Chapter 32:

The protective formation of the Nine Heavens Moon Sect now pulsed like a living heartbeat, spreading a tranquil yet awe-inspiring power throughout the mountain range. Silvery runes danced faintly through the skies, cloaking the area in a veil of serenity. No external divine sense could penetrate. No threat could cross.

Li Xuan stood at the summit of the central peak, overlooking the newly awakened sect. Though the formation granted them protection, it did not grant them strength. That would take time—training, wisdom, and above all, people. People he could trust. People bound not by oaths of convenience but by legacy.

"System," he said softly, voice carried by the mountain wind, "Can you search for those fated to serve this sect? Not fabricated beings, not puppets—but those in this world whose ancestors once served the Nine Heavens Moon Sect. Those who have waited for our return. I need them now."

A moment passed before the system responded.

> Acknowledged. Scanning ancestral records and karmic threads. Criteria: Loyal bloodlines, generational vow holders, cultivation above Core Formation...

...Match found. Summoning protocols not required. They are already on their way.

Moonlight danced across the ancient carvings, activating long-buried runes beneath the stone paths. The protective formation of the Nine Heavens Moon Sect had reawakened — a breath taken after ten millennia of silence.

Li Xuan stood at the summit, spiritual sense expanded like a net across the mountain's border.

And then—he felt it.

A flicker.

Not hostile. Not urgent. But deliberate.

A presence walking up the north path.

He moved to the sect's outer gate. A cool wind rustled the reawakened banners as a lone figure approached. His robe was old-fashioned but immaculately kept, the embroidery along the sleeves glinting faintly under the moonlight.

The man halted just outside the gate. His eyes were calm, posture straight as a blade. Though strands of silver threaded his black hair, his skin was smooth and his aura dense—Soul Formation stage at least.

He gave a deep, respectful bow.

"Mo Chen of the Mo Clan. For ten thousand years, my family has guarded the tale. We passed it from one generation to the next: If ever the Nine Heavens Moon Sect stirs again, the heir will rise from the dust of obscurity. My great-grandfather served under your last Sect Master. I've come to fulfill that oath."

Li Xuan met his gaze and returned the bow.

"You have kept the flame alive," he said softly. "And now it burns again."

Not long after, another pulse stirred from the south.

She walked as if floating — robes of sea green brushing the ground like mist. Her long silver braid shimmered with natural spiritual qi. Despite her mature features, her beauty glowed from within, undimmed by time or hardship.

"Qing Yue of the Bai Clan. We are alchemists — our ancestor brewed the Moon-Essence Elixirs within your walls. Each daughter of our line was born with the Moon Sigil. It faded over the centuries… until last night. I woke with it glowing. I came immediately."

Li Xuan nodded once. "Then the Nine Heavens welcomes you home."

From the eastern footpath emerged a quiet scholar in flowing ash-gray robes, her steps light but deliberate. She wore silver-rimmed spectacles—not out of frailty, but refinement—and her long hair was tied in a scholar's knot.

> "My name is Lan Feiyan of the Lan Clan. For generations, we kept the Moonlight Codex, a fragmented manual no one could decipher. My grandmother told me it belonged to a sect that once stood higher than the stars. Last night, the script on our copy began to glow. I knew then—my duty was to return it to its origin."

She bowed deeply, then stepped aside and unslung a scroll case bound in silk and moonsteel. She presented it to Li Xuan with both hands.

> "The Nine Heavens Moon Sect's knowledge should not remain buried. If you'll have me, I wish to serve in the library, to preserve what once was—and to help rebuild what should be."

Li Xuan accepted the scroll case with solemn care.

"You are welcomed, Lan Feiyan. The Moon remembers your name."

From the west arrived a towering man clad in beast-leather armor, his presence deep as a mountain's root.

"Zhao Lei of the Zhao Clan. Warrior lineage. We trained in secret, guarding the techniques passed from an ancestor who once stood at the gates of this very sect. Our family vowed that, should the Moon rise again, one of us must return. I am that one."

