Climbing the mountain was harder than it had looked from below.
Not because of the height, but because of his condition and the nature of the terrain. Many stretches were covered in loose stone, and the trees grew at awkward angles that forced him to climb more than walk. Lin Yuan advanced patiently, stopping whenever the pain in his meridians sharpened and using the Grey Breath Gathering Method during brief pauses.
He would not let himself forget a simple truth: the system had helped him, yes, but his body was still far from that of a healthy cultivator.
He reached the summit shortly after noon.
The ruins were there.
They were not large, but they were unmistakable. Low fragments of wall. Two broken pillars. A half-buried staircase that no longer led to any whole structure. The stone blocks were covered with dry moss and old cracks. To anyone else, it would have looked like a place abandoned so long ago that nature had almost finished swallowing it.
The system issued a new notification.
Territory suitable for preliminary establishment detected.
Main mission available:
— Establish a sect in an ownerless territory.
Lin Yuan stood among the ruins, hearing nothing but the wind.
He had no banner.
No disciples.
No sect techniques, halls, elders, or backing.
Only himself, a forgotten mountain, and an impossible voice putting absurd missions inside his head.
"I need to know exactly what 'establish' means," he said.
The interface appeared.
Minimum requirements:
— Select base territory
— Confirm founder's will
— Complete initial link with system core
— Accept the founder's burden
Lin Yuan frowned.
"That is still vague."
"The bearer will understand more upon completing the process."
He was beginning to hate that answer.
Even so, he walked through the ruins. He discovered that the stones seemed to form a basic pattern, though badly eroded. The two broken pillars marked the entrance to what must once have been a courtyard. In the center, beneath the dirt and brush, he sensed a faint resonance. It was weak, but the medallion warmed when he passed over it.
He knelt and cleared away branches, soil, and small rocks with his hands.
Beneath them he found a cracked circular slab.
When he touched it, the medallion vibrated more strongly than anywhere else on the mountain.
"Here," he murmured.
The voice answered immediately.
Foundation point detected.
Do you wish to initiate sect recognition?
Lin Yuan let out a slow breath.
He looked around one last time.
The summit was poor. The energy of the place was thin. There were no visible treasures and no signs of obvious power. Any serious sect would laugh at a base like this. Even Piedra Seca had corners more comfortable to live in.
But the mountain stood alone.
And the system wanted it.
That was enough.
"Yes," he said. "I want to begin."
Lines of light spread out from the circular slab and ran beneath the ruins like glowing roots. It was not a dazzling spectacle. It was a silent awakening, ancient and almost restrained. Lin Yuan felt the pull of the link in his chest and understood that what he was doing was more than occupying a place.
He was claiming it.
Binding it.
Tying himself to it.
The voice spoke with mechanical solemnity.
"Territory recognition in progress.
Verifying absence of owner.
Resonance with founder's will."
The wind grew stronger on the summit.
Lin Yuan suddenly felt a weight on his shoulders, as though the mountain itself were measuring his intent. It was not pure hostility. It was pressure. Age. The silent judgment of something that had remained here long before him.
"Declare your will," the voice said.
For an instant, Lin Yuan felt absurdly uncomfortable.
Speaking aloud to ruins with only the wind as witness would have been ridiculous on any other day of his life.
But these were no longer ordinary days.
He straightened.
He looked at the slab.
At the broken pillars.
At the grey sky above the forgotten mountain.
And he spoke.
"I, Lin Yuan, accept the establishment of a sect in this place."
The wind struck his robe.
"I have no name that will impress anyone.
I do not have the power to support a grand oath.
I do not possess the resources to promise immediate glory."
His own voice sounded steadier than he had expected.
"But I have will. I have debts. I have a path to walk, even if the world said none existed. If this mountain accepts me, I will grow with it. If these ruins still hold anything, I will raise it. If this place is dead, I will force it to breathe again."
The lines beneath the earth shone brighter.
His heart thudded in his chest.
"I will not found a sect to kneel before the strong," he continued. "I will not found one to look grand. I will found it because I need a place that does not belong to those who decide the value of others with a single glance. I will found it because those thrown off the road deserve one of their own."
Silence fell.
Then the mountain answered.
Not with a voice.
Not with words.
With resonance.
The slab emitted a pulse of light. The pillars trembled. Beneath the ground, something ancient stirred, as if a buried structure had received an order it had waited a very long time to hear.
The interface filled with symbols before stabilizing into a single line.
Recognition accepted.
The voice declared:
"The bearer has completed the initial act of foundation."
A new window appeared in front of him.
Sect name: pending.
Lin Yuan stood still for a moment.
He had thought about sects and names since he was a child, but always as distant ideas belonging to powers he had never imagined touching. Now he had to name his own.
And it could not be any random name.
It had to contain something of what he was building.
Something of what he was.
Something of what he intended to defy.
He looked at the open sky above the mountain.
Then at the ancient ruins beneath his feet.
Then at the medallion, cold again against his chest.
Firmament, he thought.
Not the gentle heaven of prayers, but the vast vault beneath which all things fall or rise.
Primordial.
Not because he was great yet, but because he was beginning from the very first step. From the foundation. From nothing.
He lifted his head.
"Primordial Firmament Sect."
The interface flared.
Name validated.
Sect status: Mortal Sect.
Founder recognized: Lin Yuan.
Lin Yuan could not help a brief, incredulous laugh.
Mortal Sect.
A rank name almost humiliating in its honesty.
And yet honest names suited him better than grand lies.
The voice continued:
"Reward for initial foundation available."
New lines appeared.
Rewards:
— Dilapidated Main Hall
— 10 contribution points
— Basic founder authority
— Primary talent detection (limited range)
Lin Yuan read each line carefully.
"Dilapidated Main Hall?"
"Confirmed."
"That sounds less like a reward and more like inherited trouble."
"The founder's base must be built, not gifted."
For once, the answer did not irritate him. Deep down, it was exactly the sort of truth he understood.
The light in the slab gradually faded until only a faint glow remained in the cracks. Lin Yuan was alone once more on the summit, standing among poor ruins while the wind struck his clothes.
The world had not changed.
Not even the mountain had changed entirely.
But something irreversible had happened.
The orphan without a path from Piedra Seca was no longer just a lost boy with a strange medallion.
Now he was the founder of a sect.
No matter how small.
How ruined.
How absurd it was.
And that alone was already a form of challenge.