The core formation guardian of the Divine Mountain Sect who held the peak-quality communication mirror in his hands had an increasingly stupefied expression on his face as he watched Yao Shen tear through his Patriarch’s indomitable Divine Mountain Domain with his physical strength alone, a feat that alone threatened to shatter the guardian’s worldview.

He watched as the assault lead by the fearsome Elder Yongliang of the Sacred Flame Palace was dispatched with ease, Yao Shen walking out unscathed from the encirclement.

And finally, he watched as the Sacred Bird: Marayan was reborn anew, the thirty foot tall flaming bird sending waves of terror down his spine. The revelation that Patriarch Lei Weiyuan was capable of such a feat would normally be a grave threat to the Divine Mountain Sect’s longetivity, but in that moment the guardian watched on with hope— only to watch Yao Shen ruthlessly tear the Sacred Bird, symbolising the glory of the Sacred Flame Palace, in half.

Panic welled up in the guardian’s heart, not having prepared for an outcome where the combined might of the two hegemons of the Azlak Plains……lost. Twenty two elders and two Patriarchs losing against one cultivator, soul emperor or not, was not an outcome one could prepare for— not an outcome that should have been possible. The Guardian was the son of Elder Junjie, the Elder that had harried Yao Shen with attacks from beneath the earth, and thus had almost complete access to the sect records— no such feat had been recorded in the known history of Azlak Plains before.

His instinctive, knee-jerk reaction was to shatter the communication mirror— as one deeply loyal to his sect, the very thought of submitting to another filled him with utter revulsion, and the oaths had not been sworn yet. All was not lost…. Not yet.

A firm hand clamped down his shoulder, startling Guardian Shihong since he hadn’t detected any movement in the vicinity. Zhou Hui stood next to him, his expression almost as stunned as the Guardian himself, uttering two words that smothered any final thoughts of resistance he held in his heart,

“Keep recording.”

Half an hour passed as the Elders from both the sects took time to recuperate, some consuming healing pills while others sat down in a meditative posture to replenish their qi. Yao Shen stood by his lonesome in the center of the devastated clearing, displaying no impatience at the elders’ actions— No cultivator enjoyed remaining in a vulnerable position outside the bounds of their sect, especially not those who had managed to cultivate all the way to the coveted Sect Elder position.

Only after all the elders had recovered enough strength to be comfortable in combat did they hesitantly shamble forward in Yao Shen’s direction.

The world exploded in color as Yao Shen activated his human sight, despite the Elders’ attempt to restrain and conceal their emotional state. A dense cloud of uncertainty swirled around the elders, its bleak greyness consuming all other emotions that it encountered in its path, before they had a chance to fully form.

Yao Shen saw a flickering red cloud that represented the emotion ‘anger’ being consumed by the cloud of grey mists, replaced by the seemingly all-pervasive ‘uncertainty’ that dominated the landscape. The elder in question was pragmatic enough to understand that as one who broke the deadlock between the three hegemons of the Azlak Plains, Yao Shen had been far too reasonable in his response. A newly ascended Soul Emperor wielding the power of the Esoteric Dao’s could easily kill two Nascent Soul Patriarchs belonging to rival sects without facing any real repercussions from the Righteous Path.

But Yao Shen had not gone down the bloody path of suppression through strength, instead choosing to shatter the established status quo.

For one accustomed to anticipate deception and subterfuge with every word, every step and every action their rival took, kindness was truly their greatest weakness. The rivalry between righteous path sects seldom devolved into open conflict, but that did not mean it was any less cutthroat. The Azlak Plains may be considered a small territory, but that size was only relative to the rest of Ionea— Natural Treasures, hidden inheritances, spiritual ore veins, rare spiritual herbs were dotted across the land, and each hegemon strived to monopolize the resource before their rivals got a wind of it. However, the existence of spy networks like the Heavenly Sky Sect’s Faceless ultimately made most such attempts futile, forcing the three hegemons to devise a solution. This was why disciples fought over resource points in place of the elders, and although killing was frowned upon, many ancient inheritances had methods to render divine sense ineffective— effectively nullifying the ability of the elders to pry within the inheritance grounds.

