As the final members of the Beggars' Sect crossed through the towering gates, their awestruck gazes fell upon the city of legends that lay before them.
They had heard tales of sects, of grand places where the powerful gathered, but this was different.
Here was a place that looked and felt like the heart of an ancient, forgotten world.
Towering pavilions stretched across the landscape, bridges arched elegantly over wide streets, and stone stairways climbed high toward unknown heights.
The architecture was immense and intricate, bearing an artistry that could only be described as divine, as though each stone had been carved with purpose, each pillar standing testament to an ancient legacy.
And yet, though weathered by time, the structures held an undeniable beauty, as if the sect itself refused to surrender its grandeur.