The vessel descended through drifting banks of cloud, its runes glowing faintly as it slowed. Beneath them stretched the vast sprawl of Heavenly Dragon Sect's outer grounds—rows upon rows of tiled rooftops, courtyards larger than villages, training fields so wide they seemed to swallow entire academies whole.
Li Wei gripped the railing, steadying himself against the surge of awe. Even after three days of flight, the scale of it felt unreal. This was no kingdom city, no provincial academy. This was a world unto itself.
They landed at a stone platform outside a towering gate. Already, lines of disciples in gray and white robes were moving in and out with practiced rhythm, some carrying bundles of herbs, others weapons, still others scrolls bound in silk. None spared more than a glance for the new arrivals.
The elder who had ferried them gave a curt wave. "Come."
The six from Xianglong descended. Where they had been hailed as prodigies at home, here they were met with indifference. A few passing disciples gave them sidelong looks—curious, faintly disdainful—but most simply walked on.
Li Wei felt the difference immediately. The cheers of the kingdom tournament were still fresh in his memory, yet here they meant nothing. His victory, his struggle, his triumph—it was dust in the wind before Heavenly Dragon Sect's walls.
Beside him, Liang Fei let out a low whistle. "Hah. Look at this place. Bigger than five cities stitched together. I like it already."
Xu Feng scoffed, crimson sigils along his arms faintly glowing. "And yet most of those you see are ants. If you cannot rise quickly, you will be buried among them."
Jian Tao walked ahead without comment, his crimson-and-gold robes drawing faint whispers from some of the watching disciples. His jaw was set, his eyes sharp.
Mei Yun drifted closer to Li Wei, her voice soft enough only he could hear. "Does it feel strange? To walk in a place where no one knows your name?"
Li Wei's gaze swept across the endless courtyards, the towering pavilions, the streams of disciples who spared them no more attention than they would falling leaves. "It feels… honest. Glory at home is nothing here. Only the Dao matters."
Mei Yun smiled faintly, though her eyes held thought. "Then perhaps this is the first place where we can truly begin."
They were led into a vast square where a monolithic stone stele stood, etched with tens of thousands of names. Faint light glimmered from the surface, each name ranked in order. At the very top, ten names blazed in golden characters, their strokes radiating sharp intent.
"You are the newest batch," he said, his tone flat as stone. "Xianglong Kingdom, is it? Hmph. A minor tributary. Every few months, the Sect draws in seedlings from kingdoms and empires across the region. Do not mistake your arrival for fortune unique. The last batch came from Qingzhou Empire. The next will come from another. Each is the same. Each thinks themselves special."
Jian Tao stiffened, but did not speak. Xu Feng's lips curled faintly, as if even this lecture were beneath him.
The elder's gaze swept them like a blade. "Here, your kingdoms mean nothing. Your titles mean nothing. What matters are two things: contribution and ranking."
He flicked his sleeve, and six wooden tokens floated into their hands. Each was etched with runes that glowed faintly.
"Contribution points," he explained. "Earned through missions, labor, and sect service. Points may be exchanged at the Treasury Hall for pills, manuals, tools, or access to cultivation grounds. No points, no resources. A cultivator without resources stagnates. Simple enough."
The attendant's gaze lingered briefly on Li Wei and the other tournament finalists. "As victors of your kingdom's selection, the sect acknowledges your efforts with an initial stipend. The higher your placement, the greater the reward. Remember—this is not a gift, but an investment. Waste it, and you will find yourself no different from the rabble."
With a flick of his sleeve, runes blazed across their tokens. Li Wei glanced down: 500 contribution points. Enough to buy a cultivation manual, or stock of spirit herbs. A head start, but no guarantee.
Shen Mu smirked faintly as he inspected his own token, while Liang Fei clenched his jaw, clearly dissatisfied with the lesser sum. Jiang Tao's proud facade cracked for just a moment before he masked it with a scoff.
The elder continued. "Then, ranking. In the plaza at the heart of the outer sect stands the Stele of Names. Each disciple's rank is carved there, determined by victories in duels. Those ranked higher enjoy privileges — larger stipends, better housing, priority in mission selection. If contribution points buy your cultivation, ranking determines your standing. Both are ladders, but only one reaches the heavens."
Liang Fei's grin widened. "So I just have to knock heads until my name is at the top, eh?"
"Knock too slowly, and others will climb past you," the elder said coldly.
At that, murmurs rose among the surrounding disciples. Newcomers always came with fire. Most were smothered before they ever reached the first rung.
The elder's voice hardened again. "Once every three years, the outer sect holds its Grand Tournament. The top one hundred are granted candidacy for the inner sect. Fail, and you will remain here until your years are spent. Succeed, and doors will open. That is the path."
Jian Tao exhaled through his nose, expression carefully neutral, though his eyes gleamed sharp. Xu Feng's faint smirk deepened, his bloodline's crimson marks pulsing faintly as if in answer to the challenge. Mei Yun's face was unreadable, though her hands clenched lightly in her sleeves. Shen Mu remained stoic, as though already calculating what it would take to stand among the hundred.
Only Li Wei's gaze lingered on the elder, quiet but unwavering. He carried no arrogance, no boasting, only the still certainty of one who understood mountains were not moved in a day.
With a wave of the elder's sleeve, plain grey robes appeared folded before them, alongside six tokens of residence. "You are outer sect disciples. These robes will be your identity; your tokens, your key. The quarters you are given are the lowest tier. Earn better through rank, or rot where you are. That is all."
Dismissed, the six followed an attendant into the winding paths of the sect. Stone bridges crossed over rivers of mist, training fields sprawled across terraced slopes, and buildings rose in layers up the mountainside. Above, further peaks shone faintly with palaces shrouded in arrays — places that belonged to inner sect disciples and beyond.
When at last they reached their quarters, the sun had begun to fall. The newcomer compound was simple — small courtyards, bare stone rooms, a shared well. Far below the splendor they had glimpsed, yet still more than anything the academy could have offered.
---
The night passed in restless meditation. Li Wei's qi flowed steady, pressing against the boundaries of late-stage refinement. His foundation felt stronger than ever, yet he knew breaking through to Foundation Establishment would not come easily. He would need resources, opportunities—things that only contribution could buy.
At dawn, the sect stirred awake. Bells rang faintly in the distance, marking the hours. Outside his window, disciples were already walking in neat lines toward training fields and mission halls.
Li Wei rose, tightening his robes. His hand lingered on the hilt of his sword.
This was no longer Xianglong. Here, no one cared for his victories. His path would be written anew with every step.
---
He stepped outside to find Liang Fei already stretching, bruised arms wrapped in fresh bandages.
"Morning, brother sword," Liang Fei boomed, his grin wide. "I'm heading to the mission hall first thing. Got to earn my fists a meal worthy of them."
Xu Feng passed by with a scoff, crimson sigils faintly glowing as his qi stirred. "Fists and meals. Pathetic. I'll be at the ranking stele. That is where true warriors prove themselves."
Jian Tao emerged last, his expression still princely calm, though his eyes betrayed unease. He walked past without a word, crimson robes swaying.
Mei Yun joined Li Wei, her presence steady as ever. "Which will you choose first?" she asked softly.
Li Wei looked toward the distant pavilions, where the mission halls rose like mountains of stone and scrolls. His hand tightened faintly on his sword.
"The mission hall," he said at last. "I need to understand the cost of this path. Only then can I decide how to walk it."
Mei Yun nodded. "Then I will walk with you."
Together, they set off toward the halls, the sun rising above Heavenly Dragon 's peaks.
Here, in the shadow of the sect's vast mountains, the true climb had begun.