The skies above Tianzhen City were painted with streaming banners of crimson and gold, the colors of unity and courage. Atop the steps of the Heavenly Soul Palace, Su Mengtian stood robed in silver and thunder-blue ceremonial armor, a thunder-wrought mantle across his shoulders and the sigil of the Sovereign emblazoned upon his chest. Around him stood the Nine Hallmasters, members of the Eight Pillars, and legions of allied cultivators and citizens gathered across the plaza.
The time had come to enshrine a bond that would defy the ages.
This day would be remembered as the forging of the Iron Pact.
The idea had been born during the silent hours after the plague incident in Mistvale. Mengtian had walked the halls of the Sanctuary of Eternal Remembrance alongside Elder Phairos Den, contemplating the fragility of order in the face of unseen threats. They needed more than strategy and arms—they needed a soul-deep binding force. Not one of blind obedience, but one of unshakable conviction.
Now, as sunlight pierced through the jade towers of Tianzhen, the ancient ceremonial altar—once used only to honor the fallen—had been reconfigured into a sacred recording nexus. Floating above it, a crystalline ring spun slowly, glowing with layered soulscript runes. Each symbol was etched in sacrifice, legacy, and memory. A new power of oath-recording, developed in tandem by Phairos Den and Soulbinder Miren Vos, would etch each sworn vow into the spirit network of the realm.
Su Mengtian raised his hand.
"People of the Heavenly Spear Alliance," he called, his voice amplified through whispersteel conduits embedded into the plaza stonework, "today we swear not to an empire, not to a single will—but to each other. To this realm. To a future carved in courage, and not ruled by bloodline or blade alone."
He turned to the Hallmasters first. "Each of you governs a city, a culture, a pillar of our foundation. Your strength inspires your people, but your oaths must bind you to their well-being. Today, you will inscribe your loyalty—not to me—but to this alliance, its ideals, and its shared survival."
Hallmaster Ji Yeyan of Shadows stepped forward, his cloak a cascade of night. He unsheathed his oath-blade and drove it into the ground beside the altar. "I, Ji Yeyan, swear upon the Iron Pact. My mind, my silence, and my blades will defend the alliance's truth from shadows without and within."
One by one, the others followed:
Rao Lin of Valor knelt with hand over heart. "I swear upon the Iron Pact, to never retreat in the defense of our people, and to never raise arms in unjust ambition."
Inara of Ironblood pressed her gauntlet against the stone. "I swear that my Hall's endurance shall become the shield of the weak."
Baojin of Aegis etched her oath into a floating sigil of gold-light. "Defense with grace. Strength with honor. I swear this before the Pact."
Kai Chan of Echoes let his voice resonate through a harmonic whisper: "I vow to speak truth to confusion, and clarity to deceit."
Xiaoyun of Wyrmcallers whispered to her wyrm companions as they howled across the square. "By my bond with the beasts, I swear to protect harmony between all spirit life and humankind."
Lan Qiu of Tempests struck lightning into the stone: "Let the skies judge my oath: I will be the storm that defends the dawn."
Yue Mei of Luminousveil sent glowing sigils dancing above the altar. "I vow that illusion shall never hide truth, only protect it."
Xuan Le of Astral Command stepped forth with his star-map halo: "I swear upon the Iron Pact that strategy shall never become tyranny."
And last came Kaisen of Dawnriders. "I swear by every comrade I've lost to betrayal, that I shall never become what we once fought."
The oath-nexus glowed with radiant white as each vow was inscribed, connecting the Hallmasters' spiritual signatures into a mesh of woven loyalty that spread into the spirit-layer of Kun Island itself. A low hum rumbled through the plaza as the oath echoed across the realm.
Then Su Mengtian turned to the massed formations of soldiers, healers, cultivators, and common folk.
"This oath is not only for the high-born," he declared. "It is for every soul who dares to dream of a land free from conquest and corruption. You may swear it in your own tongue, with your own rites—but today, we are one."
Phairos Den stepped forward and unfurled an enormous scroll. Across its silk surface were drawn ancestral emblems from across all cultures of the alliance: beast-tribes, human clans, ancient cults, and lost nomads. "You may offer your vow in any symbol," he said, "and the Sanctuary shall accept it. We honor all roots."
Thousands stepped forward, each swearing in waves. Some offered blood upon a token, others pressed handprints, or whispered prayers, or carved ancestral runes into the woven cloth offered by the Shrine of Echoing Souls. Young and old, cultivator and farmer, beast-tamer and forge-worker—all joined the Iron Pact.
In the afternoon, a martial demonstration began. Lan Qiu rose high into the air upon a whirling disk of wind, while Rao Lin strode into the open plaza with a blade burning like a miniature sun. Together, the two Hallmasters launched a synchronized exhibition of combat arts that drew gasps and cries of awe.
Lan Qiu manipulated jetstreams and force spirals to lift entire formations of sky-soldiers into sweeping arcs. Rao Lin met them mid-air with defensive counters and parries, demonstrating restraint in power and discipline in strength. Then, switching roles, Lan Qiu played defender as Rao Lin unleashed a furious series of charged strikes, redirecting lightning and impact toward conjured barriers.
Each move, each flourish, was purposeful—an echo of protection, honor, and unity.
Children pointed in awe. Young cultivators recorded the entire event through rune-slates. The common people wept and cheered as the final clash ended in a burst of gentle, dispersing light.
That night, beneath the twin moons of Kun Island, bonfires were lit across all four towns and ten cities. In Tharnholt, Ashveil, Elorome, and Mistvale—every Outer Zone settlement—chants of unity and songs of loyalty rang out. In Nyxenhold and Viregrim, dancers performed symbolic reenactments of the oaths. In Miralume and Zephyros Reach, aurora-lights bloomed into the sky. Even Stellaris and Solara's Edge joined in synchronized fireworks of lightborne formations.
In the Heavenly Soul Palace, Su Mengtian stood once again upon the balcony overlooking Tianzhen City. Yueying came to his side.
"It is not just power that binds them now," she said. "It is belief."
Su Mengtian nodded. "And belief is harder to break than any wall."
Down below, people of all races, bloodlines, and origins joined hands in oath-sigil circles, each lit with spiritual flame. The Iron Pact had begun as a declaration.
Now, it was a living truth.
And should the storms return—and they would—they would face a realm that bled as one, fought as one, and rose as one.