This was why, even when confronted with Yao Shen’s mercy, none of the elders of the Divine Mountain Sect and the Sacred Flame Palace held any gratitude towards Yao Shen. Each of them held their own theories and rationalizations behind Yao Shen’s unprecedented actions, yet the obvious truth continued to elude them— for an action borne out of goodwill and a desire for betterment was no different from irrationality in their calculating, utilitarian mindsets.

All that remained…. was uncertainty, tinged with a feeling of loss.

While the other Elder’s slowly inched forward in Yao Shen’s direction, some feigning injuries while others openly wore their conflicted emotions upon their faces, one man broke away from the pack.

Elder Yongliang walked towards Yao Shen with a poised gait, his head held high as his proud gaze met Yao Shen’s. There was no arrogance held within those plain brown eyes, but at the same time the Elder felt no discomfort at his loss, and no shame at his prized spear, which he held in his right hand, having its divine sense brand shattered.

The clouds of uncertainty held no sway over Elder Yongliang, as he continued to walk forward until only a few meters separated him from Yao Shen. A vibrant orange cloud had almost entirely enveloped the elder in its embrace, growing larger with every passing second, representing the emotion ‘determination.’

Despite being completely bested in combat, confronted by a force that exceeded the realm of his understanding, the determination in Elder Yongliang’s heart burned with the same intensity as the flames he held dominion over.

Yao Shen could not remain unmoved in face of such staunch determination, in part because Elder Yongliang’s resolve was reminiscent of his own. Fate had pitted them as enemies, and while it remained to be seen if they could co-exist as allies, the very possibility alone was quite unprecedented.

“As the defeated in this duel, I, Yongliang Luo, shall honor the conditions set by the victor,” he proclaimed, his words spoken boldly without any hesitation. To the elders who were yet to come to terms with their new reality, his words echoed out like the thunderous claps of descending heavenly tribulation— shocking them out of their reverie.

Yao Shen gave him a curt nod, before he began reciting the words of the oath, “Yongliang Luo, do you, upon your honor, swear your loyalty to the newly established Modern Sect?”

“I, Yongliang Luo, swear my loyalty to the Modern Sect upon my honor as a cultivator of the Righteous Path.”

“Yongliang Luo. do you, upon your honor, swear not to betray the interests of the newly established Modern Sect unless the Sect by its direct actions, betrays your trust first?”

“I, Yongliang Luo, swear not to betray the interests of the Modern Sect unless I am given reason to believe that the Sect, by its direct actions, has betrayed my trust first.”

Yao Shen gave him another nod, shattering the divine sense brand he had left on his spear with a thought.

“Bow before your Patriarch,” Yao Shen’s voice boomed out with authority, attracting the attention of all the elders in presence, including the one’s from the heavenly sky sect.

They watched with bated breath as history itself was being forged in front of their eyes, some elders watching with a faint flicker of hope in their heart— hoping that the prideful Yongliang Luo would refuse to bow, hoping for something, anything, to buy them more time.

Unfortunately, their hopes were destined to be shattered.

Yongliang Luo gave Yao Shen a light bow, low enough to be respectful, yet not reverent in the slightest.

“Rise as an Elder of the Modern Sect.”

Yongliang Luo complied, his expression inscrutable as he uttered the words, “Grand Patriarch.”

“Elder,” Yao Shen acknowledged, and Yongliang Luo took his position at his side.

The remaining elders, bound by the terms of the duel that had been witnessed by all three hegemons of the Azlak Plains and the Eastern Righteous Path Alliance, gave up the final embers of resistance that they held in their hearts as they stepped forward, one after the other.

….

“Rise as an Elder of the Modern Sect.”

….

“Rise as an Elder of the Modern Sect.”

….

“Rise as an Elder of the Modern Sect.”