Tower of Heaven

Sylvanus had asked Artemia to give them some privacy.

Due to the nature of her artifact, she couldn't be too far away, but she was understanding enough to step far enough away for a sound barrier to be enacted.

With some privacy around them, Sylvanus asked the question he couldn't ask last time.

"Are you that man's successor?"

He didn't waste a single moment. It had been gnawing at him for far too long. Now that he had an opportunity to ask this question, he refused to let it go.

"Tell me honestly. If you are not, then fine. I will let you go without another word. But if you are truly related to that man in any way, then please, please tell me."

The tone of his voice was filled with desperation.
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Was the whole tower filled with this kind of desperation?

Atlas saw it in the eyes of so many people, and in this life, he oddly found it hard to reject such people.

The emotion of desperation…

'I have felt it before. I have felt it far too many times.'

He knew it was why he sympathized with them.

And in Sylvanus' case, when the person he was so desperately seeking was Atlas himself, what was he supposed to say?

"Why are you so curious about it?" He asked.

"Because that man was a great friend of mine. That man is someone who was betrayed by fate itself. If there is any news of him, then I must know it."

"..."

Atlas didn't like those words. They were foreboding when related back to his missing memories.

Curiosity overcame cowardice in the end. Atlas had to entertain the conversation.

"...you could say that I am related to the man you speak of, but that is the extent of it. I'm not someone who can answer the questions you may have."

It wasn't the response that Sylvanus was looking for.

"Did you…find a legacy?" He asked hesitantly.

Atlas looked at him for a second before responding.

"Something like that."

Sylvanus sighed deeply.

"As I thought, it was really so."

It was undeniable. No more proof was needed after Atlas said the keyword that only the previous Heavenly Emperor could have known.

And for someone to appear with his knowledge so many millennia later, there could only be one answer.

"He truly died."

To Atlas' surprise, it was Sylvanus' first time gaining this confirmation. Despite hearing rumors, he had never been able to confirm whether they were truths or lies.

"You know, I used to be more than just a king in name. I ruled the spirits, holding a position that allowed me to interact with Immortals, Gods, and Demons freely. However, I somehow found myself spending most of my time in the shabby little Mortal Realm," he said.

His eyes were trained on the floor. He was talking more to the air than anyone else, but as someone presumed to be the Heavenly Emperor's successor, Atlas had the right to hear his words.

"There was a man there that I knew well. He was one of my only true friends in this world and someone I could call my brother. I really did enjoy the times we spent together, but in the grand scheme of things, they were short-lived."

"I met Alaric about two thousand years before I heard the news. I made a contract with him thinking that it wouldn't be anything much, but that sly bastard tricked me. He essentially turned me into a slave that was forced to serve his clan."

Sylvanus chuckled a little.

"Don't get me wrong. They treat me well. Though I like to nag her, I truly do not mind assisting Artemia on her journey. Even the work I was given before this was entertaining to say the least."

"Only, because the Tatsuya Clan was based in the Immortal Realms, I was unable to see my old friend."

His expression crumpled, his eyes falling even further as he failed to maintain composure.

"I never thought that stupid conversation we had about liquors would be our last time ever speaking."

Atlas' heart thumped strangely. He wanted to tell his old friend that he was back in this world and that he understood everything, but he couldn't.

He couldn't say anything. He couldn't tell anyone he had reincarnated. Not yet.

He was forced to stand there and listen to his old friend mourn him. There was nothing more he could do.

"There wasn't any news about it," Sylvanus said.

"He was the ruler of the Mortal Realm, but for some odd reason, there was no news about what happened to him. I heard that he died. I heard that there was some kind of grand scene. They said that he was acting in the name of justice to protect the realm, but I don't buy it."

"He died. No, he was killed. Someone killed him, and I have no way of ever knowing who."

Atlas could hardly speak.

He didn't die naturally, but was killed? He didn't die in cultivation, but was killed?

The world he lived in was one that he brought peace to. Who could have possibly killed him?

"...why?" He asked, his voice raspy and broken.

Why was Sylvanus never able to find out who the culprit was? Why did he give up hope?

"Because my friend and I met during a period where neither of us could truly become brothers. Because of our positions, we were forced to withhold information from each other. I never truly knew about what kind of life he lived or even what kind of people he knew. Still, we were able to become brothers. Magnificent, isn't it?"

To Sylvanus, everything he was saying was pointless. Nothing could be done about the situation.

"After all, the Heavenly Emperor has been erased from history entirely. Someone with great power ensured that his name would never spread. In this world, perhaps I am one of the few who still remember his name."

Atlas' search for answers was doomed from the start, because there was no information about his past left in this world.

'No, that is incorrect.'

There was information inaccessible to Sylvanus, information that existed only in his mind and in the Great Dao itself.

That information could still be discovered as long as Atlas worked hard enough.

And now that Sylvanus had revealed so much, there was even more reason for Atlas to continue climbing the Tower.

He was murdered in his past life and involved in a conspiracy that required his information to be erased from the world. That was not something simple at all.

He didn't get everything he wanted from the conversation. He was certainly left with more questions than answers.

However, he was also filled to the brim with a desire to grow.

Previously, there wasn't even a single clue. There wasn't a single idea or even fragment of an idea that could lead Atlas towards answers.

That wasn't the case anymore, was it?

[Perfect Adaptability has activated.]

The fact that he was murdered was concerning, but it was still a matter of the past. Even the question of whether or not he could get revenge could wait until he knew who the murderer was.

For now, everything he was doing was great. He was growing steadily and expanding his repertoire. There was no need to worry.

'I'm truly sorry, Sylvanus, but you'll have to wait a little longer.'

In due time, he could tell his old friend that he was back.

Until then, Atlas would use the status of a young cultivator and Ascender to his advantage and gain everything he possibly could.

This life would be different.

No matter what kind of schemes or conspiracies came at him, he would not falter and he would not fall.

This was a promise made between him and the Heavens themselves.