The portal's light slowly faded, dissolving into golden veils that returned to the universe's invisible fabric. And there they stood.
No longer surrounded by austere mountains or dense forests, but facing an indescribable vastness. The Eryndor Empire stretched in all directions like a tangible dream. Yet, despite all its beauty, the dominant feeling among the newcomers wasn't awe, but hesitation.
The villagers' feet touched soil that felt too sacred to tread. The wide streets, paved with a translucent, resilient material, reflected their faces like liquid mirrors. The majestic buildings around them curved in graceful arcs, woven from crystal, gold, and living light. But despite the visible marvel, the tribe's soul still bore deep scars. Mothers clutched their children to their chests, eyes scanning every corner, fearing ambushes that would never come. Weary warriors glanced over their shoulders as if expecting enemy steel at any moment. Even Ankar, now stepping onto that new soil, hesitated. The place was too beautiful. Too perfect. How could they trust it? Doubt hung like an invisible mist.
Then, Orion stepped forward. Without a word, he walked among them—a presence that calmed the winds. As he passed, the primordial aura surrounding him subtly expanded. It didn't press, didn't impose... it simply encompassed. A child, hidden behind her mother until then, peeked out. She reached out, her tiny fingers brushing the edge of Orion's cloak. A wave of gentle warmth flowed through her small body, and she laughed—a sound unheard for so long: the laughter of safety. That laugh broke the ice. The murmurs ceased. Troubled hearts began, very slowly, to relax. The people of the Kanar Tribe, wounded and wary, began to breathe—for the first time, without fear.
Orion stopped before them. His gaze swept across each face, absorbing not just their physical presence, but everything they carried within: doubt, pain, promises. His voice finally broke the silence.
"Welcome to the Eryndor Empire. Here, you will no longer be mere survivors. You will be seeds—and this empire, the fertile soil where you will flourish. Your names, your stories, your struggles... all will be honored. This is the place where dignity is rebuilt, where the spirit will no longer be crushed under the weight of injustice."
Silence lingered for a few more seconds. Then, as if an invisible seal had been broken, something shifted. People began to move. Slowly, with timid but determined steps, they crossed the boundaries of the central square. Lira, a young woman with wide eyes and a constant air of curiosity, was among the first to look up at the towers that seemed to touch the sky. The beauty was so overwhelming that her eyes filled with tears. It was the cry of one who realizes that perhaps, just perhaps, life might soon be more than survival.
Orion led them onward, guiding with calm gestures.
"This is the Plaza of Destiny" he said, pointing to the vast clearing of golden marble at the empire's heart. "Here, we will celebrate our victories. Here, we will rise after every fall. And here, together, we will decide who we wish to become."
Brilliant fountains sprayed crystalline water in perfect spirals, while trees with golden leaves swayed gently despite the lack of wind, as if dancing to a melody only the wise could hear. At the center, empty pedestals awaited names. Heroes yet unborn. Stories yet to unfold.
"These pedestals are for you" Orion added. "For you will be the first to build the myths of this place."
The tribe's breath became collective. One soul, divided into many bodies. Yet, doubt still flickered in some eyes.
"My lord..." Ankar spoke, his voice still marked by decades of pain. "How... can we live in this place? How do we become worthy of it?"
Orion approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You are already worthy. Not because you were born to be, but because you survived what would have destroyed any other people. Dignity is not granted by palaces—it is earned by the integrity of those who refuse to destroy themselves."
And then, he led them further. The Library of the Ancients rose before them.
"Here lies the knowledge of all ages. Magic, history, cultivation. Use it. Become masters of wisdom."
People touched the walls with reverence. Some knelt. Others simply wept silently. Next, they walked to the Immortal Academy.
"Here, you will train. Cultivate your potential. You will become not just stronger, but wiser. The empire needs protectors. Leaders. Teachers. And you will be all of that."
The flame ignited. Lira approached Orion once more.
"My lord... I wish to learn. Not just to fight... but to understand the world."
"And you shall" he replied. "Your desire is what this empire values most: will."
