Journey of True Cultivation-Chapter 75: Call to All Disciples

With a content smile, Li Yun simply nodded, his eyes slowly closing as he lifted his cup of spiritual tea and took a light sip. Seeing him drink in silence, Yuan did the same.

The two of them sat quietly, each enjoying the soothing warmth and rich aroma of the tea. It carried a fresh, calming scent, and every sip brought a subtle warmth that spread gently through the body.

There was nothing more to be said.

Beyond the limited knowledge that a war was coming, neither of them knew much else. All they could do now was wait, for the sun to sink toward the horizon, and for the sect's declaration to begin.

As Yuan drank the tea, he could feel his blood loosening slightly, its resistance softening under the influence of the spiritual energy within the brew. He focused inward, hoping to prolong the effect through light cultivation.

And he succeeded.

The subtle warmth continued to flow within him, extending the benefit of the tea for at least a few more hours, time he otherwise might have wasted while waiting for the elders to formally declare war on the Five Families.

Then, after what felt like hours, Li Yun opened his eyes. Without a word, he gently set his teacup down onto the wooden table with a soft clap.

Though the sound wasn't loud, it broke the long silence, enough for Yuan to open his eyes as well.

His gaze shimmered with a faint azure glow, his black eyes, touched by the lingering effects of cultivation, reflected the soft energy still moving within him.

Li Yun met his eyes and smiled.

"It's time to go," he said calmly. "The sun is already close to setting."

Yuan looked at the nearly empty cup in his hand, drank the final sip of spiritual tea, and placed it down beside Li Yun's.

Then, he stood from his chair.

Li Yun followed his lead without hesitation.

Li Yun first picked up the two teacups and, with a smooth flick of his wrist, let them slip into his sleeve where his already open bag of holding waited to receive them. The motion was swift and practiced, within seconds, both cups had disappeared.

He then walked to the door, opened it, and politely gestured for Yuan to step out first.

Yuan nodded and exited the cultivation cave. Once he was outside, Li Yun followed and sealed the door behind them with a brief motion of his hand.

With the cave now secured, the two of them began walking side by side toward the staircases that led up the Seventh Peak Mountain to the higher floors of the sect.

On the way, they encountered several Inner Sect disciples, many of whom recognized Li Yun and quickly came over to greet him, asking casual questions about his return and what had happened during his seclusion.

Most of these disciples belonged to the Rising Flames rank and largely ignored Yuan, viewing him as unimportant.

But as more and more disciples gathered around Li Yun, it became harder for Yuan to even move through the crowd. He found himself subtly pushed to the back, unnoticed.

Noticing this, Li Yun stopped on the staircase and turned to Yuan with a small but sincere smile.

"Brother Yuan, you should walk next to me, not behind me."

Those simple, yet meaningful words stunned the surrounding Rising Flames ranked inner sect disciples. The shift in atmosphere was immediate.

In the blink of an eye, their attitudes toward Yuan flipped as if turning a coin. They began smiling, nodding, and even trying to engage him in conversation.

Yuan understood what Li Yun had just done.

With one sentence, Li Yun had publicly signaled Yuan's importance to him, forcing the others to recognize and respect him as well. And now, these disciples were scrambling to befriend him, hoping to earn Li Yun's favor by association.

To Yuan, this behavior was pathetic.

He disliked this type of cultivator, those who sought to rise not through their own efforts, but by clinging to someone stronger.

"If you need the favor of others just to stand out, how do you expect to climb the true heights of cultivation?" Yuan thought.

"Cultivation is a lonely path. Strength is born in solitude and struggle, not through flattery."

Sure, help could accelerate progress, but relying on it entirely would never produce true power. At most, such people would become puppets for those they tried to serve.

And once their usefulness ran out... well, what need does a puppeteer have for a useless puppet?

Still, Yuan kept those thoughts to himself. On the outside, he wore a calm, friendly smile, joining in on the surface level conversation.

He understood the game and for now, he would play his role.

Slowly, they arrived at the seventh floor, a place usually reserved for the Sect Head and the Grand Elders. But now, nearly eight hundred disciples stood gathered before a single pavilion: the Sect Hall.

The Sect Hall pavilion was massive, capable of holding slightly more than a thousand people. Its size alone was impressive, but its design was equally striking.