From the sky descended a woman riding a spirit crane, her robes flaring like falling snow. Her cultivation was clear—late Nascent Soul—and her eyes were wet with awe.

"Yun Rou of the Yun Clan. I never thought I would see this place. We memorized the stars above this mountain, generation after generation. I've spent a hundred years preparing."

Then came others:

"Han Feng of the Han Clan," said an icy-eyed man with spiritual frost trailing behind him. "My clan preserved the sect's ancient formation diagrams and kept the ice-type cultivation art alive."

"Jiang Shou of the Jiang Clan," said a barrel-chested cultivator. "We built spirit beacons underground to trace the sect's location. The moment they lit up again—we knew."

"Wei Lan of the Wei Clan," said a talisman master with scrolls bound in copper wire. "Our ancestor sealed the forbidden techniques in runes no one could decode... until now."

"Fei Xiang of the Fei Clan," came a voice from a thin man with glowing eyes. "I was raised on your sect's strategies. I have dreamed of this day all my life."

"Nie Mian of the Nie Clan," said the last of the ten, a broad-shouldered man carrying a long black case. "Our forge preserved the Nine Heavens smithing chants. I brought our finest sealed blades."

Ten elders had come. Each Soul Formation, Golden Core, or Nascent Soul. Each bearing a legacy.

Then came the sect servants—each chosen, each prepared.

Han Tiesheng, the blade forger of the Han Clan, carried a chest of sealed weaponry. "My grandfather forged Moonsteel blades before your fall. I have continued his work."

Lin Daohai, the aged cultivator who immediately walked to the spirit field, knelt and touched the earth. "It remembers our lineage," he whispered. "It remembers us."

"Shu Mei of the Shu Clan," said a gentle woman as she knelt in the spirit fields. "I brought the seeds passed through ten generations."

"Ren Qu of the Ren Clan," whispered an aged cultivator touching the soil. "It remembers us."

Three medicine field workers — not farmers, but silent caretakers of spirit earth.

"Lan Ji of the Lan Clan," said a sharp-eyed woman, her beast companion purring nearby. "I brought the oath-bound guardian spirit."

"Hong Tao of the Hong Clan," said a round-faced cook. "My clan recipes once fed Heaven-ranked geniuses."

"Mi Rong of the Mi Clan," said a lean man. "Spiritual fire in the kitchen—my specialty."

"Xie Luan of the Xie Clan," said an elegant scholar. "My scrolls carry sect lineages. I never stopped remembering."

"Qin Heng of the Qin Clan," said a silver-robed man bowing low. "I bring with me the last batch of starsteel and unfinished blades."

Wang Bo, Luo Heng, and Tang Yu—the gatekeepers. All Golden Core cultivators, stoic and silent, they took positions at the three main sect paths with reverent bows.

By nightfall, many had returned.

Elders, gatekeepers, cooks, caretakers, craftsmen, and a record keeper. Their cultivation ranged from Foundation Establishment to Mahayana. None looked fragile. None looked lost.

They had waited. For ten thousand years, their clans had waited.

Li Xuan stood before them all, moonlight pooling around him.

"I am Li Xuan," he said. "And by fate or heaven's will, I have inherited the legacy of the Nine Heavens Moon Sect. You did not come for power. You came because you remembered. And because of you, the Moon has risen once more."

With a gesture, he summoned sect tokens for each: inscribed by the system itself with his own Golden Core essence.

The ten elders received silver-etched medallions of authority.

The three gatekeepers bowed in solemn synchrony.

The cooks wept quietly, remembering tales of preparing dishes for Heaven-ranked geniuses.

The medicine caretakers knelt and touched the soil.

The blade-forger unsheathed a blade that sang.

The scribe unrolled a scroll that bore the names of the founding ancestors.

A hum echoed through the valley as the core of the sect acknowledged its new guardians.

From the heavens above, the moonlight thickened—a sign of approval from the Dao itself.

The Nine Heavens Moon Sect had awakened. And its family had come home.