Ren didn't sleep much.
Not because of danger.
Because his thoughts wouldn't settle.
The settlement below his window quieted as lanterns dimmed one by one, but the echo inside him remained alert — not restless, not afraid.
Thinking.
Ren lay on his back, hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
Sects recruit.Clans inherit.Empires command.
Everything in this world moved through vertical power.
Upward.
Concentrated.
Fragile.
Ren exhaled slowly.
"What if I don't climb?" he whispered.
The echo pulsed faintly.
Interested.
Ren sat up.
The watchers wanted direction.
Sects wanted obedience.
Clans wanted bloodlines.
They all assumed the same thing:
That strength had to gather at the top.
Ren smiled faintly.
"They won't see it coming," he murmured.
At dawn, Ren left the inn.
Not toward a sect.Not toward a city.
He walked toward the edge of the settlement — where the roads broke into trade paths, courier trails, and half-forgotten routes used by people who didn't belong anywhere.
The echo stirred — curious, approving.
Ren followed a trail used by messengers and minor traders, stopping often, observing.
Who walked alone.Who traveled in pairs.Who helped each other without being ordered.
By midday, he found what he was looking for.
A small group of travelers had gathered near a crossroads — not organized, not protected by any banner. A healer. Two guards. A courier. A young cultivator barely holding his realm together.
They weren't strong.
But they weren't alone either.
Ren approached openly.
"You're heading north?" he asked.
The courier nodded warily.
"If the road stays open."
Ren glanced at the others.
"You'll need coordination. Not strength."
The healer frowned.
"And who are you to say that?"
Ren met her eyes calmly.
"Someone who's tired of watching people die alone."
Silence followed.
Then the young cultivator spoke hesitantly.
"…What are you suggesting?"
Ren didn't answer directly.
He crouched and drew simple lines in the dirt.
Routes.Roles.Signals.
"If you travel together," he said,"share information, rotate watch, protect each other's weaknesses… you increase survival by more than raw power ever will."
The guards exchanged looks.
"That sounds like a mercenary group," one said.
Ren shook his head.
"No contracts. No hierarchy. Just mutual benefit."
The echo pulsed — pleased.
The healer studied the drawing.
"And what do you get out of this?"
Ren smiled faintly.
"Distance."
They laughed.
Not mockingly.
Nervously.
But they listened.
By sunset, the group had agreed to travel together — not because Ren commanded them, but because the idea made sense.
Ren didn't join them.
He watched them leave.
Already, the watchers would be confused.
Already, reports would be harder to write.
No sect.No challenge.No rebellion.
Just… structure.
Ren turned back toward the settlement, the echo humming thoughtfully in his chest.
"Let them chase strength," he murmured."I'll build something that lasts."
The road ahead didn't fork.
It spread.
And for the first time since leaving home, Ren felt ahead of the world instead of behind it.