Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2895: Clues To An Old Incomplete Technique

With the Abbotʼs permission, Lin Mu was granted access to the Scroll Vault—a place even the monks rarely entered anymore. The heavy ironwood doors creaked open slowly, revealing a vast chamber carved into the very rocks themselves. Dust blanketed most of the scroll shelves like a second skin, and the faint scent of old ink and yellowing parchment hung in the air like incense.

A monk guided him in, lighting the sun lamps along the ceiling before giving a respectful bow and retreating. ”This place hasnʼt been entered in decades,” he said before leaving. ”Most of us have not had the time to read, let alone explore.”

Lin Mu stood alone among thousands of scrolls, each one a voice of the past.

He began his search immediately.

The days blurred into each other, marked only by the flickering of the lamps and the tolling of the monks in the inner chamber. Lin Mu barely left the vault, stopping only to rest or eat. The gravity of the place was ever-present, like a quiet companion pressing down on his shoulders.

For an entire week, he scoured the archives. Scroll after scroll, book after book—he read of sacred chants, meditation methods, body-refinement techniques, and the monasteryʼs rites. But despite all the ink and paper, the truth about the Heart of Gravity remained elusive. It was as if even the monks didnʼt fully understand what they had built their monastery upon.

Still, he learned fragments.

The Great Burden Monastery had once been a branch sect of the far more ancient and powerful Immovable Vajra Temple, a bastion of Buddhist cultivation that stood firm even among the chaos of the immortal worlds of ancient times. Their practices were renowned for combining extreme mental discipline with equally extreme physical tempering.

The calamity that befell the Vimana Realm, however, shattered that legacy.

What exactly had happened was not recorded in detail. Some scrolls referred to it as ”The Shattering Dawn,” others as ”The Heaven-Cracking Sin.” Lin Mu could only infer that it had been apocalyptic. The records said little about the enemy or force that caused it—only that the Immovable Vajra Temple had tried to resist and failed.

A final emergency protocol had been activated: an immense teleportation array, flinging the surviving monks and disciples across the myriad realms.

The Great Burden Monasteryʼs current residents were merely one of those scattered fragments.

”We lost too many,” one record read in the hand of a former abbot. ”I do not know if the Grand Abbot survived. We do not know where our brothers and sisters landed. The Sutras are incomplete. Our purpose now is survival.”

As Lin Mu read those lines, a familiar sensation stirred in his chest—an echo from his own path. A sense of incompletion, of walking a road whose end had been lost to time.

It was during his final day in the vault that Lin Mu stumbled across an aged bamboo tube tucked in the back of a collapsed shelf. It was bound in golden silk and sealed with an iron bead that bore the sigil of a half-closed eye.

He opened it carefully.

The contents were fragmentary, part of a manual written in a mixed language of ancient Buddhist script and Dao Script runes. But Lin Muʼs extensive formation training, along with his cultivation insights, allowed him to parse it slowly.

And what he saw… left him breathless.

The scroll described an incomplete body cultivation art called the Golden Dominator Sutra—a counterpart to the Great Burden Sutra. The two were known as the Twin Pillars of the Immovable Vajra Temple.

”Where one endures the weight of all creation, the other walks as a golden sovereign above it,” the scroll said.

The Golden Dominator Sutra was a refinement art that involved transmuting the body into a True Gold Vessel, forging the bones, flesh, and even the marrow through a mysterious golden essence that required a catalyst of high Dao affinity.

”True Gold… is not of this world,” it read. ”Only with the Dominatorʼs Breath can the mortal body rise to challenge the heavens.”

And then Lin Mu saw it.

A side note, written hastily by an unknown monk:

”One of the young monks had begun to practice this before we fled. We only had fragments… he named it the True Gold Body Forging Art. I pray he survived.”

Lin Muʼs eyes widened.

He had discovered the technique back in the Xiaofan world, practicing it without knowing its true origin. It had been powerful, a mystery… and now he understood why.

It was a remnant of a shattered lineage. A broken heirloom of a fallen temple.

He closed the scroll slowly, his hands trembling slightly—not from fatigue, but from the weight of inheritance.

The technique he had walked for years was never his by design—but fate had brought it to him nonetheless.

And now… he was standing in the ruins of the temple it came from.

Outside the vault, the gravity still pressed down with silent vigilance. The monks meditated, sweat beading on their brows. The abbot waited with patience forged by centuries of discipline.

Lin Mu emerged from the vault, scroll in hand, and met the old manʼs gaze.

”I found something,” he said quietly.

The abbot raised a brow. ”Oh?”

Lin Mu held up the scroll. ”The Golden Dominator Sutra. Or rather… whatʼs left of it.”

Recognition flared in the old monkʼs eyes. ”So that survived…”

”Only just. But more importantly… Iʼve been practicing it, unknowingly. A fragment of it came to me years ago. Itʼs called the True Gold Body Forging Art.”

At this, the abbot inhaled slowly, his composure shaken for the first time.

”Then… it has returned to us,” he said, awe in his voice. ”And perhaps… so have you.”

Lin Mu tilted his head. ”What do you mean?”

The abbot stepped forward, placing a weathered hand on his shoulder.

”Perhaps the Sutra found its bearer through fate. Or perhaps… you were always meant to carry the weight of a legacy lost to time.”