The first thing I felt was cold.
Not the gentle kind that nips at your fingers. This was the bone-deep, soul-freezing sort of cold that made every breath feel like inhaling needles. My eyelids fluttered, heavy as iron, and the sharp sting of winter air invaded my lungs.
I jerked upright.
Pain exploded in my skull.
"...Ow." I clutched my head, fingers digging into my hair. The world spun in a dizzy blur of snow, jagged black mountains, and a sky the color of dying embers.
This wasn't my room.
My room had a fan with a squeaky bearing, a half-broken chair, and a blinking cursor on a laptop screen full of unwritten chapters.
This… was a cliff.
Literally.
I was sitting cross-legged at the very edge of a narrow stone platform carved into the side of a mountain. Below, an endless sea of clouds swirled in shades of silver and blue, restless and distant. Above, the jagged peaks loomed like the claws of a slumbering beast, dusted in snow and shrouded in mist.
Wind howled past, tugging at my clothes.
Wait. Clothes?
I looked down.
White robes. Long sleeves. A black outer coat embroidered with a golden emblem: a seven-pointed crown encircling a broken sword. A jade pendant hung from my waist, etched with unfamiliar characters.
I knew this style.
Cultivation robes.
I blinked once.
Then twice.
Then, because my brain refused to accept reality, I slapped myself.
"...Ow!" The sting was real.
A sudden, mechanical chime rang directly in my skull.
[Ding!]
A crisp, clear voice echoed in my mind, cool and emotionless.
[Welcome, Host, to the Sovereign Sect System.]
I froze.
Another line appeared in my mind's eye, like text on a translucent screen.
[Current Identity: Sect Leader of the…]
[...Processing…]
[...Error. Name not found. Sect currently has no official designation.]
The voice faltered.
[Note: This sect is classified as Trash Tier. Ranking: 9999 out of 9999 registered sects within the Eastern Desolate Region.]
Silence.
Cold wind.
Snow.
Then I whispered, "...Trash tier?"
I tried to stand.
My legs gave out, and I staggered like a drunk at a wedding. My body felt wrong—lighter, stronger, but also as if someone had just unplugged the battery and hastily rewired it.
"Okay," I muttered to myself, "either I'm dreaming, or this is one of those karma-fueled transmigration plots I've been writing for the last three years."
Memories did not rush in like in those novels.
Instead, they dripped.
Fragments. Flashes.
A sect gate half-buried in snow.
A crumbling great hall with broken pillars.
An empty training field with cracked stone tiles.
And a man—no, me—standing at the center, glaring at the sky and shouting, "Just you wait! One day, everyone will bow and shout: All hail the Sect Leader!"
The heavens, it seemed, had responded by laughing and uninstalling his will to live.
Those memories settled into me like worn shoes that almost fit. I exhaled slowly.
So. I had transmigrated into the body of a failed sect leader. A man full of big words and zero talent, whose sect was so trashy the System itself refused to acknowledge its name.
Lovely.
[Ding!]
[System Binding Complete.]
A surge of warmth rushed through my consciousness, clearing the lingering dizziness. I shivered as something invisible locked into my soul.
[Host: I]
[Age: 23]
[Cultivation: Qi Refining Realm, 3rd Stage. (Trash)]
[Title: Unrecognized Sect Leader (Temporary)]
[Sect Status: On the verge of annihilation.]
I raised an eyebrow. "Temporarily unrecognized? That's… encouraging. I guess."
The System ignored my sarcasm.
[Main Mission Initialized.]
[Main Mission: Transform your Trash Tier Sect into a Supreme Heavenly Sect.]
[Mission Requirements: Achieve Sect Ranking in the top 10 of the Eastern Desolate Region.]
[Failure Condition: Sect annihilation / Host death.]
[Reward for Success: ?????]
[Penalty for Failure: Eternal obliteration of soul.]
My lips twitched.
"Annihilation, obliteration… Is there a 'maybe just a slap on the wrist' option?"
No answer.
Of course.
I drew in a long breath of freezing air, letting the situation sink in. Back in my original world, I had spent years writing about protagonists who mocked the heavens, bullied arrogant young masters, and leisurely built heaven-defying sects.
Reality, I now realized, was different.
For one, reality was very, very cold.
I hugged my robes closer and looked around properly.
The stone platform I sat on was connected to a narrow path leading up the mountainside, its edges crumbling and lined with stubborn, frostbitten weeds. A half-rotten wooden railing ran along the outer side, more for psychological comfort than actual safety.
Beyond that path, vague silhouettes of buildings peeked through the swirling snow at a higher elevation. Roofs sagged. Beams leaned. What should have been a majestic mountain sect looked more like an abandoned village waiting for a landslide.
I sighed.
"So this is my empire."
[Ding!]
