwhile, the Furnace Brass cheeks glowed with a dull, amber warmth.
The eight-hundred-degree nonstop heat edge hissed against the desert breeze, leaving a faint trail of pale ozone and shimmering heat mirages in his wake.
Behind him, Blacksmith An Ni trudged up the ramp.
Her heavy forging apron was slung over one shoulder, her unlit iron-stem pipe clamped firmly between her back teeth.
