Herta's automaton instinctively swallowed a non-existent gulp, suppressing the shock in her chest.
Then she forced herself to think calmly.
No—this had to be an exception. Conceptual power was far too rare; it couldn't possibly be something every child could wield.
Most likely, that boy's elders were important figures in the Luofu, and the sword he carried was a treasured heirloom passed down through generations.
But… if the weapon truly possessed such strength, how had the fight dragged on this long?
At that thought, Herta decided to keep probing for information.
"What about the girl? How did she block an attack that can 'sever all things'?"
Even without studying the weapon firsthand, she could reason it out. To withstand conceptual power, one either needed overwhelming force—crushing it through sheer might—or a matching concept to counterbalance it.
If she could witness not one but two artifacts of such magnitude, it would be like rain after a long drought.
Her Simulated Universe research had hit a bottleneck recently; if she could decipher the nature of conceptual power, it could propel her work forward by an entire epoch.
Just imagining it made her automaton's energy core heat up dangerously.
Herta was indifferent toward most things—but this struck her directly at the heart of her obsession.
"Heh, that girl, huh?" Guinaifen grinned proudly, more smug than the duelists themselves. Facing her camera, she raised her chin and declared, "Her sword's no ordinary trinket either! Its true name is Old Mettle, and after fusing with the sheath of a divine blade from the Land of Destiny, it too gained the concept of absolute defense!"
With a flourish, she produced her own gold-and-crimson staff from nowhere, spinning it in one hand like a storyteller's prop as she narrated dramatically,
"One side wields the power to sever all things, the other the concept of absolute defense! These two heroes once clashed to the ends of the heavens, their battle nearly grinding the stars themselves to dust! Should either weapon unleash its full might, one combatant would surely perish on the spot!"
"But the two, rich in martial virtue, know this duel isn't one of life and death—but of skill and pride. So for these past few hours, they've been testing each other's intent, dulling the other's sharpness, waiting for a single mistake. Thus, we see—!"
Guinaifen struck her staff against the floor with a crisp crack, imitating the rhythmic enunciation of a traditional storyteller, then intoned with flourish:
"The young heroes of the Xianzhou spar in grace and honor, seeking mastery, not blood. One day, when their ambitions reach the clouds, they'll laugh and say—let abundance envy our courage!"
She paused mid-performance, abruptly switching tones with a bright grin. "Big thanks to everyone for the rocket donations! Follow Little Gui for more epic tales of the Xianzhou's rising stars!"
Phew…
Guinaifen wiped sweat from her brow. Her impromptu performance had finally revived the dying energy of the livestream. Never again, though—this was more exhausting than eating noodles while standing on her head.
Despite her regret, she kept up her professional enthusiasm, her words painting Yanqing and Yunli's petty rivalry as a duel of cosmic destiny—a symbolic clash between the young generations of the Luofu and the Zhuming, a celebration of martial virtue at the highest level.
Truly, the eloquence of a top streamer.
Herta, however, tuned out most of it. Her gaze was fixed solely on the two swords, eyes gleaming like a child's before a new experiment.
Weapons themselves didn't interest her—but conceptual power did. She knew the history of scientific progress across the universe by heart, and in all the recorded millennia, no mortal had ever wielded such a phenomenon.
Only one being—that one Emanator, spoken of with the reverent pronoun "He"—had possibly manifested it. Possibly. The Aeon of Abundance had loved that servant too much, granting Him power far beyond any other.
If she could, Herta would have studied Him thoroughly. But of course, the Xianzhou would never allow an outsider near their most dangerous historical enemy.
So that had always been just idle curiosity.
Yet now, staring at these two weapons, regret flooded through her circuits—so strong it almost caused an energy overload.
If only I'd researched the Luofu's current state before coming…
But no, she'd arrived, as always, with her usual indifference—set the terms of cooperation, and nothing more.
She could have negotiated for access to these weapons under the pretext of joint research!
Now it was too late.
She sighed quietly, then turned her eyes toward Guinaifen again.
Still… there might be a chance.
Herta spoke in an even, deliberate tone. "Those weapons—are they made by the Artisanship Commission?"
If there were only one, it might have been a one-of-a-kind relic. But if there were two, that changed everything. Even if production was costly, it meant they could be replicated—perhaps a third, a fourth…
She had plenty of research data in her possession. A trade could be arranged.
"Of course not," Guinaifen replied without hesitation. "The Artisanship Commission's good, sure—but these masterpieces? They came out of a trash can!"
"You mean the Curio Trash Can?!"
Of course, Herta knew of it—but only from a distance. The Space Station, floating in far-off sectors, couldn't possibly keep up with every item that emerged from that chaotic machine. Her information was still stuck at the day-one livestream.
Her current visit had only been motivated by professional curiosity: the seller was the only one who distributed curios in bulk, while collectors swarmed the Luofu. She had come to observe out of respect for the craft.
She hadn't expected to stumble upon such critical intel.
I need to tell Asta to update the Luofu's data archive as soon as possible.
Just a little more—and she'd have missed it completely.
If she'd buried herself any deeper in the digital realm, she might've spent a lifetime near this shop, blissfully unaware of what it held.
At that thought, a rare smile curved across the puppet's delicate face.
The Curio Trash Can Shop—this trip had truly been worth it.
──
"Ughhh…"
Qingque yawned miserably, her energy near zero. "What's with today? Usually, we sell out in two hours, but it's almost eleven, and there are still seven cans left!"
Behind the counter, Sylvester sipped his tea, perfectly relaxed. "The Martial Exhibition Ceremony is about to start. Everyone's busy. Besides, most people only draw green curios. The wealthy Xianzhou folk have probably been crushed by bad luck so hard they quit out of spite."
Qingque pouted. "First time I've seen a shopkeeper so chill about bad business."
"Me?" Sylvester chuckled smugly. "Even if no regular customers show up, the big powers of the universe will still fight to buy in bulk. Honestly, it's easier that way."
"So, what do we do today then?" Qingque perched on her chair, legs together, calves swinging a few inches off the floor, her expression that of a hungry orange cat.
Sylvester sighed in sympathy. "That's what you get for pulling an all-nighter playing cards and skipping breakfast. You must be halfway to immortality by now."
He glanced at the clock—nearly noon. No more customers were likely to come.
"Forget it. Go eat and rest. Come back in the afternoon. If anyone drops by, I'll log their curios and tell you later."
"Really?!"
The moment he said it, Qingque leapt from her chair, instantly transformed from dying sparrow to battle phoenix.
She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Then, uh… how about from now on, you just handle the records for me? That way I can rest even more! "