Forty Millenniums of Cultivation Chapter 1: Artifact Graveyard

The progression of human society has been driven by the relentless forces of Cultivation. In ages past, magical tools were rare luxuries, yet today, artifacts once reserved for powerful Cultivators have permeated every home. They have transformed into daily essentials, indispensable for everything from education and employment to travel and domestic life.

While these advancements simplified existence, they also generated an immense volume of refuse—discarded artifact components and scrap metal.

Such waste typically retains lingering essence energy, making it a prime source of radiation. Furthermore, the intricate glyph arrays that power these devices are notoriously unstable and prone to detonation. If left to rot, this magical debris could inflict catastrophic environmental harm.

To combat this, "Special Waste Treatment Plants" were established on the outskirts of every federal metropolis to manage the fallout of progress.

Plant No. 23 sits on the southern fringes of "Floating Spear," a prominent Federal Cultivation City.

Beneath a murky, amber sky, a violet, toxic marsh releases a pungent odor. A jagged ridge of metallic shards rises from the sludge, resembling the skeletal remains of a prehistoric beast. Shards of shattered flying swords are strewn across the peak. Nearby, a corroded crystal golem sits motionless; the light in its hollow sockets has long since faded, signaling the death of its spirit fire. The only sign of life is an essence-eating beetle peeking out from the golem's skull, warily surveying the treacherous "Artifact Graveyard."

“BOOM!”

In a neighboring heap of debris, the glyph array of a junked artifact finally gave way. The sudden release of pent-up essence energy triggered a blast that launched half the mound into the air.

A rain of metal components cascaded through the sky like falling petals, scattering in every direction. This explosion sparked a series of chain reactions in the nearby piles. Looking upward, the atmosphere was choked with billowing dust and smoke, resembling a chaotic dance of spirits obscuring the sun.

In such a place, life seemed impossible. Only the hardiest insects and vermin could find a sanctuary here.

And yet...

Li Yao remained motionless, hidden behind a mountain of junk. He licked his parched, cracked lips, his dusty yellow windbreaker allowing him to vanish into the wasteland.

He glanced toward the rising mushroom cloud, his youthful eyes remaining clear and devoid of any emotional turbulence.

As metal debris and dirt rained down upon his hiding spot, he burrowed deeper into the trash. Simultaneously, he pulled a pair of goggles over his face.

“It’s time!”

When the essence watch on his wrist began to thrum, a spark of excitement lit up the youth's face, and a cunning smile touched his lips.

It was 3:52:38 pm—the scheduled time for the daily waste drop. For "salvagers" like Li Yao, this was the start of the party.

The essence watch he wore was an Elite Hunter Model, manufactured three years prior by the prestigious ”Zephyr Guild”. He had scavenged it from a scrap heap and spent two grueling months bringing it back to life.

Beyond timekeeping, it possessed a specialized function: it could detect and record specific vibrational signatures. The device would alert the wearer whenever a matching frequency was detected nearby.

Originally, this feature was designed to warn hunters of approaching high-level Fiend Beasts.

However, Li Yao had recalibrated the device to recognize the specific signature of incoming garbage freighters.

A faint buzzing soon reached his ears, and a cluster of dark specks emerged on the northern horizon.

The sky was still thick with the haze of recent explosions, making it nearly impossible to distinguish the incoming ships from the swirling soot.

Li Yao wrinkled his nose and tapped a glyph on the side of his eyewear. With a soft "swoosh," the lenses were bathed in a crimson glow.

Through this thermal red filter, the rounded hulls of the garbage ships became visible through the smog.

The essence watch’s tracking system allowed him to lock onto the specific vibration of a single vessel.

“Garbage Ship No. 1327, you’re the one!”

Li Yao had spent the first decade of his life in the “Artifact Graveyard.” He knew this wasteland and the ships that serviced it as well as he knew his own hands. Ship No. 1327 was tasked with clearing the Upper East Side of Floating Spear’s Inner City.

The Upper East Side was the pinnacle of wealth, home to many powerful Cultivators. The items they threw away were the most valuable in the city.

Many of these artifacts were perfectly functional, discarded by the elite simply because they were outdated or replaced by the newest models.

To Li Yao, this wasn't a waste hauler; it was a floating treasure chest filled with gold!

“Swoosh!”

Power surged through Li Yao’s legs. He launched himself forward like a projectile, sprinting through the trash heaps and diving into the smoke toward the trajectory of Ship No. 1327.

Unstable mounds of debris threatened to bury him, and the toxic swamp bubbled beneath his feet, yet Li Yao moved with the agility of a forest ape. He used the piles as springboards, covering dozens of meters in a single bound. His fluid, effortless movements through the chaos were like flowing water.

“Li Yao, you brat! You’re trying to steal our haul again!”

Suddenly, a group of figures emerged from behind the surrounding mounds. They were dressed much like Li Yao, though they lacked his high-tech goggles and essence watch.

Armed with metal rods and shovels, the group advanced with hostile intent.

Like Li Yao, they were salvagers who scraped a living from "Plant No. 23."

Competition followed profit. A discarded artifact might be worthless to a high-level Cultivator, but for those at the bottom of society, it was a lifeline. Because Li Yao was the most skilled scavenger in the Graveyard, he was naturally the biggest target for his rivals.

Li Yao wasn't interested in making friends. With a sharp laugh, he twisted his torso with sudden force. He pivoted ninety degrees mid-stride, veering away from the scowling, heavyset youth leading the pack. Seizing the moment, he planted a foot firmly on the fat youth’s face, using the impact to propel himself another forty meters away.

