"The moment war stirs the wind, the sect banners unfurl. Some for honor. Some for memory. All for survival."
— Sungraze Codex of Sect Alliances, Fragment 21
⛩️ The Gathering at Hollow Crown's Base
As dawn breached the jagged mountains encircling the Hollow Crown, Jin stood atop the iron balcony of the Flamebound Tower, watching the horizon swirl with arriving cultivators. Their sect insignias shimmered in the rising sun like celestial relics come to life.
The call had gone out.
The pact had been shattered.
The realms had awakened.
And now—the sects were answering.
🐉 The Call to Arms
Jin, Lin Xue, Su Ren, and Ash-Eye stood before the ancient altar of Hollow Resonance—a stone relic engraved with the names of every sect that once swore fealty during the Dragon Accord era. As wind howled like ancestral whispers, one by one, the banners began to emerge:
White Sky Sect – Masters of Cloudwalking, loyal to the ancient sky dragons.
Bone-Iron Forgers – Wielders of weaponized corpses and spirit-forged relics.
Flamevault Pavilion – Known for their sun-wielding elder, now returning from exile.
Silken Veil Sect – Assassins and soulbinders, reemerging after their hidden matriarch received visions of Jin.
Thundering Jade Hall – Famed for techniques that once cracked floating mountains.
Moonwater Mirror Sect – Illusionists and memory-walkers.
Ash-Fang Order – Nomadic sect bonded to fire wolves and sacred beasts.
Nine-Colored Spear Society – War-born sect from the scarred frontiers.
Frostwound Temple – Cold cultivators that turned glaciers into fortresses.
Dawn-Splinter Sect – Strategists and tacticians, led by twins who speak in one voice.
Red Lotus Choir – Cultivators who sing battle arias that alter fate.
Windborne Dagger Sect – Sky thieves and storm-riders.
Jade Gravekeepers – Cultivators who bury fallen sects and awaken their remnants.
Each had their reasons.
Some revered Jin from legends.
Others feared what he represented.
And a few… had come to kill him.
"Thirteen banners," Lin Xue whispered. "Just like the pact era."
"It begins again," Jin said.
⛵ Preparation for the Westward Campaign
Jin unfurled the Map of Unfolding War upon a stone slab, each sector now pulsing with spiritual tension.
The map rippled as divine ink shimmered over the Western Sea. There, an island appeared—Shellspine Isle, once thought lost after Muruk'an's burial.
Ash-Eye traced the coastline with one claw.
"If the Tideborne remnants have reawakened, they'll be here."
"Then we strike before they consolidate," Su Ren said.
But Lin Xue hesitated.
"We're not marching against mortals. This is a dragon-worshipping force. They don't fight for territory… They fight for remembrance."
Jin nodded.
"Then we won't crush them. We'll make them remember why they once knelt."
🌊 The Great Spirit-Fleet Forms
In the harbor at the base of the Hollow Crown, spirit-forged ships began forming from sect arrays, spectral wood, and beast bones.
Each sect summoned its flagship:
The Celestial Fang (Ash-Fang Order)
The Sunpiercer Caravel (Flamevault Pavilion)
The Echoing Silence (Silken Veil Sect)
The Memory Current (Moonwater Mirror Sect)
The White Lotus Wrath (commanded by Jin himself)
As the ships aligned in battle formation, Jin's flagship levitated without oars, sails, or anchors—fueled by the Hollow Crown's flame that now flowed through his spirit veins.
🧠 Cultivation Surge: Soul-Tethered Anchoring
Jin sat cross-legged on the ship's prow as storm clouds rolled toward them.
He entered meditation—not for rest, but for Soul-Tethered Anchoring, a forbidden technique once reserved for dragon-summoners.
He sank deep into his sea of consciousness.
There, he found a lotus again—but this time, its petals bore names.
Su Ren.
Lin Xue.
Ash-Eye.
Yao Wei, the Sword-Forgotten Monk.
Grandmaster Liu, who taught him in his first life.
The masked woman from the Blood Lotus.
And one petal with a name he could not read—blurred, like a memory yet to return.
"This voyage… is not just a march," Jin whispered to the depths.
"It is the path back to truth."
Lightning struck the sea.
The ships launched.
The Realms shifted.
⚔️ Closing: The Warhorn
As the fleet crossed the first boundary between realms—between sky and sea, silence and storm—Jin rose to the bow and drew his blade.
He struck the sea once.
It parted.
Then he said three words, old as time:
"Begin the voyage."
And from every ship, a single warhorn answered.
The sea shuddered.
The sky cracked.
And far ahead—beneath the waves—Muruk'an opened his second eye.