[New Optional Mission: Take your first step as a true Sect Leader.]
[Objective: Walk through the sect grounds and perform an initial inspection.]
[Reward: Sect Leader Starter Pack.]
[Failure: You remain a useless salted fish.]
That last line felt personal.
"Fine, System. I'll inspect."
I took a step forward.
My foot promptly slipped on a patch of ice.
"—You've got to be kidding—"
I flailed, arms windmilling. My body tilted dangerously close to the cliff's edge, the sea of clouds yawning hungrily below.
For an instant, I could almost see the image: Sect Leader of the World's Worst Sect Dies by Gravity, Chapter 1 complete.
I twisted, slammed my shoulder into the railing, and clung to it with enough strength to make the wood groan.
Snow crumbled off the edge and vanished into the void.
My heart thumped loud enough to drown out the wind.
I stayed there for a full ten seconds, hugging rotten wood like it was a long-lost lover.
"Okay," I said hoarsely. "Step one: don't die before the prologue ends."
When my legs finally stopped threatening mutiny, I carefully, carefully shuffled along the path. Each step crunched on thin ice and snow. I kept one hand on the railing, as if it could magically gain structural integrity through sheer fear.
As I climbed higher, the outline of the sect came into clearer view.
A warped gate, its once-grand arch now split with a jagged crack, stood crookedly between two stone pillars. The name plaque above it was empty—just a weathered slab where a sect name should be.
So the System wasn't joking. This place truly didn't even have a name anymore.
I walked under the silent archway.
A cold emptiness greeted me.
The main courtyard was larger than I expected—at least a hundred meters across. Cracked stone tiles formed a rough square, their patterns half-erased by time and neglect. Weed-like spiritual grass poked through the gaps, feebly glowing in pale green hues.
Around the courtyard, several buildings leaned at varying degrees of "about to collapse." The training hall. The disciples' quarters. A pill-refining room, if the faded cauldron symbol was any indication.
All silent.
All empty.
No disciples cultivating. No elders lecturing. No vigorous shouts or clashing swords.
Just the wind.
Just me.
I swallowed.
"This sect… has no one?"
[Ding!]
[Correction: This sect has…]
[Processing…]
[1 (one) registered living member.]
Me.
The System helpfully elaborated.
[Host: I]
[Position: Acting Sect Leader, Sect Master, Sect Elder, Head Disciple, Outer Disciple, Inner Disciple, Core Disciple, Cleaning Staff, and Cook.]
I stared at the invisible panel with a blank expression.
"...So I'm the entire sect."
[Affirmative.]
I considered screaming into the sky just for dramatic effect.
Instead, I walked to the center of the courtyard and turned slowly in a circle, taking it all in. The snow. The decaying buildings. The echo of footsteps that weren't there.
In a twisted way, it was funny.
Back in my world, I had dreamed of being a legendary sect leader, surrounded by loyal disciples, beautiful fairies, eccentric elders, and arrogant enemies lining up to get smacked.
Now, I had a sect.
A trash sect.
With a ranking so low it probably embarrassed the algorithm that calculated it.
And yet—
Beneath the decay, I felt something.
It was faint. Like an old melody half-remembered. A subtle hum in the air. A whisper of spiritual energy coiling between the cracks in the stone and the roots of the frostbitten grass. Weak, but stubborn.
This place wasn't dead.
Not completely.
I drew in a slow breath and straightened my back.
"System," I said quietly, "can you show me the Sect Status?"
[Ding!]
A translucent panel unfolded in my mind.
[Unnamed Sect – Trash Tier]
[Sect Leader: I (Acting)]
[Location: Eastern Desolate Region, Northern Snowspine Range]
[Ranking: 9999 / 9999]
[Members: 1]
– Sect Leader: I
[Facilities:]
– Main Hall: Ruined (40% integrity)
– Training Field: Damaged (35% integrity)
– Disciples' Quarters: Partially collapsed (20% integrity)
– Storage Pavilion: Sealed (???)
– Spirit Vein: Weak, unstable
[Reputation: None.]
[Enemies: None (No one cares enough).]
[Allies: None.]
[Special Notes: This sect is one minor mishap away from complete collapse.]
The urge to laugh and cry at the same time returned.
"Allies: none. Enemies: none. Not even enemies… that hurts more than it should."
I let my gaze wander toward a building on the far side, half-hidden behind a collapsed wall. The Storage Pavilion.
Sealed.
"System," I asked, "why is the Storage Pavilion sealed?"
[Ding!]
[Insufficient authority. Unlock condition: Establish legitimate sect status.]
"Legitimate sect status," I repeated. "So right now, we're… what? An illegal hilltop squatters' association?"
[Inaccurate. This sect has historical registration but has fallen below minimum criteria to be considered an active sect.]
"Minimum criteria?"
[At least three living members.]
