Lin Mu was silent for a moment, processing that.
"In raw political power," Meng Bai continued, "the three clans aren't absolute rulers. They don't sit on thrones or command armies openly. But culturally…"
He spread his hands.
"They're everywhere. Names, techniques, crafts, bloodlines. It's estimated that around fifty percent of the world's population has some connection to at least one of the three clans."
Lin Mu exhaled slowly.
"That's not just influence," he said. "That's foundation."
"Exactly," Meng Bai replied. "They didn't rule by force. They became the world."
Daoist Chu smiled faintly. "And such roots are the hardest to uproot."
Lin Mu leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting upward toward the sky above the courtyard.
No wonder this world felt so cohesive, so interconnected despite its size and complexity.
It had not been built by conquerors who imposed order from above, but by pioneers who wove themselves into every layer of existence.