“Fatty Leung, we’re all just trying to eat! Speed is the name of the game! Maybe you should go on a diet!”

The fat youth’s face bore a red boot print, his nose nearly flattened. Trembling with rage, he ordered his crew to give chase, and they plunged into the dust-filled zone.

The area was highly volatile following the earlier blast. With the garbage mountains on the verge of collapse, even the ruthless Fatty Leung and his gang were forced to slow down, watching in frustration as Li Yao maintained his breakneck pace.

Fatty Leung spat on the ground in disgust.

“That bastard! He really does value coins more than his own life! If the heavens are just, a bolt of lightning will strike him down...”

As if on cue, a nearby heap of trash detonated. A massive wave of metal parts and broken machinery came crashing down toward Li Yao!

“It actually happened!” Fatty Leung and his crew stood frozen in shock.

Suddenly, a shout cut through the haze: “Small Black, save me!”

A streak of darkness, blacker than the night, shot forward like a bolt of lightning, slicing through the falling metal. It was a rusted, chipped, and entirely black flying sword, featuring a large handguard shaped like two dark wings. Like a man clinging to a life raft, Li Yao grabbed the sword. He curled his body around the blade as it soared into the sky.

Above, the massive silhouettes of the garbage ships appeared. Each vessel was hundreds of meters long, resembling the legendary world-bearing turtles. Their hulls were covered in thousands of densely packed glyphs that glowed with five-colored essence, allowing these ten-thousand-ton giants to defy gravity.

“Crash!”

The belly hatches of the "giant turtles" slid open, releasing a torrential rain of scrap and artifacts that hammered the ground below.

The essence energy in the area became violently turbulent, creating a deadly environment.

Even the massive ships were tossed about by the energy waves. To avoid damage, they struggled to maintain distance from one another amidst the turbulence.

Fatty Leung’s group retreated, terrified of being crushed by the atmospheric upheaval.

Li Yao, still clinging to his black flying sword, navigated the chaotic essence waves. Though he looked battered, he moved with the fluid grace of a mudfish.

He didn't dare fight the energy storms head-on. Instead, he relied on his decade of experience to find the "dead zones" where the waves canceled each other out, allowing him to get as close as possible to the fresh deposits. The early bird gets the worm, after all.

Finally—

After ten minutes of unloading, the ships let out a low groan and turned to begin their slow journey home. The dust began to settle.

When Fatty Leung finally reached the center of the drop zone, he found Li Yao already perched comfortably atop a fresh mountain of scrap, wearing a wide grin.

“Dammit!” Fatty Leung’s face twitched with anger, though his mind was racing.

Li Yao had been tactical; he hadn't claimed the largest pile or the one that looked the most promising.

Dozens of other mounds filled with valuable artifacts remained untouched.

But they weren't the only scavengers in the area...

If Fatty Leung wasted time fighting Li Yao, other groups would swoop in and strip the remaining piles bare.

Other salvagers were already appearing on the horizon, their shouts of triumph echoing as they discovered hidden gems.

Furthermore...

Fatty Leung knew that Li Yao was a student at the Second Affiliated High School of the renowned Crimson Nimbus Guild.

The Crimson Nimbus Guild was a powerhouse Sect in the southern Federation, home to many formidable experts.

Even if Li Yao hadn't mastered their top-tier techniques, he was no pushover. A weakling wouldn't have survived ten years in the Graveyard to earn the nickname “Vulture!”

But Fatty Leung couldn't just walk away; his pride—and his flattened nose—demanded satisfaction.

As he hesitated, a gust of wind blew something his way. He caught it instinctively and felt the cold touch of metal. It was a fist-sized, discarded crystal processor.

Li Yao chuckled. “Fatty Leung, we’re all just making a living. I only took that 'Starlight' CPU from you once; it's not like I killed your kin. Why the grudge? Look, I just found this ‘Brave Dragon-17’ CPU from the Viridian Dragon Guild. It's a top-tier model, capable of processing 5,000 telepathic thoughts per second. Even though it's burnt out, it’s worth at least three or four thousand bucks. Consider it a peace offering. Are we square?”

“You...” Fatty Leung was caught off guard by the gesture. He scratched his cheek, looking skeptical.

“Hey! Look over there. Wild Wolf’s crew is coming. They don't work alone. They’ll strip every one of these piles until there isn't a single screw left for you!” Li Yao pointed urgently toward the west.

Fatty Leung’s expression shifted. He squinted at the horizon, then made his choice. He gave Li Yao a thumbs up and grunted, “Fine, kid, you’ve got guts! Let’s get this stuff moved!”

The scavengers fanned out, rushing to claim the various mounds of junk.

“Whew….”

Li Yao slumped onto the trash, sweat pouring down his face. His smile vanished, replaced by a look of mock agony as he stood up.

“You fat idiot! I worked hard for that Brave Dragon-17, and I had to just give it away!”

“Just wait. You think you can just take from 'Vulture' Li Yao? One day, I'll make you cough up everything you've taken from me, with heavy interest! I'll show you exactly why they say I value money more than my life!”

“No time to waste. I have to move. Wild Wolf’s Gang are way more vicious than Fatty Leung!”

Li Yao pushed his goggles down to his neck, his eyes gleaming with renewed focus. Licking his lips, he dove back into the freshly delivered mountain of treasures!