The question reached Ren before any threat did.
It traveled ahead of him, carried by voices that tried to sound casual and failed.
"Who leads it?"
That was all anyone wanted to know.
Ren heard it whispered at checkpoints, murmured between traders, argued over by cultivators who pretended not to care. Even those who dismissed the idea of a "guild" couldn't stop circling the same question.
Authority.
He felt the echo respond differently now — not flaring, not retreating.
Bracing.
Ren walked with the small group at his back, stopping at a crossroads where four paths met. The place was busy enough to attract attention, quiet enough for conversations to spread.
They hadn't even settled before someone approached.
A cultivator in clean blue robes stepped forward, posture polite, aura controlled. Low–mid realm, disciplined, accustomed to being listened to.
"Ren," he said, bowing lightly."I've been sent to speak with you."
Ren inclined his head in return.
"About what?"
The man smiled professionally.
"About clarification."
Ren gestured to the open road.
"Ask."
The cultivator glanced briefly at the people nearby — merchants, travelers, a pair of guards who had lingered a little too long.
"People are saying you're forming a guild," the man said."A structure that operates independently of sect oversight."
Ren didn't deny it.
"They're asking who you answer to," the man continued.
Ren met his eyes calmly.
"No one."
The cultivator blinked.
"That's not an answer."
"It is," Ren replied."It's just not a comfortable one."
The echo pulsed — steady, firm.
The man hesitated.
"Then who answers to you?"
Ren shook his head.
"No one."
That drew murmurs from the onlookers.
The cultivator's polite smile strained.
"You see the problem."
Ren nodded.
"I see the fear."
The man exhaled slowly.
"Without authority, there's no accountability."
Ren's voice remained even.
"Without authority, there's no coercion either."
Silence fell.
The cultivator studied Ren as if seeing him clearly for the first time.
"You're asking the world to trust people," he said quietly.
Ren nodded once.
"Yes."
"That's not how cultivation works."
Ren smiled faintly.
"Then maybe cultivation forgot something."
The echo hummed — not approving, not opposing.
Considering.
The cultivator straightened.
"I'll report this conversation," he said."Some will see you as naïve. Others as dangerous."
Ren shrugged lightly.
"Both are fine."
The man paused.
"One last question," he said."If someone within this… guild… harms others?"
Ren's gaze hardened — just slightly.
"Then the people around them respond," he said."Not because I command it. But because harm breaks the habit we're building."
The cultivator frowned.
"And if they don't?"
Ren didn't hesitate.
"Then the structure fails," he said simply."And deserves to."
The honesty unsettled the man more than any threat would have.
He bowed again and stepped away.
The courier beside Ren exhaled shakily.
"They're going to hate that answer."
Ren nodded.
"They already do."
As they resumed walking, Ren felt it clearly now.
The world wasn't angry yet.
It was confused.
And confusion, when it met fear, always turned into force.
The echo pulsed once — strong, centered.
Not warning him.
Preparing him.
Because the next questions would not be asked politely.
And the world had just learned something dangerous:
Ren wasn't challenging authority.
He was questioning its necessity.