Gideon went to the sect hall, asking for directions along the way, and arrived at his destination after a slow, two-hour walk. The journey had been arduous, the path winding through vast sect and steep inclines, leaving him exhausted. The sect hall loomed ahead, an imposing structure of ancient stone and intricate carvings.
As he approached the entrance, he couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and trepidation. The hall was a testament to the sect's long history and power, its grandeur only adding to his sense of smallness in this vast, unfamiliar world. Gideon took a deep breath, steeling himself before stepping inside.
The elder manning the office was stern and serious in his work, his sharp eyes scanning the room with an air of authority. Though in truth, he was bored of the job and used this facade to hide his helplessness about his position. His long, grey beard and the deep lines on his face suggested years of service, and his piercing gaze seemed to see right through Gideon as he approached.
"Name," the elder said, his voice carrying a weight of command, as soon as Gideon slowly shambled into the scene, leaning heavily on a makeshift cane made of wood to help him walk. Each step was labored, his legs protesting after the grueling trek.
"Gideon Blackwood," Gideon replied, taking huge breaths afterward. It was clear that the walk had been difficult for him. He stood there, panting slightly, while the elder rifled through a stack of parchment, his movements precise and methodical. The room was filled with the sound of rustling paper, adding to the tension.
After a few minutes, which felt like an eternity to Gideon, the elder finally spoke again, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scrutinized the document in front of him. "Hmmm... Mortal aptitude disciple, and yet you already have 10,000 contribution points under your name. You obviously have big connections in the sect."
The elder's tone was neutral, but there was a hint of curiosity and perhaps even suspicion in his voice. Gideon felt a flicker of anxiety but kept his expression neutral. The elder continued, "None of my business. Proceed to your left and get your sect uniform and other valuables. May the golden lotus shine bright upon your path," he said, his voice now carrying a note of finality.
Gideon nodded, offering a respectful bow before turning to his left. The path led to another room, where a young disciple awaited him with a neatly folded sect uniform and a small bundle of essentials. The young disciple handed them to Gideon with a polite smile. "Welcome to the sect, Brother Gideon," he said, his tone warm and welcoming.
Gideon thanked him and accepted the items, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.
"Your courtyard will be on the east side of the sect, Brother Gideon. Courtyard number 517. Would you like me to summon a carriage for your use?" the young disciple asked gently. He was also an outer disciple like Gideon Blackwood, but he had not fared well in the entrance ceremony, finishing near the bottom of his peers. This was why he looked at Gideon like a celebrity—the one who had finished first in the latest entrance ceremony. From his experience, those who achieved such a feat were rarely simple people. The whole bunch of them consisted mostly of cultivation geniuses and prodigies who were destined to rise sharply once they embarked on the path of defying the heavens.
Gideon paused, considering the offer. His legs still ached from the long walk, and the idea of a carriage was tempting. However, he didn't want to appear weak or overly reliant on assistance in his first days at the sect. "No need for a carriage. I can manage," he replied with a faint smile, though the effort it took to mask his exhaustion was clear.
The young disciple's eyes widened slightly in admiration. "Very well, Brother Gideon. Your determination is admirable… as always," he said, bowing respectfully. "If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask."
As Gideon made his way towards the east side of the sect, the path took him through lush gardens and past several training grounds where other disciples were practicing various martial arts and cultivation techniques. The air was filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and focused grunts, a testament to the rigorous training the sect demanded.
He then passed by rows of opulent courtyards, each one as silent as a grave under the watchful gaze of the sect's towering architecture. Another hour of slow, deliberate steps brought him to the 517th courtyard. As he entered, a sudden blur of motion nearly collided with him.
"Your servant is at your command, Master Gideon!" The voice came from a young girl who appeared to be around his age. She stood before him, her demeanor a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying her anxiety about the new master she now served.
Gideon regarded her with a calm gaze, his expression neutral yet curious. He had grown accustomed to the dynamics of power and servitude, having overseen many servants back in his family estate. Despite his familiarity with such roles, he was not indifferent to the responsibility that came with them.
"What's your name?" Gideon inquired gently, sensing the girl's apprehension. He spoke with a tone meant to reassure rather than intimidate, though he knew the reputation some masters held within the sect.
"My name is Emily, Master," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes flickered nervously, darting between Gideon's face and the ground beneath her feet. Emily had heard unsettling tales from fellow servants in the sect—stories of harsh masters who ruled with fear and punishment. She silently hoped that her new master would prove different, perhaps even kind.
Gideon studied Emily for a moment longer, noting the innocence in her demeanor and the vulnerability that shone through her fear. He understood the weight of expectations placed upon him now, not just as a disciple of the sect but as a master to this young girl.
"Emily, there's no need to be afraid," Gideon said softly, offering a reassuring smile. "I will not punish you severely as long as you do what is expected of you. You are safe here with me."
Emily's eyes widened slightly, surprised by Gideon's gentle demeanor. She dared a timid smile in return, cautiously hopeful that her fears might have been unfounded after all.
"Thank you, Master Gideon," she murmured, a hint of relief coloring her voice.
"Now, please prepare something for me to eat. It's going to be a long night," Gideon sighed wearily as he shuffled into his own courtyard in slow careful steps.