The black dragon actually knew nothing about ascension or the Demon Realm.
Even the oldest stone tablets in the Ancestral Court held no relevant records.
Even the fragmented inherited memories deep within his bloodline contained only scattered scraps: cultivate, grow stronger, and then... go somewhere.
No name, no coordinates, no concrete description of any kind.
Only instinct.
Like a fish needing to swim, a bird needing to fly, a heart needing to beat.
From the moment he was born, he had known that one day he would leave-and that he had to leave.
"Ascension" was the sole meaning of his existence in the Ancestral Court.
His name was Ao Chen.
A pureblood black dragon.
The Ancestral Court was vast.
So vast that even at the ninth tier, he needed a long time to make a full circuit.
Mountain ranges stretched for tens of thousands of miles, with unfathomable abysses and ancient forests shrouded in mist year-round.
Every mountain, every river, every forest belonged to the Demon Race.
The Ancestral Court was also small.
So small that there was scarcely, scarcely any room left for other races.
Humans? Of course they existed.
They were scattered along the fringes of the Ancestral Court, living on the most barren land.
Ao Chen first saw a human when he accompanied his elders on a journey at the age of three.
It was a gaunt old man, kneeling at the foot of a mountain with several crudely made jade bottles set before him.
"My lord, these are this month's pills."
The old man's voice was hoarse, his head bowed so low it nearly touched the ground.
Ao Chen stood on the slope, looking down at him.
That was the first time he learned that races other than the Demon Race existed in this world.