The entire structure was painted a deep, dark green that matched the surrounding pavilions of the other elders and blended naturally with the towering trees that surrounded the area.

Seven sharp, slender towers crowned the pavilion, but what stood out the most were the main doors, massive stone slabs more than seven meters tall, carved from a dark gray stone that radiated a sense of weight and age.

It was a majestic building.

But what truly caught Yuan's attention were the small glowing runes etched into the pavilion's surface. Delicate yet powerful, they shimmered faintly along the walls.

Yuan stared at them, briefly stunned.

"A runic formation," he thought. "The first one I've seen since leaving the Illusion Forest."

The sun was beginning to set behind the Sect Hall, casting long shadows and bathing the pavilion in warm gold. The murmurs of the disciples slowly faded, until a hush fell over the crowd.

And then, with deep, echoing groans, the seven meter tall stone doors began to open.

The setting sun framed the pavilion from behind, lending it an even more majestic presence. As the heavy doors fully parted, the interior of the great hall was revealed, spacious, silent, waiting.

One by one, the disciples began to walk inside.

Yuan followed.

Inside the Sect Hall, he glanced around in quiet awe.

The decoration was lavish, elegant carvings, precious wood, fine materials. Everything about the interior screamed wealth and prestige.

"So the sect really doesn't hold back when it comes to important places like this," Yuan thought.

But what drew the most attention was the broad staircase at the far end of the hall, leading up to an elevated platform where a throne made of dark green stone rested.

Yuan tried to get a better look, but his position wasn't ideal, his view was partially blocked, and he couldn't clearly make out the finer details.

So, he shifted his gaze around the hall, until a loud bam echoed behind him.

He turned his head.

The massive gray stone doors had closed, sealing the hall completely.

Yuan wasn't surprised. He had expected something like this would happen.

"Cough."

A single, loud yet strangely calm cough rang through the hall. It was both commanding and quiet, an unusual combination that instantly caught everyone's attention.

All eyes turned to the throne platform.

There, standing on the higher stage, were four figures.

Seated in the center, upon the throne, was a man dressed in a dark green ceremonial robe. His long black hair flowed behind him, and while Yuan couldn't clearly see his face due to the distance and angle, the aura he projected was unmistakable powerful, composed, and absolute.

To the man's left, two elderly figures stood motionless and coldly at them with their hands clasped behind their backs. They too wore dark green ceremonial robes, though each bore unique patterns on their fabric, symbols of rank or sect position, perhaps.

One of the elders had long, dirty blonde hair, while the other's hair was a gleaming silver white.

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To the right of the throne stood a middle aged man with dark hair. Unlike the two elders, his robe was plain and simple, not ceremonial like the others, the color and style matched one of the worn robe by the man sitting on the throne.

All four stood silently, like statues, exuding an air of solemn authority.

Then, nine more figures entered from the sides, all elderly men, each taking a position on a lower section of the hall, below the main platform but arranged in a stepped formation.

Some wore robes with patterns similar to the elders above, while others had simpler designs, three of them even wore plain dark green robes, devoid of patterns.

Yuan narrowed his eyes, trying to make out their features more clearly, but before he could examine them in detail a calm, quiet voice filled the hall.

"Disciples of the Howling Wind Sect, hear me."

Yuan's head immediately turned toward the dark green stone throne. The voice had come from the man seated upon it and now that he was speaking, all eyes were locked on him.

"I am Wang, Branch Sect Head of this branch of the Howling Wind Sect. Some of you may have seen me before, and others may be hearing my voice for the first time. But that does not matter today."

The hall remained silent.

Every Inner Sect disciple listened attentively. Some gazed at him with curiosity, others with excitement, and a few with barely hidden fear. The emotions in the room were varied, but not one dared to speak.

"Today, I bring you news that cannot be ignored. The Five Families have officially declared war against the Seven Sects of the Seven Peak Mist Mountain Region. With this declaration, the Seven Sects have come to a unified decision. We will eliminate the Five Families."

The words struck like thunder.

A few disciples inhaled sharply. Others tensed but remained composed. Yuan simply watched and listened, his expression unreadable.

"That is all I have to say. The details of what will follow will be explained by the elders of our sect."

With that, Branch Sect Head Wang fell silent and an gray mist appeared out of nowhere the mist then slowly faded away, taking him with it, leaving the dark green throne alone.