Legends were dangerous in the Ascendant Grounds.
Not because they were false—but because they were incomplete.
Chen Yuan moved carefully through fractured terrain, the air growing heavier the deeper he went. The mist here carried memory. Ruins half-buried beneath moss and stone whispered of empires that had reached too high and collapsed inward.
Somewhere below, The Conquest waited.
But that knowledge alone was useless.
Chen Yuan stopped at the edge of a stone platform carved with symbols far older than the Inner Court. Ahead lay a cluster of structures reinforced by formation arrays—not defensive, but preservative.
Scholars.
Not cultivators.
This was the School of Archeology.
A neutral faction tolerated by most sects, not because they were strong, but because they remembered what everyone else preferred to forget.
Chen Yuan approached openly.
An old array flickered, scanned him, then parted.
Inside, the atmosphere changed.
No bloodlust.
No challenge.
Scrolls floated through the air, suspended by gentle qi. Stone tablets were arranged in careful order. Students in plain robes debated quietly, their voices hushed out of respect rather than fear.
Chen Yuan exhaled.
This place felt… fragile.
And stubborn.
He stopped a passing researcher. "I'm looking for information on a sword."
The man paled.
"…Which one?"
"The Conquest."
Silence.
Several nearby scholars froze.
The researcher swallowed. "Follow me."
Lu Fu was not what Chen Yuan expected.
Young—far too young to be the leading specialist on a legendary weapon. His robes were worn, ink-stained, and his hair was tied carelessly behind his head. Scrolls and broken artifacts cluttered the chamber he worked in, the walls covered in murals depicting armies and banners.
At the center stood a massive stone relief.
A sword planted in the earth.
Countless bodies around it.
Lu Fu didn't look up when Chen Yuan entered.
"If you're here to ask where it is," Lu Fu said calmly, "you won't like the answer."
Chen Yuan studied the relief. "Then tell me why everyone who sought it failed."
Lu Fu finally turned.
His eyes were sharp—too sharp for a scholar.
"The Conquest was not forged," he said. "It was fed."
He gestured to the murals.
"It belonged to the Heavenfall Empire. They ruled half the Ascendant Grounds through endless war. Every victory strengthened the blade. Every defeat demanded more blood."
Chen Yuan frowned. "And they fell?"
Lu Fu nodded. "Because the sword does not end wars. It extends them."
He pointed to the last mural.
The empire turned inward.
Generals fought emperors. Brothers killed brothers.
The sword remained.
"The Conquest resides where the empire died," Lu Fu continued. "In a restricted depth where resentment has never dispersed."
Chen Yuan's heart sank. "You know where."
"I know how to reach it," Lu Fu corrected. "Not where. The place moves. The sword reshapes its surroundings."
Chen Yuan felt the system stir.
Historical Correlation Confirmed
Lu Fu studied Chen Yuan carefully. "Why do you want it?"
Chen Yuan did not answer immediately.
"…Because I need something that won't betray me for ambition."
Lu Fu laughed softly. "Then you've chosen the worst weapon imaginable."
He turned back to his scrolls.
"But," he added, "if you still want to try—I'll tell you what everyone else missed."
Chen Yuan met his gaze.
"I'm listening."