The council chamber was thick with tension. Shadows flickered over the stone walls, cast by the single lantern in the center of the room. The elders of the Stone Clan sat in a tight circle, their faces drawn and weary. The usually calm eyes of Elder Liang, their Formation Master, darted anxiously towards the door every few moments, as if he expected it to burst open at any second.
No one said anything, not at first. They all knew what was at stake.
The head of the clan, Patriarch Lucien, finally broke the silence, his voice a low rumble. "Thundercrest Dominion is at war, and we're caught in the crossfire. They've called on every vassal to provide them with resources and cultivators. They expect full obedience and they don't care how many of us are crushed in the process."
A murmur ran through the room. Thundercrest Dominion had been their overlord for generations, controlling everything from trade to cultivation resources. The Stone Clan had managed to survive under their rule, but barely. Thundercrest's demands had grown harsher with each passing year, but now--now the Dominion wat war with another faction, and they'd drag every vassal down with them if they had to.
"Our scouts say the enemy faction, the Blood Fang Clan, has forces almost equal to Thundercrest's. And both are ruthless," Elder Wei Chen spoke up, his gaze hard. "This won't be a brief conflict. They'll tear each other apart, and every clan caught in the middle will be bled dry before it's over."
Elder Liang clenched his jaw, his eyes moving around the circle. "It's not just the immediate danger. Even if Thundercrest wins, they'll drain us. The price will be years of loyalty payments, possibly taking our best cultivators. If we stay, there may be no future left for us."
The elders sat in silence, absorbing his words. The Stone Clan had barely clung to survival as it was. They couldn't risk losing their youngest and most promising cultivators to a war that wasn't theirs to fight. And even if they survived the bloodshed, they'd still be under Thundercrest's heel, forever subject to their demands.
"We do have... the other option," Elder Celia said quietly, almost reluctantly. Her words fell like stones into the silence, and others turned to look at her.
Patriarch Lucien nodded, "Ironwave Sect."
The elders exchanged uneasy glances. The Ironwave Sect was powerful, led by a Nascent Soul cultivator and far from Thundercrest's territory. It had its own way of ruling, but it left its vassals alone, only demanding small tributes and military aid in times of true crisis. Ironwave didn't treat its vassals like slave—they were allowed freedom to govern their own territory and were encouraged to grow. It was far cry from the iron grip Thundercrest had held them in for centuries.
Elder Liang looked at Lucien, his eyes filled with cautious hope. " we scouted that land decades ago, as a precaution. We found strong spiritual veins, mountains, and rich soil. It would be ... a good place for us, even if it's rough. But are we ready to leave everything behind?"
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Lucien met his gaze, determination hardening his features." we won't survive here if we stay. Thundercrest and Blood Fang will drain every vassal clan dry. But if we leave quietly, there's a chance—a small chance, but still a chance—that we can start fresh."
"Leave quietly," Elder Wei Chen repeated, letting the words sink in. "If we're caught, Thundercrest will mark us as traitors. They'll hunt us down before we cross the border. We'd have to slip away without anyone noticing, like thieves in the night."
Elder Celia's expression was firm. "We leave no trace. No one knows where we are going—not even other vassals. If Thundercrest believes we've vanished or been destroyed, it might buy us the time to reach Ironwave territory and settle before they even realize we're gone."
A heavy silence followed her words. They would be leaving behind their ancestral home, the only land they'd known for hundreds of years. Everything that couldn't be carried world be abandoned. For many of the elders and the mortal members, it was a bitter choice. But they all knew that survival had to come first.
Elder Wei Chen nodded slowly determination filling his gaze. "Then we prepare. No farewells. No ceremonies. We gather only what we need, and we move."
Lucien turned to each elder, his gaze intense. "Tell no one outside this room. We'll spread word to the core cultivators tomorrow, when the preparations are set. And on the third night, we leave."
The elders nodded, a sense of finality settling over them. Plans had been set in motion, and there was no turning back now. Each elder rose, giving Lucien a solemn bow, before slipping out one by one into the night.
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Over the next two days, the clan worked in silence, packing essential supplies, rolling up scrolls, and loading carts with whatever could be carried quietly. The mortal members of the clan, those without spiritual root, were gathered in small group, told only that they were being moved for their safety. The clan's cultivators slipped through the compound like shadows, each one careful not to draw attention.
On the third night, as the stars stretched overhead and the compound lay quiet, the Stone Clan slipped out of their ancestral home.
They moved through the darkened fields, each step cautious, every sound muffled. It was a strange sight—a long line of families, elders, and young disciples, all shrouded in silence, led by the elders and Lucien at the front. They moved as quietly as thieves, each one afraid to look back.
It wasn't until they reached the outskirts of Thundercrest territory, arriving at the coast, and sailing towards Ironwave territory. It wasn't until two weeks of sailing on spirit boats that they reached the Iron Wave Sect's land that anyone dared to breathe easier. For the first time, they felt as if they were beyond Thundercrest's reach. The mountains of Ironwave were visible on the horizon, but the clan could see them, stretching high and solid against the night sky. They had a new destination—a new home.
Lucien, walking at the front, looked back at his people, his face calm but tired. They'd left their past behind, and whatever lay ahead, they would face it together.
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At least, that’s how I think it happened. The truth is, I wasn’t there in that meeting hall, didn’t hear those low voices in the flickering firelight. But looking back now, knowing what those first steps set in motion, I think I can understand the weight of it. The elders made their choice, and they did it for the clan—for the future that I would come to inherit, one careful step at a time.