Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 516: REBUILDING THE SECT

Aaron and Lin Guo stepped back into the First Realm once more, their feet touching the familiar soil of the mortal world.

"Hmm?"

Aaron paused mid-step.

A subtle but insistent pressure washed over him, like invisible hands pressing against his chest, urging him upward, demanding that he ascend and leave this lower plane behind.

The realm itself was rejecting his presence, trying to force him out as though he were an unwelcome intruder too powerful for its fragile laws.

"Hmph." Aaron snorted softly, his expression unchanging. "I’ll leave when I decide to leave."

With effortless control over his soul, he brushed aside the realm’s suppression. It crumbled against his will like dry leaves in a storm.

In terms of raw power and rank, he stood far above anything this mortal realm could contain.

The cultivators were equivalent F-rank to S-rank hunters.

The realm’s feeble attempt to prevent "bullying" from higher beings meant nothing to him. He ignored it completely.

Together, the two of them made their way toward the dilapidated sect grounds.

"Hmm. First things first," Aaron said, scanning the ruins with a calm gaze.

"We need to fix the sect. The building itself is what attracts disciples. No one joins a place that looks ready to fall apart."

Lin Guo nodded slowly, then scratched the back of his head, a nervous laugh escaping him. "That’s true... but I don’t have the finances for even basic repairs, let alone anything grand."

"That’s the easiest part to fix," Aaron replied without hesitation.

He snapped his fingers.

In an instant, the entire sect, every broken beam, shattered tile, and rotting pillar, collapsed inward with terrifying precision.

The destruction was absolute and silent, as though the structures had simply decided to cease existing.

Dust rose in thick clouds, only to be swept away by an invisible force.

Within seconds, the grounds were cleared completely, leaving nothing but bare earth beneath a wide blue sky.

"Ahhh!" Lin Guo yelped, stumbling back a step. "I didn’t say you should destroy the sect!"

"To rebuild properly," Aaron said evenly, "you must first destroy what’s broken beyond saving."

Without another word, he extended his hand.

Crimson flames laced with molten earth erupted from his palm, Terra Ignis, the fusion of primal fire and unyielding stone.

The power surged forward and coalesced into an enormous, perfectly smooth platform of dark volcanic rock.

It rose from the ground like a mountain being born in reverse, stretching hundreds of meters wide and perfectly level.

Then Aaron layered Primordial Gale and Transcendent Space-Time into the construct. Winds howled in controlled spirals beneath the massive slab, lifting it effortlessly into the air until it hovered serenely above the sect grounds, defying gravity with graceful ease.

Lin Guo stared upward, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with disbelief.

To him, the sight was incomprehensible.

Aaron moved like a god casually reshaping reality, creating floating mountains, bending elements, warping space itself. Every motion carried the weight of absolute authority.

"Now," Aaron continued, his voice calm and focused, "to build the sect."

He raised both hands. Power flowed outward in shimmering waves.

At the very center of the floating platform, a colossal sect hall began to take shape.

It rose story by story, tier by tier, until it towered two hundred meters into the sky, a majestic pagoda whose presence alone seemed to command the heavens.

The roof tiles gleamed like polished black obsidian, catching the sunlight in deep, liquid reflections.

The walls were clad in flawless jade panels, each one etched with flowing patterns of clouds, mountains, and mythical beasts.

Golden ornaments, intricate lanterns, hanging bells, and spiraling filigree, adorned every edge and corner, swaying gently in the high-altitude breeze.

Perched along the eaves and rooftops stood masterfully sculpted statues: coiling dragons with scales that seemed to ripple, proud phoenixes with feathers of living flame, and noble Qilin whose eyes glowed with quiet wisdom.

Each figure radiated an aura of ancient majesty.

Yet for all the extravagance of the exterior, the interior was even more astonishing.

Aaron had folded space itself.

The moment one stepped inside, the hall expanded impossibly, its internal volume easily ten times greater than what the outside dimensions suggested.

Vast chambers stretched in every direction, ceilings soaring high enough to feel like open sky, corridors branching into training grounds, libraries, meditation chambers, and treasure vaults.

Rows of supreme-quality chairs lined the main audience hall, each carved from spirit wood and cushioned with silk that shimmered like liquid moonlight.

At the far end rose the sect master’s throne, grand, imposing, and unmistakably regal.

Flanking it were slightly lesser but still magnificent seats for the elders.

The throne itself felt alive with power. Its dark jade frame was inlaid with veins of star-gold, and the backrest rose like the wings of a sleeping dragon.

Sitting upon it would make any occupant appear larger than life.

But Aaron’s final touch was the most subtle, and the most profound.

He warped the spatial laws within the hall so that no matter where a disciple stood, be it at the very back of the enormous chamber or pressed against the farthest wall, they would feel the sect master’s throne infinitely close.

The distance collapsed in perception alone.

Every gaze directed toward the central seat carried the sensation of intimacy, of being seen and judged directly by the one who sat there. No one could hide.

No one could feel distant.

The effect was both humbling and inspiring.

Aaron had also woven subtle spatial and wind laws into the grand hall itself.

The sect master’s voice carried effortlessly to every corner, no matter how vast the interior stretched, clear and resonant, as though the speaker stood right beside each listener.

At the same time, Primordial Gale flowed in gentle, invisible currents: it hushed side conversations, murmurs, and restless whispers among the disciples, rendering them inaudible.

Yet if the sect master wished, that same gale could amplify his words, turning a quiet instruction into thunder that shook the very jade walls.

With the main hall complete, Aaron turned his attention to the residences.

First came the disciples’ quarters, a harmonious fusion of classical cultivation architecture and sleek, modern elegance.

Towering pagodas rose skyward like living skyscrapers, their curved roofs layered in shimmering tiles that caught the sunlight in soft prismatic glints.

Each structure stood tall and proud, connected by elegant jade bridges that arched gracefully through the clouds.

A spatial mechanism hummed quietly at the heart of the complex: disciples needed only to step onto glowing teleportation arrays, and in the blink of an eye, they arrived at their personal rooms, no stairs, no long walks, just pure convenience.

The residences were strictly tiered by rank, reflecting status and merit.

Outer sect disciples occupied the first through twentieth floors.

Each received a private chamber spacious enough to rival a presidential suite in the mortal world, polished wooden floors, wide windows overlooking misty peaks, comfortable beds draped in spirit silk, and small cultivation alcoves lined with spirit-gathering cushions.

Luxurious by any mortal standard, yet modest compared to what lay higher up.

Inner sect disciples claimed the thirtieth to fortieth floors.

Their rooms were twice as large, twice as opulent, marble baths fed by spiritual hot springs, personal meditation gardens suspended in pocket dimensions, and walls inscribed with faint arrays that nourished the body even during sleep.

Core disciples resided on the fiftieth through sixtieth floors.

Here the chambers grew truly extravagant: entire suites with cascading waterfalls of liquid qi, private libraries stocked with rare jade slips, and training rooms that simulated deadly environments for combat practice.

At the pinnacle seventieth to hundredth floors, stood the Hall of Special Disciples.

These floors belonged exclusively to the personal disciples of elders and the sect master himself.

Each disciple claimed an entire floor as their private domain: sprawling courtyards, hidden treasure vaults, secluded hot-spring pavilions, and arrays that accelerated cultivation by several times the norm.