Yao Shen’s eyelids were shut as he trailed across the sky, using nothing but his divine sense to guide him forth. He allowed the winds to crash against his person, his long hair wildly fluttering at the natural Dao’s whims. The landscape beneath him feet was a constantly moving scenery, the individual details flitting past him as he blazed forward at the bona fide speed of a Soul Emperor.

His contingent had long since given up trying to keep pace with him, allowing Yao Shen to truly stretch his wings for the first time since his ascension. The gulf was even larger they had presumed, for despite the utmost of efforts, all the two peak-stage Patriarchs’ had managed was to keep Yao Shen in the periphery of their gazes.

The preceding fortnight had been one of politicking and scheming, unlocking ancient secrets that only led to greater mysteries and confronting the realization that he presided upon the Modern Sect seated upon a throne of cards, perhaps only separated by a single misstep from folding down and crashing upon itself. The True Elves, The Amadori, the Demonic Path and the other righteous path sects all swirled around him and if Yao Shen did not exhibit the proper caution required to navigate these tumultuous waters, he would find himself trapped in the center of the vortex.

It felt quite freeing to let of those tensions and take to the skies, the sensation almost as thrilling as the first time he’d done so. It had been over a century since Yao Shen was a youthful Foundation Establishment Cultivator, his two legs shakily planted upon the flat of a flying sword that his Master had procured for him. A blend of fear and exhilaration wrought upon his soul, as he continually shifted his footing in small increments; teetering over the blade’s edge by the smallest of margins.

To channel his qi into the blade and have its effect amplified by the flying sword’s own reserves, manuevering his body to control the direction and fluctuating his Qi input to control speed— the mechanics of flight as a weaker cultivator were, quite ironically, more complex than a Soul Emperors’. His Master trailed ahead of him, a curtain of wind roiling and shifting around him, shielding him from the elements. Back then, his master’s slightly hunched back could bear the weight of the world in his mind’s eye, his aspirations limited to one day matching the senior cultivator’s stature as a Nascent Soul Cultivator.

As long as his master’s silhouette was still in sight, the young Yao Shen knew that he would come to no harm even if he lost his footing. Though for him, that was never an option— disappointing the cultivator that had given him so much, and yet, asked for so little in return; he would much rather prefer oblivion if the alternative was embarrassing his master. Not that he would be reprimanded for it…. in hindsight, it was not the ideal disciple that his master saw in him, no, there were yet disciples more qualified than him even among those that hailed from mortal backgrounds; rather, the son he’d never sired.

So he’d persevered and persevered until the sword beneath his feet was replaced by thin air, his ephemeral soul turned tangible, until he became the mighty cultivator Yao Shen, Master of the Esoteric Human Dao.

Only…..the one person he had something to prove to, was no longer standing by his side when the time came.

There were few things in life that perfectly met one’s expectations. Disappointment was commonplace and seldomly, one could have their presumptions shattered; reality exceeding the prison of one’s expections. As Yao Shen hovered above the Earth Division though, he was at a loss for words— it’s grandeur was truly a sight to behold, it’s sheer presence permeating across the land. He had thought that the Sky Division’s spies had exaggerated, that the Elders that had been invited to the Earth Division back when ties between the Sects were a touch more amenable, had been embellishing tales to echo their own fearlessness.

The Divine Mountain was a monolithic structure that arose from the depths of the earth, an anomaly in the otherwise grassy plains and forested lands that comprised the Azlak Plains. Towering over the surrounding landscape, the Divine Mountain cast a long, serrated shadow that shrouded everything in its wake in darkness; giving the impression of a vast serpentine beast’s crooked fang as opposed to holiness or divinity.

It’s surface oscilated between hues of dark-brown and black, every inch comprised entirely of bedrock pulled directly from the earth. The Divine Mountain was truly the most overt display of raw power he had seen, for contrary to what many disciples might believe, it was not a naturally formed structure. Two rings of greater rune-script ensconced the base of the mountain, forming complete circular formations that that thrummed with power.

The sun-facing side of the mountain was where the outer sect was situated, in a clever architectural choice. Instead of carving directly upon the man-made mountain’s surface when confronted by the inevitable need to expand beyond the boundaries of the inner sect, the Earth Cultivators had chosen to terraform the land instead— raising steppes of soft, fertile earth in a series of terraces or rather, levels, that were connected to the face of the mountain. Each level got progressively smaller in surface area, until the fourth, and final step that lead to the true entrance of the Divine Mountain. A long flight of narrow stone stairs led directly from ground level to the to the uppermost layer, the entire structure resembling the architectural layout of a ziggurat, albeit one that had been affixed to the side of a mountain.

A secondary formation guarded the outer sect’s border, but the Earth Division’s true defense would always be the formation embedded into the Divine Mountain itself. One glance at it and Yao Shen could tell that even he was not capable of punching through the rocky outcropping and jagged edges protruding from the mountain, not even close.

This had been a concern for the Sky Division of the past, but it worked in favor of the Modern Sect of the present. The expertise and aid of the Earth Division would be invaluable in constructing the Mortal Capital, All Haven and he looked forward to consulting their Elders upon this matter.

Roughly ten minutes later, the rest of his contingent finally caught up to him.