The great hall remained silent long after the attendant had left.
The air itself felt unsettled, as though something had been removed without permission.
At last, the sect master spoke.
"He did not touch the ground."
His voice was steady, but the words landed heavily.
Several elders looked up at once.
"What do you mean?" one asked.
The vice sect master answered instead. "When he descended, there was no sound. No dust. No ripple of spiritual energy."
"That could be a movement technique," an elder said quickly. "Some light-body arts—"
"No," another interrupted. "I watched carefully. There was no momentum. No landing."
Murmurs spread.
"He stood in the air," someone whispered.
The hall grew tense.
An elder frowned deeply. "True flight is impossible."
Silence followed those words.
The sect master slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again.
"When I was young," he said, "the previous sect master once told me a story."
All eyes turned to him.
"At that time, it was already considered a legend. Even he said it might not be true."
The sect master paused, then repeated the words as he remembered them.
"Only those who have established Foundation can leave the earth behind."
The hall erupted.
"That's impossible!"
"Foundation Establishment hasn't appeared in centuries!"
"Even reaching Qi Level Eight is considered peak now!"
The vice sect master's expression darkened. "That is precisely why this matters."
A heavy realization settled.
If the attendant truly flew—
Then he did not belong to their era.
Fear crept into the hall, quiet but sharp.
"What if this is calamity?" an elder asked. "A higher realm interfering with us?"
"Then we should seal the area," another said. "Evacuate mortals."
The sect master raised his hand.
Slowly, the hall quieted.
He looked older than before.
"If we do nothing," he said, "the portal may expand."
Or vanish.
He did not need to say the rest.
Everyone knew.
Spiritual energy had been declining for decades.
Spirit veins were thinning.
Elders were aging.
Young disciples struggled to even sense Qi.
"If this door closes," the sect master continued, "it may never open again."
The vice sect master stepped forward. "And if this is the cause of our world's decline—or its solution—then avoiding it will change nothing."
No one argued.
They could not.
At last, the sect master straightened.
"I will enter."
The hall reacted instantly.
"Absolutely not!"
"You are the pillar of the sect!"
"If something happens—"
He silenced them with a single glance.
"If this is calamity," he said, "then it should take me first."
The vice sect master stepped beside him without hesitation.
"Then I will go as well," he said. "If it is danger, we face it together. If it is salvation, the sect must not lose its head."
No further words were needed.
They moved beneath the sky.
The portal hung high above the mountain peak, silent and vast.
It did not radiate pressure.
It did not pulse.
It simply existed.
The elders followed at a distance, unease thick in their chests.
Someone finally spoke the truth they were all avoiding.
"We cannot fly."
There were no formations prepared.
No artifacts capable of reaching such height.
The sect master stepped directly beneath the portal and looked up.
"If you are truly an Immortal Realm," he said calmly, "then we accept the invitation."
The vice sect master joined him.
For a breath, nothing happened.
Then space shifted.
There was no force.
No pulling.
Only a sudden absence of weight.
In the next instant, both figures vanished.
The sky remained unchanged.
Panic erupted below.
"They're gone!"
"What just happened?!"
The portal returned to silence, as though nothing had occurred.
Above them, the sky was empty.
Elsewhere—
The sect master staggered as his feet touched solid ground.
Clouds drifted beneath him.
The air was pure.
Restrained.
Unfamiliar.
Mountains floated in the distance, vast and unreachable.
Before them stood the same attendant.
Qingshi inclined his head.
"You have arrived," he said.
"The Lord of this Immortal Realm awaits."
End of Chapter 14