299: Chapter 297 The Celestial Craftsmen

The skeleton floated quietly in Chaos, like a forgotten sculpture.

After returning to the flying boat, Shen Nian ordered the fleet to continue advancing.

The deeper they went into this Chaos, the denser the floating debris became, and their forms grew increasingly intact.

Some already showed clear architectural outlines—arches, pillars, and leaning towers—resembling a dismembered city scattered across Chaos.

Lin Yuan leaned against the porthole, practically pressing his face against it. "Senior, were these... were these once cities?"

Shen Nian looked at the wreckage and remained silent for a moment. "Perhaps.

But they might also have just been the most ordinary buildings of their era.

We know too little about this Chaos; any judgment could be wrong."

After the flying boat passed through a surge of grayish-white mist, the view ahead suddenly opened up.

The Chaos thinned out, revealing a relatively clear expanse of space.

In the center of this space floated a massive metallic planet—no, it wasn't a planet, but a sphere composed of countless delicate metallic components. It had a diameter of a thousand zhang, its surface covered in dense patterns that slowly rotated, emitting a warm radiance.

"Uncle Zhang, what did the detection Magical Artifact discover?" Shen Nian asked.

Uncle Zhang's voice came from the console, carrying a clear note of surprise: "Senior... there are extremely complex energy circuits inside that sphere.

This Disciple has never seen such a precise structure.

It doesn't look naturally formed; it seems more like... like it's man-made."

Shen Nian's hand paused slightly.

Man-made.

Deep within a realm of Chaos where no one had ever tread, among the wreckage of an era even older than the Tribunal, lay an exquisitely precise metallic sphere embedded with complex energy circuits.

It floated here, seemingly having hovered for countless years, waiting for someone to arrive.

"Maintain vigilance and approach slowly," Shen Nian ordered.

The three flying boats slowly advanced forward.

The closer they got to the metallic sphere, the clearer those flowing patterns became.

They were not decorative—Shen Nian could see them constantly changing, as if executing a program or reacting to the outside world.

When the fleet was only a thousand zhang from the sphere, the patterns on its surface suddenly stopped flowing.

Then, a voice rang directly in Shen Nian's mind—not through a transmission Formation, nor through sound vibrations, but as a pure transmission of consciousness, as if something were sending its thoughts directly into his mind.

"Outsiders, you do not belong here."

Shen Nian's breath hitched slightly.

He looked around, seeing no sign of any living form.

Only the metallic sphere floated quietly there, the patterns on its surface resuming their flow.

"Who are you?" Shen Nian responded in his heart.

The consciousness fell silent for a moment before speaking again: "We call ourselves... Tiangong.

Perhaps you may address us as the Tiangong Clan."

The Tiangong Clan.

Shen Nian silently repeated this unfamiliar name in his mind.

All the archives of the Investigation Department flashed rapidly through his mind—there was no record whatsoever of this name.

This was a civilization that had never appeared in any known history.

"What is this place?" Shen Nian continued to ask.

"This is the 'Land of Origin'.

The place where Chaos first solidified.

We have waited here for a very long time, waiting for outsiders like you to arrive."

Shen Nian's heart rate quickened.

The Land of Origin, the place where Chaos first solidified.

This was older than the Eternal Forbidden Zone, more ancient than Higher Space.

This was a fragment from the birth of the Universe, forgotten by time in a quiet corner, yet still existing in some way.

"Why are you here?" Shen Nian asked.

The consciousness fell silent once more, this time for much longer.

So long that Shen Nian thought it would not answer.

Then it spoke again, carrying an indescribable, complex emotion—resembling both confusion and nostalgia: "We have forgotten.

We do not know why we are here, nor do we know who we are.

We only remember one thing—we are waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"Waiting for someone to come and give us the answer."

The consciousness's voice carried a hint of weariness. "We have waited for a very long time.

So long that we cannot remember time itself.

So long that we almost forgot we were waiting.

But you have come.

You carry a mark familiar to us.

That mark is a part of our lost memories."

Shen Nian's hand paused slightly.

A familiar mark?