I paused.
"That's it? Three?"
[Also, a functioning Main Hall and a recognized sect name.]
There it was. A checklist.
Three people.
A repaired hall.
A name.
A tiny spark of something lit in my chest.
Hope.
No, not hope.
Ambition.
I looked around again—not at what was broken, but at what could be.
The courtyard, once cleaned and repaired, could host hundreds of disciples training in unison, swords flashing beneath the sky.
The ruined hall, once restored, could resound with my arrogant speeches as I sat lazily on a throne, drinking tea while pretending to be wise.
This snow-covered mountain, once filled with life, could echo with a single chant:
All hail the Sect Leader.
I smiled slowly.
"System," I said, "about that Optional Mission reward—this Sect Leader Starter Pack. I've walked around. Inspected. Nearly died on my face. Does that count?"
[Ding!]
[Verification in progress…]
A brief pause.
[Optional Mission Completed: Take your first step as a true Sect Leader.]
[Reward: Sect Leader Starter Pack (Basic) x1.]
A small, glowing object materialized in front of me, hanging in the air like a floating treasure chest made of light. Intricate spiritual patterns twisted across its translucent surface.
My hand passed through it, but mental contact made the System react.
[Open Starter Pack?]
"Yes."
The chest shattered into particles of light.
[Ding!]
[You have received:]
– [Low-Grade Spirit Stone x100]
– [Sect Construction Token (Basic) x1]
– [Recruitment Token (Common) x3]
– [Sect Name Registration Scroll x1]
I blinked.
Spirit stones. Finally, some currency.
A construction token whose description unfolded as I focused on it.
[Sect Construction Token (Basic): Can repair a single small-scale structure within the sect to functional condition.]
I glanced at the ruined Main Hall.
"Not bad."
The Recruitment Tokens glowed faintly.
[Recruitment Token (Common): Can be used once to increase the chance of encountering a recruitable individual fated with the sect.]
In other words, gacha for disciples.
And the last item—Sect Name Registration Scroll.
[Sect Name Registration Scroll: Allows the host to officially register a sect name with Heaven's Record.]
I unrolled the phantom scroll in my mind.
It was blank.
Waiting.
I hesitated.
"So this is it," I murmured. "Once I write a name, it becomes real."
Names had weight.
Back in my world, I had named countless sects in my stories. Sky-Devouring Demon Sect. Eternal Heaven Palace. Nine Nether Dragon Pavilion.
I had always laughed at how over-the-top they sounded.
Now, standing on a freezing mountain with a trash-tier foundation and a System threatening eternal soul obliteration, I realized something:
Over-the-top sounded perfect.
Because if I was going to start at the bottom—the absolute bottom—then I needed a name so audacious that the heavens themselves would choke on it.
Snowflakes drifted down, dissolving into nothing on my outstretched hand.
I smiled, slow and sharp.
"System," I said, "I've decided on a name."
The invisible scroll pulsed expectantly.
"In this life," I whispered, "you'll see it written across the heavens."
The mental brush in my mind moved.
I wrote, stroke by stroke, each character heavy with defiance.
And as the last stroke fell, the mountain wind suddenly shifted, swirling around me like a living thing.
[Ding!]
[You have registered the sect name:]
[—]
The System's voice trembled.
[All-Hail Sovereign Sect.]
A distant rumble echoed through the mountains, as if some ancient thing had just woken up and was trying very hard not to laugh.
Snow burst upward in a gust.
The cracked plaque above the gate shuddered, then flared with light. Golden characters carved themselves into the wood, burning away the rot.
All-Hail Sovereign Sect.
The letters glowed, proud and shameless.
My heart pounded.
[Ding!]
[Sect Name Registration Complete.]
[Legitimate sect status: Partial.]
[Next Requirements: Minimum 3 members, Main Hall restoration.]
[New Main Mission Updated: Lead All-Hail Sovereign Sect from Trash Tier to Heavenly Supreme.]
I stood in the swirling snow, staring up at the glowing plaque, and I felt it for the first time—a sense of belonging to something more than myself.
I exhaled, breath turning to mist.
"Fine," I said to the roaring wind, to the invisible System, to the silent mountains and the indifferent sky.
"You want a sect?"
I straightened my back and let my voice carry across the empty courtyard.
"Then watch," I declared. "Starting today, this trash pile will become the most terrifying sect in existence."
The wind answered with a low, mocking howl.
[Ding!]
[New Side Mission: Acquire first disciple.]
[Time Limit: 30 days.]
[Failure Penalty: Sect reputation decreases. System will label Host as "Forever Alone Sect Leader".]
I stared at the floating text.
Silence.
Then I muttered, "System, sometimes I feel like you're not on my side."
The System did not respond.
The snow kept falling.
And somewhere, very far away, fate began to shift.