The morning sun was just beginning to touch the white coral cliffs when the forty transport galleons glided back into Void Lotus harbor.
The harbor basin had never been busier in the history of the archipelago.
One hundred thousand newly arrived disciples disembarked in orderly columns along the stone quays. For decades, Ancestor Vesper had told them that the southern alliance was a lawless bandit horde that murdered captives and burned sect scrolls.
Instead, the disciples found clean white limestone terraces, fragrant herb gardens, and disciplined sentries standing at attention.
Princess Valeria’s imperial soldiers helped elderly academy instructors carry heavy cedar chests, while field doctors from the Vance clan distributed bowls of hot ginseng congee and steamed pork buns.
Claire Vance stood on the harbor terrace, addressing the assembled families with calm authority. She assigned housing in the eastern valleys, promised food rations for every child, and integrated their spatial formation masters into the island’s defense grid.
Watching from the main dock, Princess Valeria lowered her brass spyglass, shaking her head in genuine awe.
“One hundred thousand cultivators in a single night,” Valeria murmured. “And thirty warships with intact spatial sails. In the capital, mobilizing a force of this magnitude requires six months of imperial edicts and ten million gold ingots.”