At the end of the grand tour, the villagers were guided to a serene, enchanted valley nestled between gentle hills and trees with azure canopies. It was there that their new homes awaited. The houses rose from the earth as if born from the soil in perfect harmony. Their walls, made of radiant golden wood, intertwined with living vines pulsing with energy. Each house was unique, resonating with the essence of its future family. Their shapes followed no fixed pattern—they adapted to the soul of each dweller. It was as if the houses chose their owners, and not the other way around.
Lira, enchanted, stopped before a circular structure with suspended balconies and a garden of white flowers that bloomed at her touch.
"This will be my home..." she whispered, eyes misty. For the first time, she felt she belonged to something greater. That she, finally, was seen.
Around her, the tribe explored with cautious excitement. Every detail—from the paths paved with gleaming minerals to the floating lanterns hovering weightlessly—seemed lifted from an ancient tale told on cold nights.
Ankar watched it all in silence. But his mind was already working. There was beauty, yes. But also responsibility. He knew that if this empire was born from a god's will, its survival would depend on mortal wisdom. He resolved to seek Orion.
In the Council Chamber, the doors opened silently. The grand hall shimmered in a blend of sunlight and silence. Orion was there, seated on his throne. His gaze turned immediately to the elder.
"Ankar, welcome."
"Lord Orion" replied the leader, bowing respectfully. "Our tribe is integrating with admiration and gratitude... but also with doubts. Not from lack of faith in you, but because we still don't know how to be part of something so... vast."
Orion leaned forward slightly.
"Speak, Ankar. I wish to hear every thought."
The elder took a deep breath.
"Permit me to propose three actions that, I believe, would solidify our people's trust in this new world."
Orion nodded.
"First" said Ankar, "I propose the formation of a Council of Families. A rotating group of representatives elected by their communities. This will assure our kin that their voices echo in this palace—not through pleas, but by right."
"Excellent" murmured Orion. "Participation shapes loyalty. Approved. And it will expand. Every people who arrive here will also have a voice. We shall rule with many eyes, not just mine."
Ankar smiled, gaining confidence.
"Secondly, I propose cultural festivals. Celebrations where every member can express their identity—dances, foods, garments, art. We will not be silent survivors, but creators of a living civilization."
"An empire is not just power, but culture" replied Orion. "Let the tradition begin. The Festival of Ascension shall be held every lunar cycle. Let art and ancestry flourish."
The elder hesitated briefly and then concluded:
"Finally, I propose a Shared Wisdom Program. Let our youth learn cultivation, yes, but also philosophy, history, and the traditions of other tribes who may join us. Let us be more than warriors—let us be bridges."
Orion stood, descending the throne steps until he stood face-to-face with the leader.
"You have grasped the essence of what we are building. This empire will not be remembered for its weapons, but for its wisdom. All three proposals shall be enacted at once."
He raised his arm.
『 DING 』
『 New Administrative Policy: Council of Families 』
『 New Tradition: Festival of Ascension 』
『 New Wisdom Core: Integrated Knowledge Schools 』
"Thank you for hearing me" said the elder, bowing.
Orion answered with a smile:
"You are not my subject, Ankar. You are one of the founders of this empire. And founders... do not ask permission. They build."
Outside, life began to pulse. The Kanar were discovering the magic of the everyday: wells providing curative water, gardens responding to farmers' intent, walls projecting past histories when touched. Children ran laughing through the fountains, eyes alight not with the sun's reflection, but with possibility. Tamur, the tribe's old blacksmith, was already setting up his forge at the village edge, marveling at the living metals he'd found.
"With these, I can forge divine tools" he said, as his son watched in awe.
In the plaza, Lira and other young women organized an ancestral dance passed down by their grandmothers. With scarves, instruments, and improvisation, the first steps of a living culture took shape on the immortal stones.
And above all, the sky was clear. For the first time in centuries, no threat loomed over the village. There was only... a beginning.
From the highest, most distant tower, Orion watched it all. His eyes traced the fields, the houses, the smiles. And deep within his eternal essence, he felt something not even the Tao could name: Purpose.