When I declared world unification, the words did not vanish into the sky. They fell down into the mountains, the forests, and the distant kingdoms like sparks, landing where old powers still sat in silence.
If I wanted to unite worlds, I first had to unite my own.
That meant the sects.
The great sects of Solaryn had stood apart from the empire for centuries. They watched kings rise and fall and emperors burn and fade but rarely moved unless the world itself cracked. Some guarded sacred arts; others trained true monsters in human skin. Now, for the first time, they all received the same message:
The Flame Prince summons you.
They came. Not because they were obedient, but because they were curious.
The summit was held in the Sky Mirror Valley, where the lake reflected the heavens so clearly it looked like another world below. Floating platforms of crystal hovered over the water, each bearing the crest of a sect: sword, lotus, thunder, shadow, and more.
I stood at the center on a raised disk, in simple robes, with no crown. Only flame.
On my left were the Empress Sisters, Valtryn and Morvessa. On my right, Lian Xueyi, Yue Xiang, and Lei Mira stood like a second wall of power. Faith and Luna watched above from a floating sigil, ready if things turned ugly.
The first to speak was the old master of the Azure Sky Sword Sect. He had a long white beard and eyes like cutting wind. "Emperor of Solaryn," he said slowly, "we acknowledge your strength. You defeated rebels, crushed forbidden magic, and survived the Rift. But why should the sects kneel? We answer to the Dao, not to thrones."
"I don't ask you to kneel," I replied. "I ask you to choose."
A murmur swept across the platforms.
"The worlds are changing," I continued. "Rifts tear the sky, old curses return, and madmen like Helmor try to feed darkness with our fear. Alone, you can defend a mountain or a forest. But together, we can defend everything."
The mistress of the Scarlet Lotus Valley narrowed her eyes. "And what do we gain by swearing loyalty to you?" Her beauty was cold and sharp as ice. Her disciples behind her watched me like predators.
"Protection," I said simply. "A seat at the table where worlds decide their fate. Freedom to grow without watching your sects be hunted or used by corrupted courts."
"And what do you demand?" another asked.
I answered without hiding. "Oaths. That your sects will not stand with darkness. That when the worlds bleed together, you will stand with Solaryn, not against it."
Silence again. The wind rippled the lake below us, scattering reflections.
For a moment, I could feel it—the weight of their judgment. They had lived longer than me and seen more than me. But they had also grown comfortable with surviving instead of changing.
Morvessa spoke then, her tone soft but firm. "You all know what happens when power hides in its own mountain. Corruption takes the plains. We stood apart in our past lives. We watched our worlds burn. Never again."
Valtryn stepped forward too, aura heavy as war drums. "This man pulled us from ruin, broke our curses, and gave our strength purpose. If you fear giving loyalty, then answer this: who else can you trust when the sky itself opens?"
The sect leaders looked at each other.
One by one, the ancient hesitation began to crack.
The Azure Sky Sword Master bowed first. "Then the Azure Sky Sword Sect will lend blade and heart to Solaryn. We swear, before heaven and lake, to stand with you against any darkness."
The disciples behind him knelt in perfect unison.
Next came the Scarlet Lotus Mistress. Her lips curved into a small smile, dangerous but sincere. "The Scarlet Lotus blooms where blood falls. Let it bloom beside your flame, Mukul Solaryn. We swear allegiance—as long as your light remains true."
After that, it became like falling dominoes.
Thunderpeak Sect. Phantom Shadow Pavilion. Silver Star Temple. One after another, banners lowered in respect. One after another, ancient sects swore—some loudly, some quietly, some with reluctance, but all with intent.
When the last one bowed, the sky itself seemed to ripple. The lake shone brighter, reflecting banners and robes and a young emperor who suddenly felt the weight of a thousand oaths.
I bowed back to them, not as a ruler, but as a man accepting a shared burden. "Then from this day onward, Solaryn is not just an empire. It is a covenant."
With the sects beside us, the world changed quickly.
I did not start the expansion with conquest. I started it with visits.
First came the neighboring kingdoms—small, proud nations that once eyed Solaryn with fear or greed. They watched us crush demons and rebellions, then form alliances with sects they thought untouchable. Their kings hesitated.
So I went to them myself.
To the Kingdom of Yerenna, by the shining sea, I came with ships full of grain and healers. "You've lost too much to storms and war," I told their queen. "Take my aid, take my protection. In return, stand with me when the other worlds press in."
She stared long at the Empress Sisters, at the sect emissaries, at the widows turned officers—and she knelt. "Then let Yerenna become Solaryn's shield to the sea," she said.
To the Iron Marches in the north, where warlords ruled broken forts, I brought Lei Mira and Yue Xiang. We didn't come with armies. We came with tools.
Lei Mira defeated their strongest champion in three strikes. Yue Xiang cut down their cursed totems that had haunted them for years. When the warlords saw strength without cruelty, they bent. "We'll follow your banner," they vowed, "so long as it never chains us the way the last empires did."
To the Forest Kingdom of Neralis, where spirits and humans walked together, Faith and Lian Xueyi came with me. We healed their old rift-scars and closed wounds in the trees that had bled for decades. Their druids blessed us with leaves of silver and gold, and their elders murmured, "If you mean to unite worlds, start with ours. We will walk beside you."
Kingdom by kingdom, border by border, the map changed.
Not painted in blood, but in shared vows.
There were battles, of course—ambitious kings who refused peace, demon cults who saw our unity as a threat. When force was needed, we used it, swift and precise. The Empress Sisters commanded battle lines, sects moved like storms across the land, and Solaryn's legions fought with hearts that had known both suffering and hope.
By the end of that first great expansion, the neighboring lands no longer looked at Solaryn with suspicion. They looked at it as a pillar—sometimes feared, often questioned, but undeniably trusted more than the chaos that lurked at the world's edges.
One night, standing over a map lit by starlight, I saw the new borders of the empire—no longer a lone circle, but a web connecting rivers, mountains, forests, and seas.
Valtryn traced the lines with her finger. "From a broken court," she said softly, "to this."
Morvessa watched with tired eyes. "Unity is forming," she murmured. "But you know it's still fragile. A single crack in trust and it falls."
"I know," I answered. "That's why we move slowly abroad… and carefully at home."
Because even as the kingdoms submitted, I understood something important: this wasn't about building the largest empire. It was about building the first bridge.
One day soon, that bridge would stretch beyond just kingdoms and sects. It would reach other worlds.
And when that day came, I wanted to stand there not as a tyrant, but as someone who had already learned how hard, and how beautiful, unification really was.