As Yao Shen walked through the sandy lanes of the Inner Sect, he could not help but take a moment to admire the architecture that bore some resemblances to Mesopotamian styles, like the use of cuneiforms as signboards for various buildings, the ziggurat-like structure that comprised the outer sect and the generous use of robust columns that reinforced the larger buildings. That was where the similarities ended, as each personal residence had vivid reliefs carved across their surface, one depicting an expansive battle scene, another portraying waves viciously crashing against a large boulder— it was as if each house had a story to tell, a moral to share and a Dao to expound upon. One only had to be willing to listen.

His meeting with Meili Zhu had been a brief yet fruitful one, as she had agreed to have his invitations delivered; most likely through the employ of the faceless. His debt to the Zhu Family was accruing, yet the Zhu Family Patriarch had yet to ask for the smallest favor in return. It had not escaped him that the Zhu Family had won the bid for seven shares, the highest by far in the Sky Division. The truth of the matter was, Meili Zhu was getting on in the years, having lived for over three long centuries. Though she had decades yet ahead of her, it was only natural that she would start prioritizing the welfare of her descendants over political wrangling and infighting.

That left Yao Shen conflicted, if he were to be honest. Meili Zhu’s past actions, while in the purported best interests of the Sky Division, were not something that Yao Shen could bring himself to condone. Even now, he was almost certain that her amicable front was motivated by her own self-interests but…. who was he to cast judgement upon the last wishes of a decorated cultivator that has defended the Sky Division’s interests from before he was even born?

Yao Shen would be the first to admit that the past held… actions that he wasn’t proud of. Moments that he regretted. Mistakes that he wished to take back. Did that mean that he was incapable of change?

No.

Earth’s morality would never translate perfectly to Eliria’s, that he understood— the same way that a leader like himself held value only in an imperfect world, a world where existed no exact scale that let one weigh their sins against their virtues.

A debt was a debt, a promise was a promise— Yao Shen would not hold the Zhu Family’s past against them and naturally, he would honor the assurance that came along with the sale of ‘Shares’, up until his dying breath. For his reputation and the weight of his word hinged on that assurance, if nothing else.

But he would be watching.

In an effort to clear his thoughts, Yao Shen turned his gaze to his surroundings, wanting to take in more of the sect he would soon need to depart from.

His footfall came to an abrupt halt.

Yao Shen’s gaze shifted to a young disciple that had seemingly just stepped outside her accommodations. He began to walk over towards her, much to the surprise. Her leaf green hair was neatly braided into a ponytail, the earthen brown robes suiting the modest first impression she gave off well. A short sword was neatly sheathed at her waist and her cultivation seemed quite impressive for her age.

“Please do not be alarmed, child,” Yao Shen had a light smile upon his face, his hands clasped behind his back to give a disarming impression. “I merely wished to ask you a question, if I may.”

The girl reacted well after the initial stupor, a light flash of determination flashing in her eyes.

She lightly curtsied, seemingly unsure how else to respond to her new Patriarch, before replying, “It would be my honor, Grand Patriarch.”

“That…,” Yao Shen paused, searching for the apt word. “...gesture you did just now, could you repeat it?”

The young disciple gave Yao Shen a perplexed look, but hurriedly moved to comply. She reached for the ground, palming a fist full of sand in her small, dainty hands, cupped outwards like a monk begging for alms. First she held the first full of sand near her heart, then she raised it above her head, slowly letting the sand fall over her, an expression of reverence upon her face.

“What meaning does this custom have?” Yao Shen asked, straining to keep the edge out of his voice as he found himself on the cusp of realization.

“The Divine Mountain shields us from the elements, from the wrath of those who wish us harm and from the evil spiritual beasts that feed on the flesh of cultivators. This ritual is merely a small gesture of gratitude to him, who selflessly nourishes and protects us without asking for nothing in return,” The girl replied, her tone one of genuine gratitude if not reverence.

This. This was what had been bothering him all this while.

“Thank you, child. You may go.”

The Divine Mountain was an outright vexing name for a cultivator-made construct. The young girl earlier genuinely seemed to believe that it was a naturally formed mountain that she resided in, a fallacy that the Earth Division seemed all too happy to perpetuate.

But from the beginning, that name didn’t sit right with him. The Flame Division worshipped the Sacred Beast, Marayan, yes— but it was a beast and not a cultivator. It was the very basic tenets of traversing the path of ascension— a cultivator could love another cultivator, could respect them with all his heart but if they truly wished to continue seeking the path to the Grand Dao, they could never revere another cultivator the way one revered a divinity.

For to revere another cultivator with such intensity was to create a heart demon— for it was akin to admitting that one would never equal, much less surpass their accomplishments in this lifetime.

When he saw the girl doing that gesture, his subconsciousness had been prickled, as if there was something there that he wasn’t seeing.

That gesture, the way she reverently reached for the sand and let it fall over her, as if it were a blessing from the divine….

It immediately caused him to circle back to his original question.

Why were the cave systems sealed to begin with?

What if it was not the cultivator-made mountain that custom, likely passed down from generation to generation, was supposed to revere, but rather the land upon which it was built?

What if the land itself was divine?

Yao Shen’s expression was calm as he slowly walked back to his residence. His theory, after all, was only a theory— and a pretty shaky one at that.

Another week passed, as he forced himself to forget about the sealed cave systems and focus at the task at hand.

The design of the Mortal Capital was now being debated on a near-daily basis, as Yao Shen accounted for the feedback and improvements trickling in from the ‘specialists’ of the three Divisions, allowing him to further refine his designs to an astonishing degree. There were also debates over resource allocation, accompanied by a further round of hubbub when Yao Shen revealed that he had sent an invitation to the Eastern Righteous Path sects along with the non-human hegemons, to the Modern Sect’s Inauguration Ceremony.

Whether they liked it or not, their small corner of Ionea would become the center of attention when Envoys from the Eastern Powers, Dwarves and True Elves would all gather in one location. From the perspective of the Elders that had a significant stake in the Auction House, it was almost too good to be true, while others found themselves wondering if Yao Shen was biting off more than he could chew and the possibility of their actions resulting in increased interest from the Demonic Path, which, in all honesty, were valid concerns.

It was only late in the night, on the eighth day, when Meili Zhu gave him the go ahead. He supposed that her spies had been working to confirm whether his previous visit had gone unnoticed and if the coast was clear.