The Saltwind Desert wasn't named for the sand. It was named for the wind. A cruel, relentless gale that bit at exposed skin, stung eyes until they wept, and left a taste like old, salty broth lingering on your tongue, even hours after you'd last swallowed.
Hwan Do spat for the fourth time in as many minutes, wincing. "Ugh! I swear my tongue's going to pickle itself."
"Then stop opening your mouth," Seo Rin replied flatly, her scarf already wrapped tight enough to muffle her words against the incessant roar of the wind.
"Easy for you to say. You're not —" he spluttered, sand flying from his lips "— full of sand!"
Zhu Bao, however, trotted along with an almost blissful air, completely unfazed. "Mmm... seasoning," he mumbled, licking his snout with relish. "This wind just makes everything taste better."
Hwan Do stared at him, horrified. "Seasoning? This is human suffering, courtesy of this brutal wind!"
"You just don't appreciate nature's marinades," Zhu Bao retorted, quite serious.
Seo Rin let out a long, suffering sigh that was nearly stolen by the wind. "Both of you. Quiet. If we draw attention, the desert scavengers will find us before we find the Nine-Star Spoon."
By midday, the desert had already tried its best to dissuade them. They'd passed two collapsed waystations, mere skeletons in the sand, and a half-buried wagon that looked like a long-forgotten tomb. The horizon shimmered, a distorted, wavy mirror reflecting the unforgiving heat. The map from Long Li, already looking ancient and brittle, showed a dotted line leading to a spot marked Shifting Dune Hollow.
"Looks close," Hwan Do offered hopefully, squinting at the parchment.
"It's never close," Seo Rin shot back, not even bothering to glance. "The dunes shift constantly. You could walk for a day and find yourself back where you started."
Zhu Bao snorted, a surprisingly loud sound. "Not if you know how to persuade the dunes."
"...The what now?" Hwan Do asked, already dreading the answer.
The pig tapped his small pack proudly. "Salted melon seeds. Scatter a handful, and the dunes politely move out of your way."
Seo Rin didn't even turn her head. "That's not how sand works."
"It's how I work," Zhu Bao said, puffing out his chest.
As late afternoon bled into evening, casting long, distorted shadows across the endless landscape, the ground began to ripple. Not like wind over sand, but like something moving beneath it.
Hwan Do froze, every hair on his body standing on end. "Uh... sand's not supposed to do that, right?"
A low, dry hiss rose from directly beneath their feet. Then, with a sound like tearing fabric, the sand split open. Out crawled something that resembled a centipede... if a centipede was the size of a warhorse, and its mandibles gleamed like freshly honed blades, sharp enough to shear steel.
"Desert centipedes," Seo Rin muttered, her sword already a silver blur in her hand. "They like warm-blooded prey."
"Good thing Zhu Bao's not warm-blooded," Hwan Do whispered, instinctively ducking behind the pig.
Zhu Bao smacked him with his frying pan. "I am warm-blooded! And delicious!"
Two more monstrous centipedes erupted from the dunes, flanking them. Hwan Do barely dodged as one's tail lashed out, showering him with coarse sand. Seo Rin moved with ruthless efficiency, her blade cutting cleanly through the first attacker, its segmented body thrashing wildly before sinking back into the hungry dune. Hwan Do, in a chaotic flurry of panic, managed to blind another with a handful of sand and an accidental frying-pan swing when Zhu Bao tripped over his own feet.
When the last one finally skittered away, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, the only sound was their ragged panting.
"That's it," Hwan Do gasped, wiping sand from his face, "I'm adding 'centipede fighting' to my resume."
"You don't have a resume," Seo Rin pointed out, sheathing her sword with a soft click.
"Exactly," Hwan Do said, puffing out his chest. "This is my first achievement."
As the sun set, the sky turned orange and purple, they finally saw Shifting Dune Hollow. It was a massive, ancient crater, where the wind roared like a trapped ocean. And there, in its very center, a faint glimmer of something metallic winked beneath the sand, catching the last dying light.
"The Spoon's here," Seo Rin murmured, her voice tight with anticipation.
Zhu Bao's eyes shone with an almost unnatural light. "I can smell it."
Hwan Do squinted. "You can smell metal?"
"I can smell destiny," Zhu Bao declared, sniffing the air dramatically. "It smells like roasted chestnuts."
Before they could begin their descent, the wind shifted, carrying with it a new scent—a faint, unsettling aroma of broth.
Elsewhere…
Far, far away, in a cavern lit by the flickering, greasy light of a hundred cooking fires and thick steam, the Heavenly Butcher stirred his colossal cauldron. Strange, unsettling shapes floated in the dark broth: bleached bones, withered petals, and shadows that twisted like trapped souls.
A swirl formed on the surface, resolving into a vague, shimmering image: three small figures, trudging across a vast, endless desert.
The Butcher's lips curved into a slow, chilling smile. "They come for the Spoon... good."
He reached into the bubbling pot, his hand emerging with a single, perfectly formed dumpling. It pulsed faintly, like a tiny heartbeat, before melting away into nothing between his fingers.
"When they arrive," he whispered, his voice a dry rasp, "I will serve them something they can never digest."
The broth in the cauldron boiled harder, a furious, rolling churn. Outside, the desert wind around Shifting Dune Hollow howled as if it, too, had heard his promise, and shrieked in warning.