Polar Ash City, Frozen Heart Province, Ashborn Kingdom

Cradled in the frigid embrace of the Iceplains, Polar Ash City, the royal capital of the Ashborn Kingdom, lay in a massive sprawl of districts, farmland, and mortal territories.

It was mid-summer and a seasonal ice storm was approaching, scattering the wildlife before it. Frost hares ran into burrows, and herds of snowshoe deer retreated into small caves and crevices in the rough terrain.

Moments later, a mass of dark clouds began to pelt hail down on the frozen hills. Strikes of lightning crackled through the sky in brilliant flashes, and the thunder’s rumble echoed for dozens of kilometers.

As the storm drew closer, the black wall of clouds parted along the city's outermost boundaries, splitting into two enormous curtains that began to wrap around the city. The storm could not encroach even a meter upon the city’s protection arrays.

The work of the arrays did not stop there. Even the biting cold was halted at the city limits, maintaining a temperate climate within the city that was suitable for both crops and men.

For the common people living on the city's outskirts, the sight of the storm’s retreat was nothing short of miraculous. It was a deeply rooted tradition to stop all activity and watch the heavens bow before the royal capital.

Street vendors would smile, and children would cheer.

“Look, look! Even the heavens are afraid!”

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Mothers would point to the sky, whispering to their babies, “See, dear? Ice doesn’t dare fall on the land of the Ashborn.”

In the official districts of the city, the storm passed by largely unnoticed.

What would have happened if I had said no? Would I have lost all favor in the eyes of the world?

Muro stood, tea tray in hand, in the open-air meeting room of the Cloudborn Family. After spending the day in Cloudborn Manor, he had become so used to ornate sceneries that he barely noticed the palatial spreading of tapestries.

The moonfly silk, pearl-inlaid chairs and the opulent blackwood centerpiece table that would typically dazzle guests seemed unremarkable in his eyes.

The First Grade Spirit Gathering Array built into the walls was weaker than the one in his old meditation room in the Seaborn Estate.

Muro was staring through the gap between the walls. The rest of the Cloudborn Manor was visible below. Even if there were arrays in place to prevent accidental falls, he couldn't help but feel slightly off-kilter.

The houses were smaller than his pinky, the trees were dots of green, and the massive dome of the Cloud Spirit Commerce Hall looked small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. Further out, he saw the sprawling city carved up in uneven strips. A passing squall of dark clouds was only a thin line in the distance.

The outside world was full of mortals. In the territory controlled by the sect, there were hundreds of billions of them. Only a few dozen even knew of the existence of the sect, and their knowledge only scratched the surface. Within the Kingdoms, the sect was unfathomable, the heaven above the heavens.

If an Archon clenched his fist, how many lives would be extinguished in a breath of time?

The outside breeze was sweeping up Muro’s blue robes, giving him a slight sensation of cold. He made no move to adjust them - his cultivation might not have been significant by sect standards, but his body had long become impervious to ordinary discomfort.

After hearing about the Kingdoms for so long, he was finally exposed to them. This was the outside world.

How grand it all seemed, and yet how small and pathetic.