He looked down at himself—the qinglian sword, the green robes of the Guardian Academy, and the Sixteen-Color Power circulating within his body.

He did not know what on his person could make the Tiangong Clan feel a sense of familiarity.

He stepped out of the cabin door, floated in the Void Realm, and flew toward the metallic sphere.

The Disciples watched him nervously from inside the flying boat; some gripped their swords tightly, while others whispered Protective Incantations.

Shen Nian did not look back, continuing to fly forward.

When he was only a hundred zhang from the sphere, the patterns on its surface suddenly flared to Life.

Those flowing patterns detached from the sphere's surface, interweaving before him to form a figure condensed of light.

The figure stood three zhang tall, shaped like a standing humanoid, but devoid of facial features, consisting only of an outline.

Its body was composed of countless fine lines that constantly shifted, as though endless streams of data were flowing.

"A consciousness entity of the Tiangong Clan."

The voice rang out in Shen Nian's mind once again: "You may address me as 'The Artisan'."

Shen Nian floated in the Void Realm and bowed slightly to the figure of light. "Junior Shen Nian, from the Star Sea Alliance of the New Universe.

This Junior is leading Disciples to explore the Land of Origin and meant no offense."

The Artisan fell silent.

It seemed to be scrutinizing Shen Nian, or perhaps sensing something on his person.

After a moment, it spoke: "The mark on you... is 'Guardianship'.

You are a Guardian."

Shen Nian's hand paused slightly. "Senior knows of 'Guardianship'?"

The Artisan's voice held a trace of memory: "Long ago, before we forgot, we were also Guardians.

We guarded this Land of Origin, guarding the balance of Chaos.

But then something happened, and we forgot our mission.

We only remembered to wait, but not what we were waiting for."

Countless thoughts flashed through Shen Nian's mind.

The Tiangong Clan had also once been Guardians, guarding this Land of Origin.

Then something happened, and they forgot their mission.

This reminded him of the fall of the Tribunal, the collapse of The Designers, and the rise and fall of countless civilizations—every civilization lost its way at some point.

"Senior, what memories do you still retain?" Shen Nian asked.

The Artisan's light flickered slightly. "We retain the memories of 'Creation'.

We remember how to create, how to use the Origin Power within Chaos to build new structures.

That is our only remaining intact memory.

As for why we create, for what purpose we create, or what to do after creating—all of that, we have forgotten."

Gazing at that figure of light, an indescribable emotion surged in Shen Nian's heart.

A civilization that retained the ability to create yet forgot the meaning of Creation.

This reminded him of the Disciples of the Guardian Academy—they had learned sword techniques, Formations, and various methods of Guardianship, yet gradually forgot why they were learning them.

"Senior, this Junior can help you," Shen Nian said.

The Artisan's light flickered once more. "Help us?"

"Within this Junior's Star Sea Alliance, there is a group of young Disciples.

They too are searching for their purpose.

If Senior is willing, we can learn from each other.

The Disciples can teach you the meaning of Guardianship, and you can teach the Disciples the craft of Creation."

The Artisan remained silent for a long time.

Then, the figure of light nodded slightly. "Very well.

We accept your sincerity.

Please enter the 'Heart of Tiangong'—the sphere before your eyes.

Our core memory vault is located there; perhaps it can help you understand this Land of Origin."

Shen Nian turned and waved toward the direction of the flying boats.

The three flying boats slowly advanced toward the metallic sphere.

A passage opened on the sphere's surface, revealing countless crisscrossing metallic structures inside, resembling the interior of a precision instrument.

The Disciples stepped out of the flying boats, their eyes filled with marvel and awe.

"It's... so beautiful here," Lin Yuan's voice trembled slightly.

Looking at those crisscrossing metallic structures and the warm light flowing through them, Shen Nian felt an indescribable emotion surge within his heart.

They stood inside a forgotten civilization, in the most ancient space in the Universe, in a place that had waited for countless years.

And that was merely the beginning—within the Tiangong Clan's memory vault, there surely remained more hidden secrets about the Land of Origin, stories from the dawn of the Universe's Creation, and truths about those beings who had forgotten their own mission.