The merchant collapsed forward in a bow, sweating instantly.

"Forgive me, honored Sword Cultivator. I did not know you possessed such skill. The price is fair at a thousand mid grade stones. Please accept it."

Lin Mu nodded once, then passed the stones over without haggling further. A thousand mid grade immortal stones were meaningless to him.

The merchant scrambled to pack up the stone, nodding furiously and thanking him for his generosity while desperately avoiding further eye contact.

Lin Mu sheathed the sword and tucked it into his ring.

Little Shrubby hopped closer, narrowing his eyes. "Why did you buy that sword? It is very weak."

The twins poked their heads out, studying Lin Mu curiously. "It is dull. And not shiny."

Lin Mu merely stepped away from the stall and signaled for them to follow.

He did not answer their question.

Not yet.

Because the true significance of what he had found had not fully unraveled.

He walked down the street quietly, the beasts following behind him, still confused.

And behind them, the merchant let out a shaky sigh of relief, completely unaware that he had just sold something infinitely more intresting than he could ever understand.

Lin Mu continued onward.

And the moment he turned the corner, he finally exhaled softly.

Now he needed to think.

Now he needed answers.

The Dwarven initiation sword was in his ring.

And nothing about this was ordinary.

Lin Mu walked in silence for several minutes, weaving through the crowded market streets until the noise finally began to fade behind him. Little Shrubby sat perched on his shoulder, ears twitching, while the twins peeked out of his sleeves, still confused why their master had suddenly grown quiet.

They turned the corner into a narrow alley that was deserted. Only a few cracked stone tiles lay scattered across the ground, half covered by shadows cast from the tall buildings on both sides.

Lin Mu stopped.

He extended his hand and summoned the unassuming sword from his ring.

Little Shrubby tilted his head. "Master, why did you buy that sword? It is not strong. It is not special. It does not smell interesting either."

The twins nodded in synch. "It is plain. Very plain."

Lin Mu slowly unsheathed it.

The sound was soft, not sharp like his usual blades. The sword itself was truly plain, barely considered decent among immortal weapons. Yet the moment Lin Mu held it under the dim light of the alley, something faint stirred within his sword heart.

A whisper of familiarity. A breath of déjà vu.

He held the sword horizontally and spoke.

"It may look random. But its maker is not random."

Little Shrubby blinked. "Because it is dwarven?"

Lin Mu shook his head. "Not just that."

The beasts leaned closer, sensing Lin Mu's seriousness.

Lin Mu gripped the hilt and twisted. With a firm pull, he slid the handle off the tang of the sword. Most cultivators would not bother removing a hilt, but Lin Mu had forged and repaired enough blades to know exactly where to look.

And there, engraved into the metal beneath the handle, was a single character.

A single word that made Lin Mu's breath hitch for a moment.

Jing.

His voice was barely a whisper. "Jing…"

Little Shrubby's eyes widened. "That is the same as the Jing Clan's name in the Xiaofan world. Jing Wei. Jing Luo. Duan Ke. That Jing Clan."

Lin Mu nodded slowly, eyes still fixed on the character.

"How could it be here…" he muttered.

His mind raced. Countless memories flashed through him. Jing Luo guiding him through forging techniques and sparring with him. Duan Ke smiling lightly despite exhaustion. Jing Wei working on complex arrays and forges. The heat, the sparks, the sound of metal striking metal. Then his own first sword, kept in the dusty old shop.

His first proper weapon.

His first true ally in swordsmanship.

Lin Mu closed his eyes for a moment. He could still imagine Jing Wei's calm and unhurried manner as guided him about some Formations. Before he left Xiaofan world Jing Wei had already been an Immortal Ascension realm cultivator. Someone with potential strong enough to ascend.

'Could Jing Wei have risen to the Immortal Realm?'

'Could he be alive here?'

Lin Mu opened his eyes again and looked at Little Shrubby.

"Can you check for familiar scents?" he asked.

Little Shrubby obediently leaned forward and sniffed the sword, following the grains of metal from hilt to tip.

After several moments he pulled back.

"No familiar scent at all. Only the scent of the street stall cultivator, and a few others who touched it recently. Nothing like Jing Wei or the Jing Clan."

Lin Mu sighed. "It has been far too long. Any scent would have faded. I suppose I should not expect that much."

But the mystery only deepened.

The signature on the blade had not faded. The forging style matched something Lin Mu had not seen in a very long time.

And most puzzling of all was the combination.

The dwarven forging mark on the base of the blade.The Jing clan mark hidden on the tang.

Two completely unrelated worlds. Two completely unrelated forging traditions.

Yet one sword held both.

Lin Mu frowned. "This sword was made using dwarven forging techniques. I saw many similar weapons when I met the Rune Dwarves. They told me these are Dwarven initiation swords. Young dwarves forge them to prove they meet the skill requirements of their clan."

He tapped the metal lightly. "This blade is one of those."

The twins blinked. "But then how can it also have the Jing Clan mark?"

Lin Mu remained silent for a long moment.

His mind thought of all the possibilities.

Maybe the handle had been replaced.Maybe someone engraved the Jing mark later.

Maybe it was just another person with the same surname.

Maybe it was a coincidence.

But no.

Lin Mu ran his fingers along the metal. His sword intent pulsed. And he knew.

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