he next morning, he began exploring his sect properly.
If he was going to survive one hundred years and avoid annihilation, he needed to know exactly what he possessed.
He started with the library. The moment he stepped inside, the scent of ancient wood and ink filled the air. Shelves stretched endlessly, layered with jade slips and thick manuals radiating faint spiritual light. He randomly picked one.
Top-tier heaven grade cultivation manual Dragon-elephant sutra. He grabbed another Top-tier heaven grade martial technique heaven suppressing finger
Another. He swallowed. Every single manual inside was at least top-tier Earth Level, and many Heaven tier ones. Sword arts, body refinement methods, soul cultivation scriptures, forbidden techniques each one capable of causing bloodshed if revealed outside.
And they were just… sitting here He quietly placed the manual back.
Next, he went to the armory. The doors opened with a low hum, revealing racks upon racks of weapons. Swords, spears, halberds, bowseach one shimmering with restrained power. Even without touching them, he could feel the sharpness in the air.
Top-tier weapons Every single one he reached out and grasped a sword.
The blade vibrated slightly, acknowledging him as sect master. Its aura alone was enough to make his 7th-layer Qi Refining cultivation tremble.
He quickly put it back before he embarrassed himself then came the alchemy hall.
Inside stood rows of furnaces, carved from rare metals and inlaid with spirit stones. Formation lines pulsed along their surfaces.
Top-tier alchemy furnaces Even an amateur could probably refine high-grade pills using these.
He exhaled slowly.
Finally, he made his way to the beast garden Compared to the other halls, it looked… empty.
No roaring demonic beasts. No ancient bloodline guardians. Just a vast enclosed valley.
And in the center Several eggs, that was it he frowned. "Don't tell me this is where you cut corners," he muttered.
Still, he stepped closer and activated the system interface to check their stats. The moment the information appeared.
His eyes nearly popped out, each egg possessed potential at least at the Mahayana Realm.
With further evolution possible He stared at the calm, unassuming shells. Mahayana.
He subconsciously reviewed the cultivation realms in his mind.
Body Refining.
Qi Refining.
Qi Transformation.
Foundation Establishment.
Core Formation.
Golden Core.
Nascent Soul.
Divine Transformation.
Palace Formation.
Dao Comprehension.
Dao Condensation.
Tribulation Transcendence.
Mahayana.
Each realm separated by terrifying gaps. Entire lifetimes were spent stuck between stages. In most regions, even a Nascent Soul cultivator could dominate kingdoms.
And Mahayana? That was the kind of existence that could overlook continents.
And these eggs— Were only at their starting potential. There might even be immortal realms beyond Mahayana.
Meanwhile, he a 7th layer of Qi Refining ant,
He looked at the eggs then at his own hands. Silence lingered in the beast garden.
After a long moment, he nodded seriously. "Good," he said. "At least my future pets won't look down on me forever."
He stared at the eggs for a long moment.
Then his expression turned serious.
"I need to cultivate first," he muttered. "If I don't, they might surpass me."
As if on cue Ding. The system's voice rang again. "Cough, cough… Master."
His eyelid twitched.
"Each of those beasts, upon birth, will possess strength at least at the Core Formation Realm."
Lin Xiaotian's cheeks slowly turned red. "Damn system," he muttered stiffly. "You don't need to say everything."
The system did not reply. He turned around with forced dignity and walked out of the beast garden as if nothing had happened.
Core Formation at birth. He was still in the 7th layer of Qi Refining. If those things hatched now, he might have to call them senior. Unacceptable.
He coughed lightly and straightened his robe, regaining his composure.
As sect master, he needed bearing.
He slowly made his way toward the main hall. Now that the sect had transformed into a proper cultivation sanctuary, the hall stood tall and imposing, radiating authority.
When he entered, he found a neatly stacked pile of documents placed on the central table.
On top of them lay a single sheet of paper. He picked it up.
It contained information about a sect recruitment competition.
Ten li away from the sect mountain lay a city. Each year, at this exact time seven days from now all low-level sects, along with dignitaries from stronger sects, would gather there to select disciples.
Young talents from surrounding regions would participate, hoping to enter the cultivation world. As soon as he finished reading
Ding. The system spoke again. "Mission issued: Participate in the sect recruitment event." A brief pause. "Objective: Recruit at least 30 disciples."
Lin Xiaotian blinked. "Thirty?" He looked around at the enormous, newly upgraded sect grounds.
Massive halls top tier territory but he can't recruit just anyone and also, it's just a sect without disciples was just a decorated ruin.
If he wanted to survive one hundred years and want to avoid annihilation he needed people.
He folded the paper carefully and placed it back on the table Seven days.
Thirty disciples he narrowed his eyes. "Fine," he muttered. "Let's see who's blind enough to join a sect no one's ever heard of."
Also, he has to get loyal people without big background he thought maybe he could recruit people with protagonist templates destroyed meridian orphan, broken engagement waste or a fallen young master he salivated as he thought about the possibilities.
Thirty disciples but not just any disciples. Lin Xiaotian leaned back in the sect master's chair, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.
If he recruited people with powerful backgrounds, strong families, or hidden backing, trouble would follow sooner or later. Those kinds of disciples came with baggage politics, enemies, obligations.
He needed loyalty and loyalty rarely came from those who already had everything.
His eyes slowly brightened. People who had been stepped on their entire lives. Then his thoughts drifted further.
What about those classic "protagonist templates"?
A genius with destroyed meridians, abandoned by his clan.
A once-promising young master whose engagement had been broken after his cultivation regressed.
A fallen heir, framed and cast out, forced to wander alone.
A so-called waste ridiculed by everyone, yet hiding terrifying potential.
The more he thought about it, the more his breathing quickened.
These were the types who, in any proper story, would rise against heaven itself.
And if they rose under his sect's banner the would be on his expense.
His sect would provide the resources, manuals, weapons and the protection after all in his territory even gods would kneel.
And in return he just will get Absolute loyalty.
After all, when someone is pulled from the mud and handed the sky, they remember who extended the hand.
A slow grin spread across his face. If he gathered enough of these "discarded protagonists"
Wouldn't that mean he'd be raising a nest of future monsters?
His imagination began running wild. One disciple overturning a kingdom, another suppressing an ancient clan.
He unconsciously wiped the corner of his mouth. "Yes…" he muttered to himself.
"Only people who have nowhere else to go." If he played this correctly, he wouldn't just build a sect.
He would build an army of heaven-defying lunatics who had been underestimated once before. And this time
They would rise together.